All Chapters of Mafia's Heir: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The first thing Elena noticed when she opened her eyes was the faint smell of smoke sharp and metallic, lingering like the ghosts of last night’s chaos.The cellar was quiet now. The storm had passed, but its wreckage still hung in the air.Adrien sat a few feet away, his head bowed, elbows resting on his knees. His shirt was torn, blood dried along his jaw, and there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.He didn’t look like the man who had held her hours ago. He looked like the man the world feared cold, ruthless, carved from fire and shadow.“Adrien,” she whispered softly.He didn’t move at first. Then, slowly, he turned toward her. “You should rest.”She shook her head. “I couldn’t even if I tried.”His eyes met hers stormy, unreadable. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”“Safe?” she echoed bitterly. “In your house? In your world? There’s nothing safe about any of this, Adrien.”He exhaled sharply, standing up. “You think I don’t know that?”“Then why won

The safehouse was buried in silence. Morning came slow, bleeding light through the cracks in the wooden shutters, and for the first time in days, Elena woke to the sound of birds instead of gunfire. She sat up, her body sore from the couch but her mind already alert. The events of the night before played behind her eyes like a broken film reel— the attack, Adrien’s wound, the way he’d looked at her after. She touched her lips unconsciously. It had felt real. Too real. In the next room, she heard faint movement — boots against the floor, the sound of something metallic clicking. Adrien. When she walked in, he was standing by the window, reloading his gun. The wound on his shoulder had been roughly bandaged, but the blood had seeped through the fabric again. “You’re bleeding,” she said softly. He didn’t turn around. “It’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing,” she replied, stepping closer. “You’re hurt, Adrien.” He finally glanced over, his eyes tired but still sharp. “You shouldn’t be

The rain hadn’t stopped.It fell in thin, cold sheets against the safehouse windows, tracing trembling lines of silver down the glass. The storm had carried through the night — a relentless drumbeat, echoing the unease sitting deep in Adrien’s chest.He stood by the window, shirt sleeves rolled up, cigarette burning to its end between his fingers. The smoke curled around him like a ghost — familiar, suffocating.Behind him, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the heater. Luciano had left hours ago to coordinate with the other families that still stood by Adrien’s name. The rest of the house was silent. Everyone was preparing — for battle, for betrayal, for whatever came next.Everyone but Elena.She was sitting on the couch, wrapped in one of Adrien’s jackets, a mug of untouched tea cooling beside her. Her hair was messy, her eyes red from lack of sleep, but she looked steady — too steady, like someone who’d already made peace with what was coming.Adrien turned at last. Hi

The night bled into dawn. Smoke curled lazily into the gray morning sky, the air heavy with the scent of burning wood and twisted steel.Adrien’s safehouse sat miles away from the blast site — an isolated glass-and-stone fortress perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Waves crashed below like a heartbeat, constant and unforgiving.Elena stirred on the couch, the soft creak of leather echoing faintly through the room. Her head throbbed, her body sore from the explosion. When she opened her eyes, sunlight filtered in through the tall windows, casting gold across Adrien’s broad back.He stood near the window, shirtless, his skin marked by fresh bruises and scars — old and new, each one telling a story of violence and survival. He was silent, his silhouette framed by the sea.For a long time, she just watched him. The rise and fall of his shoulders. The quiet tension in his stance. The man she once thought incapable of feeling now looked… broken.“Adrien,” she whispered, her voice roug

The night was heavy with silence, too calm to be trusted. The D’Angelo mansion sat cloaked in darkness, the faint glimmer of security lights bouncing off the wet marble driveway. Elena leaned against the railing of the balcony, the cold metal biting into her palms as she stared into the emptiness. The city below looked peaceful—but peace, in Adrien’s world, was only ever the pause before chaos.Inside, Adrien’s men moved quietly, their footsteps disciplined, their voices clipped. The air carried tension like static, thick enough to choke on.Adrien had been on the phone for nearly an hour. His tone was sharp, cold, the kind of voice that could make even the bravest man rethink his choices. Elena could only hear fragments of his words through the open doors. Shipment intercepted… betrayal inside… clean it up.She shivered, not from the night air, but from the weight of what those words meant.Ever since she’d signed that marriage contract, her world had been rewritten in blood and shad