Accueil / Mafia / The Mafia Virgin Captive / Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 21 - Chapitre 30

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21

*CHRISTOPHER P.O.V* The docks were cold, and the smell of salt and rotten fish was everywhere. I stood near the water, watching my men put out the last of the fire in the warehouse. My jaw was tight. My hands were balled into fists. "Sir, the damage isn't too bad," Sean said, walking up to me. He was wiping soot from his forehead. "They only burned the empty crates. It was a distraction." "I know it was a distraction, Sean," I growled. My voice sounded like gravel. I looked at my watch. I had been away from the mansion for four hours. Four hours too long. Every minute I spent here, my skin felt like it was crawling. Something was wrong. I could feel it in my gut. It was the same feeling I got before a hit—a cold, sharp warning in my blood."The Cruz family doesn't play games like this," I muttered. "They don't burn empty wood just to make me travel across the city. They want me away from the house.""You think they went for the girl?" Sean asked."I think someone is making a move,

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ROSALINA P.O.VThe sun was fully up now. The sky was a soft blue, but I didn't feel happy. I felt like I was made of glass, and if anyone touched me, I would break into a thousand pieces. We were back at the mansion. Christopher had carried me inside and straight to his room.He didn't lock the door this time. He just sat me down on the edge of the bed and went to the bathroom to get a warm cloth."Hold still," he said softly.He came back and sat on his knees between my legs. He began to wash the dirt and blood from my face. His hands were so big, but he was being so careful. He acted like I was the most expensive thing in the world."Does it hurt?" he asked. He was looking at the bruise on my cheek. His eyes were dark with a mix of sadness and anger."A little," I whispered. "Christopher... what happened to Marcello?"Christopher’s hand stopped for a second. He didn't look at me. He just kept cleaning my skin. "He is gone, Rosalina. He betrayed the family. In my world, that is the o

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CHRISTOPHER P.O.VThe sun was beginning to set over the city, painting the sky in deep shades of purple and orange. I stood on the balcony of my study, the small black ledger heavy in my hand. Inside those pages was enough fire to burn the Cruz empire to the ground. My father had wanted this. He had died for this. But as I looked at the book, I didn't feel the victory I expected.I only felt the need to check on Rosalina.I walked back inside and saw Sean standing by the door. He looked tired. His suit was wrinkled, and there was a bandage on his arm from the fight on the bridge."The lawyers are in the conference room, Sir," Sean said. "They are ready to start making the copies. We have digital backups in three different locations.""Good," I said. I handed him the book. "Once the authorities get these names, I want a full guard around the house. The Cruz family is like a wounded animal now. They will be most dangerous right before they die.""I understand," Sean replied. He paused f

24

CHRISTOPHER P.O.VI didn't sleep. I couldn't.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Victor Cruz. I saw him reaching out for Rosalina. I saw the bridge. I saw the blood. I stayed in bed next to her, listening to her breathe. She was finally sleeping, but her hands were still clutching my shirt like she was afraid I would disappear into the night.The room was dark, but the world outside was loud. My phone kept vibrating on the nightstand. Message after message. Reports from Sean. News alerts. The Romano name was everywhere. The Cruz name was being dragged through the dirt.At 4:00 AM, I carefully moved her arm and got out of bed. I tucked the blanket around her and kissed her forehead. She stirred but didn't wake up.I walked to my study. Sean was waiting there. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week."The police found his car," Sean said immediately. "It was abandoned near the old train tracks. He’s running on foot, or he has a backup car we don't know about.""He’s desperate," I said,

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CHRISTOPHER P.O.VI spent the afternoon in the basement archives. This was where the old Romano secrets were kept. Boxes of papers. Ledgers from the 90s. Photos of men who were now in the ground.Sean helped me. We went through the files from 2016."Here," Sean said, pulling out a dusty blue folder. "The report from the bridge."I opened it. My heart was thumping. I saw the police report. I saw the photos of the car being pulled out of the water. And then, I saw a handwritten note. It was my father's writing.“The target didn't stop. We had to nudge him. The book is in the river. Search begins tomorrow.”Nudge him.I felt sick. My father had ordered his driver to hit the car. He didn't want them to go off the bridge, but he didn't care if they did. To him, the book was more important than a woman and a child."Sir?" Sean asked. He saw my face."He did it," I whispered. "My father killed her mother.""What are you going to do?"I looked at the paper. I could burn it. I could tell Rosal

26

CHRISTOPHER P.O.V The sun was just beginning to climb over the rolling hills of Tuscany. From the window of the private jet, the world looked like a painting. It was peaceful—a word I didn't get to use very often. I turned my head to look at Rosalina. She was fast asleep in the large leather seat across from me. She looked exhausted. Her face was pale, and there were faint shadows under her eyes. Every time the plane hit a small pocket of air, her eyelids would flicker, but she didn't wake up. She was wearing one of my spare sweaters. It was way too big for her, making her look even smaller and more fragile than she already was. I felt a strange tightness in my chest. For the first time in my life, I wasn't thinking about business, or territory, or the men I had to kill. I was thinking about her. "Sir?" Sean’s voice was low. He was standing in the aisle, holding a tablet. "Keep it down," I whispered, glancing at Rosalina. "What is it?" "The local police in America have proc

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A woman came running out of the house. She looked to be in her fifties. She had dark hair pulled back in a bun and big gold earrings. She was wearing a simple black dress.Christopher stepped forward, and she grabbed his face, kissing both of his cheeks. She talked so fast I couldn't understand a single word. Christopher actually smiled—a small, real smile."Sofia, stop," he said in English. "We have a guest."The woman, Sofia, turned her eyes toward me. She didn't look mean, but she looked very curious. She walked over to me, her shoes clicking on the stone."So," she said, crossing her arms. "This is the girl from the café."I felt my face get hot. "Hello. I'm Rosalina."Sofia looked me up and down. She looked at my messy hair and the oversized sweater I was wearing. "You look like you have been through a storm, child.""She has," Christopher said, walking over to stand next to me. He didn't touch me, but he stood close enough that I could feel the heat from his body. "She needs a r

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CHRISTOPHER P.O.VI didn't sleep much that night. The air in Tuscany was quiet—too quiet for a man like me. I was used to the sound of sirens, the hum of the city, and the constant feeling that someone was watching from the shadows. Here, the only sound was the wind moving through the olive trees outside.I spent most of the night in my study, looking at maps and talking to my contacts in Rome. The council was restless. They didn't like that I had taken Rosalina away. They didn't like that I was acting like a man in love instead of a man in control.But as the sun began to peek over the hills, turning the sky a soft, dusty pink, I stopped thinking about the council. I thought about the girl sleeping in the blue room down the hall.She had been through so much. The kidnapping, the warehouse fire, the revelation about my father... and yet, she was still here. She hadn't run away. She hadn't screamed at me to let her go. She was a mystery I couldn't solve, and for the first time in my li

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ROSALINA P.O.VThe village looked like something out of a dream. The streets were made of old, smooth stones, and the buildings were covered in vines that turned gold in the afternoon sun. Sofia walked beside me, her arm linked with mine. She knew everyone. Every few steps, she would stop to shout a greeting in Italian to a shopkeeper or an old woman sitting on a porch.Behind us, at a distance that made me feel both safe and watched, were two of Christopher’s men. They tried to blend in, wearing casual shirts and sunglasses, but they were too straight, too alert. They didn't look at the cheese or the wine; they only looked at the crowds."Don't mind them," Sofia said, noticing me looking back. "They are like shadows. If you ignore them, they disappear.""It’s hard to ignore them when you know they have guns under their shirts," I whispered.Sofia laughed and pulled me into a small shop that smelled strongly of sheep's milk and herbs. "This is where we get the Pecorino. It is the best

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*Christopher pov*Yes, Sir," Sean said, his face a mask. He had been with me long enough to know that when I looked like this, there was no point in arguing. "What do you want me to do?""Double the guards tonight. I want the perimeter of the Villa to be a wall of fire. No one gets in. Not even a cat. And Sean... don't tell Rosalina. Let her have this one evening of peace.""Understood."Sean left the room, and I was alone again. I walked over to the small cabinet in the corner and poured myself a glass of whiskey. I drank it in one go, feeling it burn a trail down my throat.I walked out of the study and down the hall toward the blue room. I stood outside the door for a long time, just like I had this morning. I could hear music coming from inside—soft, Italian radio. She was home.I knocked."Come in," her voice called out.I opened the door. She was sitting on the balcony, the orange light of the sunset hitting her face. She was wearing the white dress from earlier, and her hair wa

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