All Chapters of Trapped in the Mafia’s hell: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

GabriellaI leaned against the pillar listening to the gentle notes of the remembrance music. I was bored to death that I couldn’t resist the aroma of the fresh-baked pastries laid out for the mourners.My fingers reached out for one of the muffins from the tray next to me, I took a bite, and the sweet crumbs stuck to my teeth. I was less interested in the muffins, I didn’t even want to be here in this damned house mourning Marcello’s late parents. They were in fact none of my business. I’d never even met them and from the looks of things, they didn’t even train their son well, if not he wouldn’t have treated me the way he did. I suppose I’m nothing to him, just his trophy - the wife he could show off to prove he was a family man, but deep down, he was empty and heartless. But no one here seemed to care; everyone was too engrossed in their own conversations. I’m sure their heart was as black as the outfits they were wearing. Suddenly a bald man in a neatly ironed suit walked up

StefanThe steam from the hot tub sizzled around my skin as if I were standing over a boiling ring.It was barely ten in the morning yet the sun was out. On my left, Valentina leaned into me, her blonde hair damp and clinging to her tanned shoulders, the red strings of her bikini barely holding on. On my right, Sofia traced slow circles on my arm with a manicured nail, her blue eyes half-closed in contentment. I took a long pull from the big fat cigar between my fingers, letting the smoke roll out slow and thick.“This,” I said, voice loud enough to carry over the jets, “this is life.”Valentina giggled and pressed closer, her lips brushing my ear. “You always say that, Don Stefan.”“Because it’s always true when I’m here with you two.” I grinned, slapping the water so it splashed their chests. They laughed in unison, the sound sweet and careless to my ears.For the first time in a long time I felt like a king; hell, I was a king. The Lombardi name still meant something in this city

Marcello My stepfather used to love this place, the study room was like his man cave, his favourite place to be.Of course, he never allowed anyone in asides my mother and his other concubines. He often locked himself up here and had his dinner there all by himself. He hated eating with the rest of the family at the dining table. Probably because he couldn’t bear the sight of me.But sitting here made me understand why this place was dear to him. It was peaceful, the only place in this mansion where I could be productive.A cigarette burned between my fingers, the tip glowing orange, and I wondered if this would make me even calmer, because one needed to be in a stable state of mind to figure out the truth. I needed answers. I needed someone to bleed for what happened to my sister.Suddenly, the wooden door creaked open and Luca walked in, from his countenance I could tell he was here to deliver bad news, one I didn’t want to hear. He stopped a few feet from the desk, hands cla

GabriellaAdrianna had just left my room a few hours ago and now I was pacing the four walls.We had just finished playing this game called two truths and a lie and it was fun while it lasted. But soon I was back to the void, the boredom, I’m afraid it was something I just couldn't escape, so far I was still under Marcello’s roof.I hated the silence, the stillness, it forced me to face reality, it made me think about my father, my home, and the life that had been ripped from me.And I kept asking myself, how long can I keep playing the calm and cool unbothered wife?How long till I lose it?I stopped at the door and rested my palm on the cool brass knob. I expected it to be locked, the way it usually was after lights-out. But it twisted easily. Open.A smile escaped my lips as I pushed the door open and immediately I was welcomed by the empty and dark hallways. Not even the guards were present to stop me from walking further into the dark.Yet I tiptoed, I wasn’t about to bring a

Gabriella I sank onto the edge of my bed, the silk robe slipping from my shoulders as I replayed that moment on the staircase over and over. Marcello’s hand on my waist. The heat of his palm through the thin fabric. The way his dark eyes had locked onto mine, pulling me in until the world narrowed to just the space between us. Had we almost kissed? It felt like it—like the air itself had been holding its breath, waiting for one of us to close the distance.And then there was the other thing. Stefan Lombardi. Burned alive in his own house. Marcello’s single, cold word—“Good”—still echoed in my ears. I should have been horrified. I should have felt something sharper than this dull acceptance. But he’d done the same to my father, hadn’t he? Ordered the fire that took everything from me. I waited for the rage to rise, for the hatred to burn hotter, but it didn’t come. Instead there was only this confusing tangle of fear and… something else. Something that made my skin feel too tight.I d