Todos los capítulos de The Butcher - A Mafia romance : Capítulo 161 - Capítulo 170

“Why—”“I have to finish this.”“But you mean now?”“It has to be now. Ivan has retreated, the gangs have loosened their loyalty, it’s chaos. If I wait, he might flee or hit me again.” And his death was the only thing that would satisfy my blood lust.“But you need Luca.”“He’s the only person I trust right now. He’ll die for you.”Her eyes started to water. “I just came back to you. I don’t want to go. I don’t want you to go⁠—”“Sweetheart.” I cupped her face, and she immediately grabbed on to my wrists. “I know how brave you are. I know how strong you are. I need you to be those things for a little longer. Will you please do this for me?”She tilted her head down, her eyes glistening and wet. She sniffled, sucking back the tears before they could fall. “Yes.”I didn’t want to leave her again, but I wouldn’t rest or eat or sleep until he was fucking dead. He would pay for what he’d done to my girl. For what he’d done to my city. “Attagirl.”Luca took off with Fleur. I told him not to

“Jesus.” He gave a sigh. “Just got the job, man. Haven’t thought that far ahead.”“Good luck.”“Thanks.” Power had been exchanged and the conversation had finished. But he stayed like he had more to say and didn’t know how to say it. “We’re still gonna go to Holybelly together on Sundays, right?”I smirked. “Of course.”“And we’re still gonna drink?”“Absolutely.”“Good,” he said. “Just wanted to make sure.”20FLEURBastien wasn’t himself, even when a week had come and gone.He didn’t look at me the same, like the bruises were too painful to bear. Only when they started to fade did he behave more like himself. He was home with me every day, slept through the night beside me, worked out in the morning before he had breakfast with me. We didn’t talk about what had happened. It seemed like he wasn’t ready for that.We lay together in bed, naked under the sheets, his skin fiery to the touch because he was still warm after doing all the work just moments before. But he was never hot enoug

He was quiet for a long time, so long it seemed like he might ignore the inquiry altogether. “I can do that.”“Yeah?” I asked, unable to restrain my enthusiasm.He nodded. “Sure.”21BASTIENIt was the night before the wedding.Fleur wasn’t going to be staying elsewhere for the night, not when I didn’t believe in that traditional bullshit. I would fuck her before bed like usual. In the morning, she would leave and get ready in another part of the house, and then we would meet at the gardens to marry.I spent my last night as a bachelor at my brother’s house, smoking with him in the drawing room, the two of us reminiscing with some good memories but mostly bad ones.He sat with the cigar burning between his fingertips, in the dim light from the chandelier that hung overhead. “It doesn’t matter now, but where did you dump his body?”I could tell that had been on his mind awhile. He just didn’t want to ask.“Wrapped it in plastic and threw it in the dumpster outside my building.” I took

He took my hand, and we faced each other before the priest, ready to declare our undying love for each other before God and the five hundred people gathered to bear witness to our union.He continued to look at me the same way, the most handsome man I’d ever seen, eyes bluer than the goddamn sky. He’d shaved, so his jawline was smooth, and the shadow along his mouth was even more distinct.The priest continued, and I mouthed, “You’re so hot.”He smirked, and the twinkle that moved into his eyes was pure joy.We didn’t exchange rings because I already had mine, and he’d inked his days before to make sure it was healed for the big day. So we took each other, there under the Paris sky with the Eiffel Tower in view, and promised to love each other forever.The reception at the Four Seasons was a big blowout, everyone drinking and partying, having the best time of their lives. I’d never seen Bastien dance, but he moved on the dance floor like it was yet another thing he was good at.The pa

1AXELSIX MONTHS LATERI hadn’t seen my parents in six months.They’d blocked my number, so I couldn’t text or call, and whenever I showed up to their residence, the guards barred my entry. Trust meetings took place in their absence, their lawyers acting as their puppets. The message was quite clear—I would never speak to them again.But I knew they would be at the art auction this year, a social event they’d attended every year for the last thirty years, and while it wasn’t the best place to provoke them, I needed a chance to say my piece.I didn’t inform anyone that I was attending, because if I did, they were certain not to show up. And sneaking into a hoity-toity party like that was easy. Security only watched the main entrance, but no one hit the main entrance when they snuck into a party anyway.I walked down the alley and used the back entrance, waiting for one of the workers to step out and carry the trash to the dumpster against the adjacent building. He didn’t notice me, so