Semua Bab Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord.: Bab 61 - Bab 67

Delia’s POVThe next morning, Leandro didn’t summon me for breakfast.That alone told me everything.Still, I went anyway dressed neatly for work, spine straight, chin lifted, pretending the silence didn’t claw at my insides. The dining hall was unusually quiet, the long table almost echoing with the absence of conversation. Leandro sat at the head as always, posture perfect, expression unreadable.“Good morning,” I said softly.He didn’t respond.I waited a bit too long, then sat down in the chair across from him. The chair’s wood scraped the marble, and the sound seemed very loud in the quiet room. The silence felt sharp and uncomfortable. I stared at my plate, but the food didn’t taste like anything. My fork hovered over it, then set down again without taking a bite..A maid approached my side of the table.“Would you like some juice?” she asked in a low, respectful tone.“Yes,” I said quietly. “Thank you.”She poured orange juice into my glass, the steady stream the only sound i

Leandro’s POVI didn’t look back after I closed Delia’s office door.If I had, I would’ve lost control.That single second of hesitation the way her voice cracked when she asked about the words I used was already more than I could afford. Feelings were leveraged. And leverage got people killed.I adjusted my cufflinks as I walked down the corridor, face set back into stone. The guards fell into step behind me without a word. They’d seen that look before.It meant business.Outside, the engine of my car was already running. Marco opened the door, eyes flicking to my face.“Where to, boss?”“The Belvedere,” I said. “Private room.”Marco nodded once. No questions.As the car pulled away from the building, I leaned back against the leather seat and closed my eyes briefly.Camilla’s voice echoed faintly in my head.You think she’ll stay? He’ll break you just like he did me.I pushed the thought aside.I had more pressing matters.The politician had been persistent. Too persistent. Men like

Leandro’s POV The engine idled while the café sat across the street, unchanged and waiting. Doughboy Café. Same sign. Same fogged windows. Same place where bad ideas once felt like destiny. Matteo didn’t get out of the car right away. Neither did I. He glanced at the café, then back at me. “You sure this isn’t a setup, Boss?” I adjusted my cufflinks, calm. “Everything’s a setup.” “She could’ve lured you here,” he said. “Public place. Crowds. Easy to hide a gun. Or a knife. Or someone waiting outside.” “If she wanted me dead,” I said, “she’d have tried harder.” Matteo frowned. “Still Boss, she knows your habits. Know your face. Know your past.” “That’s why she’s sitting in there alone,” I replied. “She thinks history protects her.” Matteo lowered his voice. “And if it’s a trap, Boss?” I finally looked at him. “Then we clear the board.” He straightened. “How many men do you want, Boss?” “Double,” I said. “Inside and out. Sweep the alley, the rooftops, the back rooms. Any