Semua Bab Fake Dating The Vicious Mafia Lord.: Bab 81 - Bab 90

The Weight of the GownLeandro“Leandro…?”He was standing in the doorway. He had ditched his suit jacket, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He looked tired, but his eyes... they weren't cold anymore. They were dark, filled with something that made my blood turn to fire.“What are you doing here?” I stammered, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird. “I’m… I’m naked, Leandro!”I sank lower into the lavender-scented bubbles, my pulse racing. He didn't move. He just watched me, his gaze tracing the line of my shoulders.“I came to see you,” he said. His voice was a low, rough purr. It didn't sound like Don. It sounded like a man.“You shouldn't be here,” I whispered, though I didn't tell him to leave.“I know,” he said, taking a step into the room. The candlelight threw long shadows across his face. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Down there on the deck... I was an asshole. I was cold. I was trying to be the man I’m supposed to be.”He stepped closer. T

Rules Were Meant to Be BrokenLeandroI stood outside Delia’s bedroom door for a full minute, listening to the silence. My knuckles were still slightly bruised from the morning’s "activities," and the smell of the sea and blood still seemed to cling to my skin despite the scalding shower I’d just taken.Two guards stood like statues on either side of the heavy oak doors. They straightened the moment they saw me."Don Leandro," they muttered in unison."Stay sharp," I said. "Nobody goes in. Not even if the house is on fire, unless it’s me."I pushed the doors open without knocking.Delia was standing by the large balcony window, still wearing a robe. Her hair was a wild mess of waves, and she looked like a trapped bird staring at the sky. When she heard me, she spun around, her eyes flashing with a fire that hadn't been there at dinner."What is this, Leandro?" she demanded, pointing a trembling finger toward the door. "I try to go to the kitchen for coffee and I’m blocked by two mo

The Price of the CrownDelia’s POVThe world was a blur of heat and gold, then a sharp, demanding cell‑phone ring cut through the air. It sounded like a gunshot in a symphony. Leandro froze, his body stiff against mine, and I felt his heart pounding. The sudden tension told me the Don had been pulled back into the room.The phone on the nightstand vibrated again, buzzing against the wood like a persistent hornet. Leandro didn't even look at it. His eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and swirling with a mix of frustration and raw desire.“Ignore it,” he growled, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against my skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive curve of my neck, trying to reclaim the moment. “It’s nothing.”But then it rang again. And again. Whoever was on the other end wasn't taking "not available" for an answer.“Leandro,” I breathed, my hands resting on his shoulders. I wanted him god, I wanted him so badly I felt like I was vibrating but the persistent ringing felt

The Longest Night.Delia“Don Leandro. I’m sorry to interrupt, but the captains are downstairs. They’re calling for blood. Antonio’s men have taken over two of the docks. They think you’re dead.”Leandro’s entire aura changed in a heartbeat. The vulnerable man vanished, and the lethal Don took his place. He pushed himself up, his face contorting in a mask of agony as the wound on his chest pulled.“Get me a suit,” Leandro commanded, his voice gaining strength. “And get me a gun.”“Leandro, no!” I cried, reaching for his good shoulder. “You’ll bleed out before you reach the stairs!”“They think I’m dead, Delia,” he said, his eyes now as hard as flint. “If I don't show them I’m alive, this house falls by morning. My brother doesn't just want my companies anymore. He wants my head on a stake.”He turned to Matteo. “Assemble the men. We’re going to the docks. I want Antonio brought to me alive. I want him to see who owns this city before I send him to join our father.”“Leandro, please

The Devil’s ComfortLeandroComing back to her was the only thing keeping my legs moving. Every step I took toward the mansion entrance felt like a hot iron was being pressed into my shoulder. The pain was a living thing, a snarling beast clawing at my chest, but it was nothing compared to the cold fury in my gut.But the moment she was in my arms in the foyer, the moment her scent filled my lungs all those pains went away. It was a temporary anesthesia, a trick of the mind that only she could perform.Now, hours later, the house was silent. The doctors had finished their stitching and left me with a list of "do nots" that I had already ignored. I was in my room, the moon casting long, jagged shadows across the mahogany floor. Delia was there with me, her eyes tracking my every move with a mix of exhaustion and a strange, flickering intensity.I grunted, pushing myself up from the bed to help myself to a bottle of whiskey on the sideboard. My shoulder screamed in protest, but I igno