All Chapters of Enemies At The Altar : Chapter 91 - Chapter 97

The music had softened. The crowd had relaxed. Yet the energy in the room remained—shifted but undiminished.Mia stood near one of the long tables, a glass in hand, quietly observing the gathering. This time, the weight of it didn’t press down on her as it once had. She had survived far worse than curious stares. And tonight, she wasn’t alone.Mark had been pulled away minutes earlier by one of the older men—something about business, territory, numbers she didn’t care to follow. He had hesitated before leaving her side. She noticed.“I’ll be fine,” she told him.His eyes searched her face as if to confirm.“I won’t be far.”“I know.”Now, she stood alone. Calm. Composed. Almost enjoying the moment.“Careful,” a smooth voice said behind her. “If you keep looking that serious, people might think you’re planning something dangerous.”Mia turned to find an unfamiliar man—tall, well-dressed, exuding a confidence bordering on arrogance. The kind of man who thought charm could open every doo

Morning arrived slower than usual.The mansion was quiet, but not peaceful. There was movement in the halls, footsteps crossing polished floors, doors opening and closing, low voices giving instructions.Something was changing.Mia noticed it the moment she stepped downstairs.Two suitcases stood near the entrance.A driver waited outside.One of the house staff carried a garment bag past the hall.She stopped halfway down the staircase.“Who’s leaving?”Luca looked up from where he stood near the door.“Isabella.”Mia blinked once.“Today?”He nodded.“Orders were arranged last night.”“By who?”Luca’s mouth twitched slightly.“By herself.”That surprised her more than anything.Mia glanced toward the sitting room, where voices murmured softly. She recognized one immediately.Isabella.Still calm. Still elegant. Still impossible to read.Mia continued down the stairs.She didn’t know what she expected to feel.Relief, maybe.Satisfaction.Instead, what she felt was something quieter.

The meeting room was already full when Mark arrived. No introductions. No small talk. Just tension. Men stood around the long table, papers spread out, phones lit with fragmented reports, voices overlapping in controlled urgency. Mia stayed near the back. Close enough to hear everything. Far enough not to be pulled into it. Mark took his place at the head of the table without asking for it. No one questioned it. That was the part that still unsettled her sometimes—how easily people obeyed him when things got serious. Luca stepped forward first. “We’ve confirmed it,” he said. “This isn’t Santoro.” A murmur moved through the room. Mia frowned slightly. Mark didn’t react. “Explain.” Luca tapped the map on the table. Three locations were marked in red. “Dock fire. False shipment alerts. And the south-side meeting trap.” Mark’s eyes moved across them. Slow. Precise. “These aren’t random,” Luca continued. “They’re coordinated. But not aggressive. They’re… testing respo

The mansion felt heavier after the message.Not louder.Not more active.Just… heavier.As if the walls themselves sensed something had shifted outside.Mark had been gone since morning.Luca too.Mia stayed inside, just as she was told. But “staying inside” in this house still meant moving through rooms filled with guarded silence and unanswered phones.By midday, she found herself near the west corridor.Close enough to the study.Close enough to hear voices.She hadn’t meant to stop.But she did.Don Romano’s voice came first—low, steady, unmistakable.“You’re reacting too fast.”Mark answered immediately.“I’m reacting appropriately.”A pause.Then the Don again.“That depends on what you think this is.”Mia froze.She shouldn’t have been listening.But her feet didn’t move.Mark’s voice came again—colder this time.“I think it’s an intrusion.”“I think it’s a test,” Don Romano corrected.Silence.Then footsteps—slow, deliberate.The kind of pacing that meant calculation, not agit