Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Queen's War (Book one of The Mafia Throne): Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

They turned to see Clara standing by the door, a knowing smirk on her face."Fuck." Arabelle cursed, pulling away from Dante so fast she nearly stumbled."Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Clara's smile was anything but apologetic. "I'll leave you two to continue.""Why are you here, Clara?" Dante asked, his voice still rough from the kiss."Brother, please, continue with what you were doing." She grinned wickedly."That was nothing." Arabelle said quickly, walking past Dante without looking at him."We aren't done, Arabelle."She paused at the doorway, her back to him. "That shouldn't have happened in the first place, Dante. You and I both know that."Before he could respond, she left the library.Clara raised an eyebrow at her brother, then hurried after Arabelle, catching up with her in the kitchen."So... why the awkward moment? Was that the first time you two—""Can we not talk about it, please?" Arabelle interrupted, feeling heat rush to her cheeks.*What brought on that kiss?

Arabelle blinked against the brightness streaming through unfamiliar windows. Her head throbbed dully, and her mouth felt heavy. She stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together fragments of memory.The casino. The fight. Drinking water. Then... heat. Overwhelming, unbearable heat. And then—Her breath caught.Dante.She remembered his voice, his hands, the cool water, him holding her. She looked down and realized she was wearing a man's shirt, his shirt, and nothing else underneath.Oh god. He had changed.Her eyes darted around the room. This wasn't her bedroom. It was larger, more masculine. Dark wood furniture, minimal decoration. Dante's room."You're awake."She jumped, turning to find Dante seated on a sofa in the corner, a magazine in his hands though his eyes were now fixed on her. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, hair slightly disheveled, still wearing yesterday's clothes, now wrinkled.He'd stayed with her. All night."I—" Her voice came out as a croak.

"Give me one tangible reason you're leaving." Nora stood in front of Lucia with her arms folded across her chest. "The first plan didn't work, so we plan another one. Together. But you running away? That's not the Lucia I know.""Plan?" Lucia let out a bitter laugh. "You want me to make another plan with you?" She shook her head, pacing the small apartment. "We really underestimated Dante. I actually thought we could get Arabelle away from him, that she'd stay with me once she knew the 'truth' about him.""The fault isn't yours. It's Arabelle who was too dumb to believe your story and then go crawling back to him—""Don't you dare call her dumb." Lucia whipped around, her glare so sharp that Nora actually took a step back. "Don't ever call her that."Nora raised her hands defensively. "Okay, okay. Scary. I'm sorry." She softened her tone. "But seriously, that doesn't mean you should run away. If she doesn't love you the way you love her, that's her loss. You need to move on. I'm sure

The rest of the evening passed in a strange limbo. Heightened security around the estate. Massimo and his team working overtime to identify the mysterious threat. Guards on every corner, cameras monitoring every angle.But inside the house, in the spaces between the tension, life continued.Arabelle found Dante in his study around ten PM, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, staring at security reports that apparently weren't yielding anything useful."You should eat something," she said from the doorway.He looked up, and some of the hardness in his expression softened. "So should you.""I had the kitchen make us something. It's in the dining room." She leaned against the doorframe. "Come on. All this can wait."A tired smile tugged at his lips. "Are you being caring right now?”He followed her to the dining room where Maria had set out a simple meal—pasta, salad, wine. Nothing elaborate. Just food.They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the kind that came from being at ease with e

The bass from the club's sound system vibrated through the floor as Dante and Massimo made their way through the crowded space. Red lighting cast everything in a sultry glow, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the air thick with expensive cologne and anticipation."Remind me again why we're here?" Dante had to raise his voice over the music."Because you've been wound tighter than a spring for days," Massimo shouted back. "And because men need to do stupid shit together sometimes. It's tradition.""Stupid shit being poker in a nightclub?""Exactly." Massimo grinned. "Besides, when was the last time you did something that wasn't a strategy meeting or a security briefing?"Dante couldn't actually remember.They headed to the private gaming room in the back—away from the main crowd but still pulsing with energy. A poker table was already set up, four men waiting."Valerio." One of them—Enzo, a minor player in the city's underground—nodded in greeting. "Didn't expect to see you h