All Chapters of Contract with the Cold-Hearted Mafia Boss: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Lena’s POV"Time of death: 11:47 PM."The doctor's voice echoed through the sterile room like a death knell. Salvatore stood at the foot of the hospital bed, his face carved from stone."It's over," his voice devoid of emotion.Nico grew smaller and more distant on the white hospital bed. The machines that had kept him tethered to life fell silent, their screens going dark one by one."No!"I bolted upright, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.It was just a nightmare. Slowly, my mind began to clear.Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since Nico was attacked while handling the family's art trade business. Seventeen days since the doctors delivered their verdict: T5 complete spinal cord injury.Every night brought the same torment. Sometimes I dreamed of Nico weeping, begging me to let him die. Other nights, it was the steady beep of machines suddenly going flat, doctors shaking their heads in defeat.I pushed myself from the bed, my bare feet finding the coo

The alarm screamed through the air. Isabella and I burst through the doorway to find medical staff already swarming around Nico's bed, their movements swift and practiced. The heart monitor showed his pulse had dropped dangerously low."What's happening?" Isabella's voice cracked with terror.Dr. chen, the attending physician didn't look up from adjusting the IV drip. "His heart rate is unstable. We're administering medication to regulate it now.""I can't... I can't watch this," Isabella whispered, her voice barely audible over the medical equipment. "Madonna mia, not my son..."I remained in the doorway, frozen as I watched the medical team work on my husband. Nico looked so small, so fragile, nothing like the man who used to fill a room with his presence and gentle laughter.It was then I noticed the wetness seeping through my shoes. Looking down, I saw the thermos I'd been carrying had spilled, creating a puddle of Maria's homemade minestrone on the polished floor.How long had I

Lena's POVThe elevator ascended silently to the sixty-second floor. Through the polished steel doors, I caught glimpses of my pale reflection.Salvatore Venturi was the most feared man in the Venturi family empire, a reputation earned through blood and brutality. Thirteen years ago, when he was twenty-two, the family had suffered a catastrophic betrayal. His youngest brother Vincenzo had been killed in an FBI raid.From that moment, Salvatore had transformed into something else entirely. Cold. Calculating. Merciless.And famously, dangerously sexual.The stories about his appetite for women were legendary among New York's underground circles. There was the socialite from the Upper East Side who'd tried to seduce information from him about a rival family's operations. She'd emerged from his penthouse three days later with cigarette burns on her thighs and rope marks around her wrists, her spirit so thoroughly broken that she'd checked herself into a psychiatric facility and never spok

Lena's POV"Lena," he said. "How unexpected."I stood as he approached, my hands trembling slightly. Salvatore wore a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that emphasized his tall, lean frame. His hair, the same deep auburn as Nico's but cropped shorter, caught the light from the crystal chandeliers overhead. His bone structure was more pronounced than Nico's, carved with sharper angles that belonged on a Renaissance statue rather than a living man."Thank you for seeing me," I managed.He gestured toward his office. "After you."The space beyond those imposing oak doors was a study in controlled masculinity. Dark wood panels, leather-bound books, and abstract paintings that probably cost more than most people's homes.Salvatore settled behind his massive desk, fingers steepled as he studied me with unsettling intensity. I remained standing, uncertain whether sitting would make me appear too comfortable or too submissive."You mentioned this was about Nico," he said finally.The words I'

Salvatore's POVShe was more beautiful than I had expected.Lena's dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in silken waves, one strand falling forward to brush against her breast.Her body was exquisite.Full breasts with dusky pink nipples that hardened under my gaze, a narrow waist that flared into curved hips, and legs that seemed to go on forever. Even her feet were elegant, with delicate toes and high arches.But her character was far less appealing than her physical form.I watched her writhe on my lap with growing distaste. What kind of woman comes to her husband's brother asking to be impregnated? The answer was simple: the kind who understood exactly what a Venturi heir would inherit. She'd always played the devoted wife so well, but here she was, naked and desperate for my seed."Please, Salvatore," she gasped against my neck, her lips trailing wet kisses along my throat. "I need this. Nico needs this."Her technique was clumsy, amateur. She kissed like a virgin trying to sedu