All Chapters of The Mafia's Forced Bride: Chapter 31 - Chapter 39

( Aria's Point of View )Fear tastes like copper and desperation. Or maybe that was just the blood I'd drawn from biting my lip too hard.Giuliana's study had become a war room in the span of minutes. Viktor stood over a tactical map spread across the massive oak desk, his finger tracing routes and calculating distances. Isabella was on her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as she tried to track how the federal safe house in Montana had been compromised. Dante paced like a caged animal, his injured shoulder forgotten in his fury. And I sat in the corner, watching the video of Elena on repeat, trying to find some clue I'd missed."The safe house was hit six hours ago," Viktor said, ending his phone call. "Three agents dead, two wounded. Elena's protection detail. All five of them. Gone. No survivors to question.""How did no one notice for six hours?" Natasha demanded. She'd arrived in the study still in her pajamas, Mikhail and Alexei flanking her like bodyguards."Because th

( Aria's Point of View )I woke up in the Rose Suite twelve hours after the factory rescue, my body aching in places I didn't know could ache. Sunlight streamed through the French doors, afternoon sun that told me I'd slept through most of the day. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ornate ceiling and trying to convince myself that yesterday had actually happened.Elena was safe. Evangeline was dead. We'd survived.So why did I feel like we'd lost something important?A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in," I called, expecting Natasha or maybe one of the staff with food.Instead, Dante limped in, still favoring his injured shoulder but moving better than yesterday. He carried a tray with coffee, toast, and what looked like scrambled eggs."Breakfast in bed," he announced. "Or lunch, technically, since it's almost two in the afternoon.""You shouldn't be carrying things," I said, sitting up. "Your shoulder...""Is healing fine," Dante interrupted, setting the tray

( Aria's Point of View )War doesn't announce itself with trumpets. It creeps in through cracks in trust, through exhaustion, through the slow realization that everyone you love might die tomorrow.The command center had become the beating heart of our defense, a converted ballroom now filled with tactical displays, communication equipment, and people who, twenty-four hours ago, had been enemies. Isabella manned the central computer station, coordinating surveillance feeds from cameras Viktor's team had installed around the estate perimeter. Senator Hartley stood over a three-dimensional tactical map projected onto the table, moving virtual markers representing defensive positions and potential attack vectors. And Viktor prowled the edges of the room like a caged wolf, questioning every decision, challenging every assumption."The north wall is our weakest point," Viktor was saying, jabbing a finger at the projection. "Trees come too close to the perimeter fence. It gives attackers co

( Aria's Point of View )Waiting is its own special kind of torture. Especially when the people you love are walking into danger you sent them toward.The command center had transformed into a nerve center of barely controlled tension. Isabella sat at her station, monitoring six different camera feeds and three communication channels simultaneously. I stood behind her, watching the tactical display that showed Viktor's strike team as moving dots on a digital map. Dante paced like a caged animal, his injured shoulder forgotten in his anxiety. Even Giuliana had abandoned her usual composure, standing rigid by the window with her arms crossed tightly."Team One approaching outer perimeter," Mikhail's voice crackled through the speakers. "No visible sentries. Proceeding to secondary position."On the screen, I watched the thermal imaging Isabella had hacked from a commercial satellite. The Riverside Manufacturing Complex appeared as a ghostly outline, heat signatures blooming in different

( Aria's Point of View )Victory tastes like ash when you realize it was never really victory at all. Just a lull in the storm.The ride back to Villa Moretti should have felt triumphant. We'd rescued Senator Hartley's daughter, captured Marcus, and survived another deadly encounter with the Tribunal. But the silence in the SUV was heavy with something darker than exhaustion. A creeping unease that none of us wanted to name.Dante sat beside me, his hand gripping mine so tightly my fingers were going numb, but I didn't pull away. Viktor rode in the front passenger seat, his phone pressed to his ear as he coordinated with the teams still extracting from Riverside. And in the third row, Mikhail slumped against the window, his shirt stained with someone else's blood."How many did we lose?" I asked quietly, afraid of the answer."Two dead at Riverside," Viktor said without turning around. "Three wounded, one critical. The medical team is working on him now." He paused. "Could have been w