Semua Bab The Mafia King and His Bride: Bab 11 - Bab 20

* Miranda * My second day in a new place. I went to the huge kitchen and grab a cup of coffee from the staff who were able to serve me as soon as I entered. The mansion is big not to mention both luxurious and elegant; however, it stood cold as if it were deciding whether to accept me. I wandered at first, past tall windows and corridors that smelled faintly of old wood and polish, my footsteps soft on stone. Every room carried history based on oil portraits of De Luca ancestors with eyes that seemed to follow me, heavy drapes, and furniture that looked like it had never been moved, only endured. It was beautiful and elegant. Intimidating but lonely. Outside, the sunlight spilled across the paddocks, and the sound of horses pulled me forward before I even realized I'd changed direction. The back stables were alive in a way the house wasn't. I stopped at the fence, resting my hands on the smooth wood as a dark stallion trotted past. Someone stood nearby, leaning against a post, wi

* Miranda *After lunch, I saw Lorenzo's guest through the wide windows of my room. The same woman he was with at that party and in that parking lot where God knows what they have been doing in that dark lot inside his car.The library doors were half-open as I passed by, and Stefi slipped through them as if she belonged there, heels quiet, posture confident, chin lifted. Black fitted dress. Red lips. The kind of woman who didn't ask permission to enter a man's space because she never had to.My steps slowed without my consent. Of course, she knew where to find him. It seemed that she had been in and out of this house a hundred times.Something sharp lodged itself behind my ribs. Annoyance, I told myself. Nothing more to it. I had no reason, no right, to care who walked into Lorenzo's library or why. And yet my fingers curled around the edge of the corridor table as I watched the doors close behind her, sealing whatever was happening inside away from me.Heat crept up my neck. Irritat

* Miranda *The place is so wide, I realized the moment we broke into the open land. I can't guess how many acres of land they owned but I heard from my father that De Luca family is extremely wealthy.The mansion disappeared behind us, swallowed by trees and distance, and all that remained was wind, the rhythmic thunder of hooves, and the wild stretch of green rolling endlessly ahead. I leaned forward instinctively, laughter tearing from my chest as the mare responded beneath me, powerful and eager, like she'd been waiting for this too.I hadn't realized how much I needed this until today.The air rushed past my face, tugging loose strands of hair free from my ponytail. Sunlight filtered through branches as we veered toward the forest path Lorenzo had pointed out, his stallion cutting a dark, commanding line ahead of me. He rode like he was part of the animal, controlled, confident, completely at home. Every so often he glanced back, checking the distance between us, his jaw tight, a

* Miranda *I woke up late the next day. The realization came slowly, when I opened my eyes to unfamiliar sorroundings. I am still not used to this bedroom. For a few seconds, I didn't know where I was. Then the ceiling came into focus, it's too high, too ornate, and the memory of waterfalls, horses, and a kiss I wasn't supposed to remember rushed back all at once.I sat up, heart thudding with Lorenzo's image inside my head.Sunlight was already spilling through the curtains, far too bright for someone who should have been up hours ago. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and glanced at the clock. Embarrassingly late.Great! It doesn't feel good to wake up this late eventhough am not working.I washed up quickly and dressed, half-expecting someone to knock and scold me for sleeping in. No one came. When I stepped into the hallway, the mansion felt, hollow. Not empty, exactly, but suspended. Like everyone was holding their breath.One of the maids told me quietly that Lorenzo had

* Miranda *I felt it, and its eating me from the inside. It became something which is out of my control, like my own body moves without my permission.The pull like a magnet. The heat that is igniting from deep inside of me. The way the air between us thickened every time his eyes lingered too long on my lips, my hands, the curve of my waist as I shifted on the stool. Whiskey made everything softer and sharper all at once, and Lorenzo, oh God! he was impossible to ignore up close.He was beautiful in a dangerous way.Not polished-pretty. Not the kind that men were taught to be. There was strength in the lines of his face, in the hard set of his jaw that looked like it had learned restraint the brutal way. His shoulders filled the space without effort, broad, solid, like the room had been built to hold him. And his strong hands, steady, controlled, looked like they were meant to grip things firmly and never let go.Including me. I watched the way his Adam's apple moved when he swallow