All Chapters of The Mafia Princess: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

It’s been three days since we landed in Italy, and the air still feels foreign—too sweet, too heavy, like it’s trying to seduce me into forgetting everything I left behind.Sam and Gabby are in full wedding mode, flipping through silk swatches and arguing over centerpieces like this is real. Like Luca and I aren’t about to walk into a trap dressed in couture. Momma sits beside me, regal and quiet, her eyes scanning every detail with the precision of a queen inspecting her court. She doesn’t speak often, but when she does, it lands like prophecy.We’re at lunch now, tucked into a sun-drenched patio in Florence, surrounded by plates of burrata and sparkling water. I’m trying to breathe through the chaos—through Sam’s laughter, Gabby’s teasing, and the weight of my mother’s letter still folded in my purse like a secret I’m not ready to share.Then she walks in.Lina.Alone.She’s dressed like she belongs here—linen pants, oversized sunglasses, that effortless elegance that always made me

Saturday draped itself over Florence like silk—warm, golden, and just shy of overwhelming. I stood in the lobby of the hotel, heart thudding like it had something to prove. The marble floors gleamed beneath me, but all I could see was the elevator’s slow descent, the blinking numbers counting down to everything I’d left behind and everything I still carried.They were here.I hadn’t let myself imagine this moment too vividly. Too dangerous. Too tender. But now, as the doors slid open and I saw Sal’s steady gaze, John’s crooked grin, Rob’s wide arms already reaching for me—I unraveled.“Princess,” Rob breathed, scooping me into a hug that nearly knocked the breath out of me. John was next, his forehead pressing to mine like we were kids again, like the world hadn’t shifted beneath our feet.And Sal… he didn’t say a word. Just placed his hand on my cheek, thumb brushing away the tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. His approval was silent, but it wrapped around me like armor.Then came th

I woke up with Luca's arms wrapped around me, leaving just enough room to turn and face him. He looked so peaceful yet conflicted at the same time. I ran my fingers gently from his jawline down to his neck, pausing to see if he’d wake. When he didn’t, my hand continued its path to his chest and further down to the V below his abs. I froze as a groan escaped his lips. Glancing up at his beautiful, sleeping face, an idea formed in my mind. It meant so much to me when he agreed to my plan for Friday. I know we’ve got a lot going on, but I need reassurance that I’m wrong. Ever since we ran into Lina last week, I can’t shake the feeling that Ivan is closer than we think. We both need a distraction.He slept in his boxers, so I decided to tease him a bit, running my fingers along the seam of his boxers before slipping my hand inside.If he woke, he gave no indication—no sound, no movement. I wrapped my hand around his cock and started pumping my hand up and down. I needed to please him for b

LinaThe boutique’s air still clings to me—perfume, silk, the hush of money. I step into the sun, phone already in hand. They didn’t see me. Gabby and Kat were too busy gossiping, too loud, too careless.I dial Ivan.“They’re doing the rehearsal dinner Friday night,” I say. “Rooftop. Sunset. Luca’s favorite.”Ivan’s voice is calm, pleased. “They let that slip?”“Gabby was talking to Kat like I wasn’t even there. They don’t suspect a thing.”“Then they’re getting sloppy,” he says. “Perfect.”I glance back at the boutique window, where my reflection looks every inch the donna I’m meant to be.“They think they’re planning a celebration,” I say. “But they’re handing us the schedule.”Ivan chuckles. “Let them decorate the stage. We’ll decide who walks off it.”I smile, slow and sure. They think I’m on the outside. But I’m already inside the story—they just haven’t read the ending."Get back here, I have a reward for you. You did well, Krasuvyy""Yes sir." I squeeze my legs together before

The suite smells like hairspray, roses, and sugar—Talia’s sticky fingers are all over the macaron tray, and no one has the heart to stop her.Kat’s belly is propped on a pillow. Hannah’s feet are in a bucket of ice. Sam’s trying to zip Gina into a dress that clearly wasn’t designed for third-trimester curves. Tosha’s laughing so hard she’s crying, and Momma’s just sipping her tea like she’s seen it all before—which she has.Aunt Lori’s fixing my veil. Her hands are steady. Her eyes are soft.Gabby’s perched on the arm of the couch, legs crossed, smug and glowing—but not in the hormonal way. She’s the only one in the room not pregnant, and she’s making sure we all remember it.“I’m just saying,” she starts, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “Rob’s been texting me good morning for three weeks. That’s basically a proposal in lawyer time.”Kat gasps. “GreenLee’s Rob?”Sam grins. “He’s got that quiet freak energy. I support this.”Gabby shrugs. “I like a man who can win a case b