All Chapters of Caring For The Mafia Son: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Rachel POV A week later, I stood once again in the courtyard. This time, Leo stood bravely beside me, clutching my hand tightly. "You'll come back after your class, right, Mama?" he asked, his voice small but steady. "I promise. I'll be back in a few hours." I squeezed his hand. "And maybe... we can talk to Papa about a special surprise later." His eyes lit up. "A surprise?" "Maybe. A furry, four-legged surprise that could be your best friend when I'm not here." The idea had taken root after seeing him play alone in the garden, his imaginary friends as his only company. A living, breathing companion felt like the perfect solution. Leo's gasp was everything. "A dog?!" “Shhh," I laughed softly, glancing at Damien, who was observing us with his usual unreadable expression. "It's just an idea. We have to ask Papa." Damien's gaze narrowed slightly, catching our whispered exchange. He didn'

Rachel POVThe day passed in a blur of avoidance, my heart still pounding a frantic, irregular rhythm whenever the memory of today surfaced.I'd been avoiding him all day. Avoiding the ghost of his fingers brushing my lips, the solid warmth of his hand on my hip. And his confession... it had shocked me to my core. It wasn't a compliment. It was a possession.By evening, I was sitting on the floor of Leo's room, legs folded beside him as he lined up his toy dinosaurs with deep concentration. I was wearing my old pyjamas. Not the soft silk I'd bought with Damien's card. Not the sexy ones he'd "haunted" himself over for weeks.Just my stretched, faded cotton set from home. From simpler times.Because the last thing I needed was to tempt Damien again, or tempt myself.No. Not thinking about that and not thinking about the heat curling low in my stomach. I gave myself a mental scolding. Focus, Rachel.Finally, I pic

The cold night air did nothing to clear the ringing in Damien’s ears. It was a high-pitched whine, a relentless chorus to the pounding in his skull and the sharper, burning ache along his ribs. He leaned against the sedan. The warehouse behind him was a silent tomb now, the echoes of gunfire and shouts replaced by the quiet, efficient movements of his men as they cleaned up. They’d won, technically. The Ravens’ operatives were dead or captured. But the victory was ashes in his mouth. He’d been slow. Distracted. The thought was a poison. In the middle of a raid, his mind had flickered to Rachel’s worried face, when he left. A ghost of warmth in a cold place. And when the knife came for his side, it wasn’t an opponent’s face he saw, but the memory of Leo’s delighted gasp as the puppy licked his fingers, a split-second delay that let the blade cut deep.  He’d fought through a fog, his instincts blunted by a memory of soft, useless images—the way she

Rachel POV I stood in front of my closet, staring at the new clothes that had arrived yesterday night —elegant, expensive, carefully curated by a personal shopper Mr Vance had sent. Tailored trousers, cashmere sweaters, leather bags that cost more than my entire old wardrobe combined. "You're a Montrel. Start dressing like one. Everywhere." Damien's words echoed as I pulled on a cream-colored turtleneck and camel trousers. Simple, elegant, expensive. I looked like someone's wife. Someone important. I looked like I belonged to him. The thought made my stomach flip—not with fear, but with something far more dangerous. “Time to face Eli,” I muttered to my reflection, squaring my shoulders.  The woman in the mirror was poised, polished, and utterly foreign to the campus sidewalks waiting for me. I slung the new bag—its leather sinfully soft—over my shoulder and headed out. I’d ignored all texts from my friends since Eli’s blow-up dur

Rachel POVThe manor gates opened as our car approached, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the driveway.I leaned my head against the window, exhausted. My eyes were still puffy despite splashing cold water on my face before leaving campus, and my chest felt hollow—scraped clean by tears and shame.Eli's words kept replaying. The crowd's stares. Mark's silent intervention.I wondered what he'd written in his report. How much detail he'd included. Whether Damien would be angry.The car stopped smoothly at the main entrance. Mark opened my door, his expression as neutral as always, but something in his eyes seemed almost... sympathetic."Mrs Montrel," he said quietly.I stepped out, hugging my bag to my chest. The manor loomed before me—grand, beautiful, and suddenly suffocating.And I had to face the man whose voice and confession about me still echoed in my head days ago.I'd spent the entire day wearing the clothes his money prov