All Chapters of Married To Danger: Chapter 71 - Chapter 75

ADRIAN I met Damien in the cigar lounge for our weekly debrief. The room smelled of smoke and leather, the city noises muffled behind heavy drapes. New York had been a dead end so far; pulling useful intel out of that mess took more patience than I had to spare. “The don has been on edge,” Damien said, settling into the armchair opposite me. “He’s been executing men left and right — traitors, bikers, even some of the Brotherhood. People are scared. One wrong move and you’re finished.” “If you have nothing to hide, you’ve nothing to fear,” I replied, but my voice was flat. I’d learned the difference between what everyone said and what actually mattered in this life. Damien didn’t miss the implication. “Exactly. But you didn’t tell Rico everything about what happened with Lorenzo and even how Serena died. In his current mood, that omission could cost you.” Only Damien knew the whole story. Even my father had received a slightly tweaked version of the truth. He had no idea Rico had

VALENTINA Adrian worked late that night, long after the house had gone quiet. I had tried to wait up for him, but at some point, exhaustion pulled me under. When I opened my eyes again, the other side of the bed was still cold. Stefan’s small body was curled against mine, his soft breathing filling the dark room. I carefully slid out of bed, tucked the blanket around him, and followed the faint golden light spilling from downstairs. The house was silent, but a light was on and it led me to the cigar lounge. Adrian sat in his favorite armchair in front of the fireplace, a half-empty tumbler of whisky resting in his hand. The amber liquid caught the firelight, glinting like something dangerous. His jacket and tie were draped carelessly over the other chair, his vest still on, but the top buttons of his shirt were undone, sleeves rolled back to his forearms. His hair was a little messy, his expression even more so. He rubbed at the stubble on his jaw, lost in thought, and for a momen

VALENTINA - THREE MONTHS LATER The rain had already started by the time I picked Stefan up from school. I’d been learning to drive over the summer and I was pretty good at it already, so I didn’t take a driver today. Stefan climbed into the backseat without a word. He didn’t even look at me. He just buckled himself in, turned his face toward the window, and watched the rain trace patterns down the glass. I tried to start a conversation. “Hey, sweetheart. How was school today?” No answer. “Did you have your art class? You were excited about painting that volcano, remember?” He gave a faint shrug, still staring out at the gray blur of houses as we passed them. Something about his silence unsettled me. Stefan wasn’t the chattiest kid in the world, but since he’d started talking again, he usually had something to say, especially about art, or the new dog we got, or what Sofia did that annoyed him. But now, he was like a statue. I kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror. His