Semua Bab Mafia Boss's stolen sperm: Bab 31 - Bab 40

The silence after the doctor's visit was different. It wasn't just awkward. It was heavy. It was the quiet of a courtroom waiting for a verdict. I had the evidence. The ledgers. The truth was a weapon, and I had to decide who to aim it at. I found her in the library nook. She wasn't reading. She was just sitting, the ultrasound photo on her knee, her fingers tracing the outline of the tiny shape. The protective light was still in her eyes, but it was dimmed by a deep, pensive sadness. She was mourning the life she thought she had. "We need to talk," I said. She looked up, wary. "More complications?" "The truth." I held a tablet in my hand. On it was a scanned image. A page from my father's private ledger. "I told you your adoption was facilitated by my father. That was a softening. The truth is more direct." I placed the tablet beside her. Neat, precise columns in my father's distinct, sharp handwriting. Dates. Amounts. Descriptions. A record of transactions—not for money. Fo

The operations room hummed through the night. Marcos and I worked in tandem, fingers flying across keyboards, dismantling Marchetti's empire piece by piece. Not with guns-with contracts and clauses, with regulatory filings and anonymous tips. The modern mobster ran on legitimate fronts, and I knew exactly where to cut. "Neptune's Passage shipping consortium," I said into the phone. "Pull our logistics contract. Cite clause 7-B." Helen didn't hesitate. "Understood. The financial penalty -" "Let them sue. By the time the lawsuit moves, they'll be bankrupt. Their loans are collateralized against our contract. Pull it, and the house of cards falls." I ended the call and moved to the next target. Marcos's voice crackled through my earpiece. "Three of Marchetti's restaurant fronts are now flagged for health audits at 7 AM. The inspector assigned has a brother who lost his pension to a Marchetti-backed scam. He's motivated." "Good." I pulled up a real-estate portfolio. "The North

Chloe.My best friend. My sister in all but blood. The woman who had held me while I cried about my failing relationship ―all while sleeping with the man causing the tears.I must have made a sound, because Liam's hand came to rest, very lightly, on my shoulder."Explain," Liam commanded.David was crying now, messy, self-indulgent tears. "She came to me after we got together. She said you were pathetic. That you'd never truly love anyone, that you were too closed off, too damaged. She said you needed a push. To really break. So you'd see how empty your life was."Each word was a nail. A petty, intimate evil. This wasn't a grand mob plot. This was a small, jealous heart, dripping poison."She gave you the money?" I asked, my voice a ghost of itself."She set it up. She had a friend. A guy with connections. The money just appeared in my account. She said it was for my trouble. For helping you get the wake-up call you needed." He was babbling now, wanting us to see him as a victim. "She

ALEXANDRA POVLiam stood, pulling me up with him. He didn't let go of my hand. He led me to the great window. The dawn was bleeding into the sky, painting the clouds in streaks of rose and gold. The sea was calm for once, a sheet of hammered silver. "When this is over," he began, his voice low, gazing out, "we will not live in a penthouse fortress. Or a cliffside bunker." He pointed with his chin toward a distant, wooded curve of the coastline. "A house there. Wood and glass. A garden that runs down to the rocks. A real home. With a room for Ella. Or Leo. With a window that faces the sunrise." He was painting a picture. A dream. Daring to imagine an after. "A big kitchen," I added, my voice dreamy. "With a butcher-block island. And bookshelves. Lots of them. Not for show. For reading." "A piano in the corner," he said. "A real one. Not hidden." "And a porch," I said, closing my eyes. "With a swing. Where we can sit and listen to the sea. And just... be still." We stood in silenc

ALEXANDRA'S POV The silence after the truth was solid, suffocating. It filled the vast space of the cliff house, pressing against the armored glass. It was the silence of a world re-forming itself along a terrible new crack. My mind was a shattered mirror. Each shard reflected a different lie: the clinic room, cold and bright; the first ultrasound, the flickering heartbeat; his palm on my skin, feeling the flutter; the name Ella spoken softly in the dark. "I didn't know," I whispered again. A child's plea. Believe me. Liam finally blinked, the motion slow, as if his eyelids were made of stone. "I believe that you are as shocked as I am." A statement of fact, not comfort. "Which means we were both deceived. The question is by whom. And to what end." He turned and walked back into the operations room. The door sealed behind him. I was alone. The violation was not just of trust, but of my body, my choice my very biology. The most intimate decision of my life had been hijacked. The