Betrayed, Then Claimed by the Mafia King (18+) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 71 - チャプター 80

Carter Ricci__________“I get it,” she whispers, her voice trembling, a bitter edge to her words. “Anyone would choose their mother over an ex-wife.”“Exactly,” I reply, my thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Family loyalty runs deep in the Ricci family. Vincent’s choice was clear, his mother over his ex-wife. But me? I would choose you over everything and everyone.” My gaze locks with hers, serious and unwavering.She tilts her head, her eyes testing me. “Even if someone threatened Granny… and forced you to choose between her and me?” she asks, raising a brow.“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. My blue eyes darken, hardening with resolve. “I would choose you. My mother would understand. She raised a Sicilian monster, one who values his wife above all.” I lean in, pressing my lips to hers, sealing the promise with a deep, fervent kiss. “Don’t ever doubt what I would sacrifice for you.”She breaks away slightly, laughing through tears. “You’re crazy,” she retorts, laughing harder.

Carter Ricci__________She sits up on the table, her legs wrapping around my waist, pressing herself against me as her lips crash onto mine, her tongue swirling desperately in my mouth. I pull her flush against me, tasting myself on her tongue, feeling the heat of my cum sliding down her chin. My hands grip her thighs, spreading them wider and I lift her suddenly, making her gasp into the kiss.I break the kiss, panting, my eyes dark with hunger. “I’m not done with you,” I growl, carrying her to the nearby desk. I clear it with a sweep of my arm, sending papers and books flying. I sink onto the edge of the desk and pull her into my lap, letting her straddle me, her body pressing flush against mine, our eyes locking in a heated, desperate gaze.“That’s enough,” she protests, sticking her tongue out at me.“No, it's never enough, baby,” I say firmly, my hands gripping her hips possessively. I lean forward, pressing my lips to her neck. My cock twitches hard against her stomach. “Give m

Lyla Rose________Carter’s car pulls up at the cemetery and my chest tightens as if a fist has slammed into it. Vincent came all the way to London, risking everything, just to take me back to Italy and now he’s dead, buried here, so far from the life he wanted to build with me. The pain is unbearable, twisting in my chest, tearing me apart. I never thought I’d allow myself to feel this pain again and yet it hurts so much that I wish I could join him.. but I can’t. I carry an innocent life inside me, fragile and dependent, and I cannot destroy it.The world feels impossibly quiet, except for the priest’s solemn voice, carrying softly over the cold, still air as he recites the final prayers. Powerful men in black stand around Vincent’s casket, their faces stoic and distant. His mother kneels beside the grave, her shoulders shaking, her sobs muffled but desperate. His father, Marco, remains rigid, pale, a frozen sentinel. Maria, the whore of a woman he married after me, stares blankly a

Lyla Rose_________I don’t know what to do anymore. I never imagined I’d be here, in this house, in this life, carrying Carter’s child while my heart still aches for Vincent. Did I make a mistake moving on with Carter because I thought Vincent betrayed me? Was I stupid not to give him another chance? Should I leave Carter, or stay because… somewhere deep down, I know he’s the one I should choose? But it hurts, losing Vincent still tears me apart.And no matter where I run, Carter will find me. I can never truly escape him. I’m carrying his heir. If I try to leave, he’ll be enraged, and I’ll be trapped in a storm I can’t survive. What do I do now?__________A week drifts by like a blur. I barely eat. I barely sleep. And I know Carter doesn’t deserve this coldness from me. I can’t afford to be weak, not with eight weeks of life growing inside me. I rise unsteadily, take a long shower, and go downstairs, trying to steady my shaking hands, trying to appear calm.The mansion is quiet, th

Lyla Rose________After a while, I gently lay the twins in the crib, smoothing the blankets over them with care, my fingers lingering on their tiny hands. The quiet hum of the nursery fills the space, a fragile rhythm of their breaths and soft sighs. I take a deep, shaky breath, my heart full and aching all at once.Carter enters quietly, his presence calm but deliberate. He kneels before me, a small, carefully wrapped box in his hands, his eyes soft yet unwavering.“I… thought you might like this,” he murmurs, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.I blink, taking the box hesitantly. Its weight feels strange, yet comforting, as if it holds all the pieces of a past I’ve tried to bury. “Carter…” I whisper, my voice trembling.“Open it,” he says simply, his gaze steady, his hands resting lightly on my knees.I unwrap it slowly, my breath catching in my throat. Inside is the delicate golden locket, tiny photographs lie pressed together, me, Carter, and Vincent smiling, frozen in a moment