All Chapters of Mafia's Obsession - The CEO's Contracted Songbird : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

AdrianoLunch had come and gone in a blur. Too quiet. Too controlled. Like everyone was holding themselves together by sheer will.I passed the information Liam had given us to my government contact—kept it brief, precise. Now it was a waiting game.And I hated waiting.By the time I got to the study at 2pm, my father, Zio, and Zia were already there. Seated. Composed. Watching. It was odd to see my Zia there, but her presence was grounding. I took my seat, ignoring the pull of bruised muscle and the deeper ache sitting in my chest. The door opened behind me.Luca and Liam walked in together. Still strange to see. Still wrong in every way. But I kept that to myself.“I believe there has been some progress since earlier,” my father said. “Report.”Luca went first. “Mason has narrowed it down to five possible vehicles,” he said. “We caught a break with the dashcam—he’s analysing it now to eliminate the other four.”A nod from the seniors. “What else?” my father prompted.Liam stepped i

Remi They had to sedate me. That’s how bad it got.After the dream, after *feeling* her—my readings spiked and refused to come down. Monitors screaming, doctors barking orders. After I flatlined andbthey revived me...the worst was still not over...Then came the call, the Doctors and nurses screaming at my Security. My stats spiking dangerously again. They were forced to sedate me but stood guard like I was about to bolt out of the damn hospital.Now I was lying on my stomach, jaw clenched, while two doctors hovered over me—pressing, checking, muttering under their breath as they examined the bruising across my back and thighs.Bruising that hadn’t been there before. Bruising no one here could explain. A medical mystery they called it. I knew exactly where it came from. I just didn’t say a word.The door opened. I barely turned my head, but I caught Aaron stepping in—with a woman I didn’t recognize. Older. Composed. Not hospital staff.“Remi,” Aaron said carefully, “your Aunt Maria i

Maria The ride back felt shorter.Not because the distance had changed… but because something had. There was movement now. Direction. A thread we were finally starting to follow.At one point, I reached over and switched the music again. This time—**Lionel Richie**.Adriano groaned immediately. “Zia… do you know any artists after 2015?”I laughed. Actually laughed. “Good music doesn’t expire,” I told him lightly.But the laughter faded as quickly as it came. Reality always found its way back in. He told me about the conversation he overheard at the front desk. The break-in. The connections forming.And then I told him about Remi. About the bruising. The placement. The timing. “Adriano…” I said quietly, watching the road ahead. “A connection like that… it’s rare.”I paused, letting the memory settle. “Years ago, the night Stefano - your dad was shot… in Chicago mind you - Luigi and I were at a restaurant. We left early because he suddenly clutched his chest, said he felt pain—exactly

LucaWe all just… sat there.No one rushing to speak. No one scrambling to argue. Just absorbing the truth my mother had laid out so cleanly it left nowhere to hide.Denton. Everything pointed to him. And somehow… it didn’t feel wrong.Ma excused herself quietly, like she hadn’t just upended the entire direction of the hunt, and headed toward the kitchen to put together a tray for herself and Adriano—they’d both missed dinner. Dad gathered the empty mugs without a word and followed her.For a moment, it was just us. Me. Adriano. Liam. Zio. And the weight of what came next.Then Liam’s phone rang. He didn’t hesitate. “Jerry… give me something.”He hit speaker. A crackle… then—“Yeah… the video clip you sent—I’ve got some findings you can work with.”Every spine in the room straightened.“First—this unknown guy is big. Tall and built. Approximately six-two, maybe six-three. Weight around two-eighty.” A pause. “Shoe size twelve or thirteen. Estimated from the shadow he cast—used Adriano f

AdrianoBreakfast should’ve felt normal. It didn’t.Not with everything sitting between us—unspoken, unresolved, and urgent. I filled them in quickly. The government contact. The shutdown. The call with Mason. The fact that whatever we were dealing with had reach—real reach.That alone darkened the mood at the table. Then my phone rang. Every head turned. I glanced at the screen. “Mason.”Silence fell instantly. I answered and put it on speaker. “Morning, Mace…”“When we spoke last night,” he started, voice tight but charged, “we said maybe we’ve been looking at this wrong.I leaned forward slightly.“We were chasing the kidnapper,” he continued, “but he’s got enough clout to stay hidden. What we *do* know is the blood got handed off to the ambulance. And that ambulance tracked to the truck stop.”My pulse picked up. “So that’s where I focussed.”There was something in his voice. Energy. Excitement. “Spit it out, Mace,” I cut in. “You’re killing us here.”A breath. Then—“I’ve got it.