Sinfully Yours' Step-Brother of Mine의 모든 챕터: 챕터 41 - 챕터 50

Cellie’s povDemetrio was nowhere to be found when I woke up. His side of the bed was still warm and I knew it wasn’t long ago he left my apartment.My heart dropped in disappointment. I had expected him to still be here when I got up so we could finally even out our long overdue conversation. I might be pushing it, but I had wanted him to stay for breakfast.My cheeks heated at the mental image of Demetrio sitting in my tiny kitchen while he watched me prepare breakfast. We’d eat it before going back to my room for another kind of breakfast.I released a groggy breath and pushed out of my bed. My legs staggered to the kitchen and I helped myself to a glass of water. Demetrio had been in my house, had stayed the entire night, yet I wasn’t able to establish the boundaries I swore I would.The realization came with a shitty feeling, a feeling that bothered and pinched at my side like a corset filled with jutting pins. I despised how I lost my bearings with Demetrio.I was usually a very

Cellie’s povDemetrio had insisted that the reception be held at the DeLeon mansion for security reasons even though the Cosa Nostra families hardly ever celebrated outside the safety of their residence.I didn’t know much about the war but from the bits of gossip I heard, it was messy. The Russians or whoever was the enemy were unpredictable and ruthless. An attack at an event hall would be a piece of cake for them.I stepped onto the beautifully decorated patio that was the venue and the place looked completely different from the last time I was present. The recliners and deck chairs had been removed, along with the dining table set. Multiple wrought iron tables now occupied the lawns, with most of them already occupied by guests.Georgiana’s red peonies sat in a vase on every table along with luxurious gold plated tableware. More flowers in tall, white flower pots were placed strategiCellie around the space and fairy lights draped low from open patio shade.The place looked like a

Demetrio’s povIt was a fucking bloodbath.My men stood guard as I ambled down the hall, shooting at everything that looked remotely suspicious, my shots aimed to kill.Three of the soldiers had been shot dead, leaving me with four out of the seven that came along with me.I walked over several unmoving bodies, recognizing some more of my soldiers among them.Red, hot fury boiled in my bloodstream. The absolute gall to attack no other place but my family residence and on my little sister’s wedding day.Hot fumes puffed out of my lungs as something black pulsed within me. Alexei Mikhalov was going to regret this day.The bastard was obviously reacting in response to the show I put out for him last time. He was pissed and probably nursing the loss of his alliance with the Serbs and his multimillion dollar business venture that had shut down indefinitely due to the drama with the press.“What’s the situation on the patio?” I asked, shooting twice at a bratva soldier I sighted in my perip

Cellie’s povIt was different, the kiss. It was less carnal, less primitive desire and more concrete and profound and charged with inexplicable feelings between us.Demetrio kissed me with an ardor, his mouth and tongue gentle yet firm, intense yet soft. I didn’t know what to make of it but I knew I loved it.A lone tear tumbled down my cheek. I was immensely relieved that he was fine, that those terrifying gunshots that rang over and over did not take him down.I was relieved but I was also a whole lot of other things. And these feelings overwhelmed me. Joy radiated through my heart at seeing him unhurt and very alive but I was haunted by the rising panic of my mind breaking ordeal of fearing for his life.It was a hard punch to the gut realizing how much I cared. Demetrio had unconsciously become a significant part of my life, so much I would be devastated if anything happened to him.The realization was crippling, sending genuine fear coursing through me.He was a mafia don, his li

Demetrio’s povThe death toll was a total of forty-eight. Forty-eight people out of the hundred and twenty people that were present for the wedding party.I stared at the list of their names projected on the grey walls of the conference room of my main club, my muscles tightening beneath my skin. Fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, all dead.A turbulent wave clashed in my chest and I pressed my fist on the conference table, even children hadn’t been spared.Dominic, sensing the pressure building inside me, flipped the list to something else and I was now staring at a picture of an unfamiliar man. “This is Yaroslav Kozlov aka the deathsmith and he’s the Alexei’s most deadliest krysha-”Krysha was the Russian term for enforcer and I didn’t need Dominic’s information to tell that this Yaroslav fucker was one. He had the empty gaze of one who had sent many men back to their maker.I got up and went around the long table to get a closer look at the projected pict