Chapter 49: Lorenzo

Danika pov Since the day Dante gave Emily his blood, he had disappeared completely. No calls. No messages. Nothing. I tried calling him a few times, and when he finally picked up, his voice sounded cold and distant. “I’m back in Chicago,” he said simply. “Take care of Emily and yourself.” And before I could even respond, he cut the call. I stared at my phone for a long moment after that. It wasn’t like Dante and I were in love or anything. Whatever existed between us was complicated… lust and pure sex. Most times, it felt like he only wanted me for sex, nothing more. But still… I couldn’t stop feeling guilty. Maybe because I never told him about Emily from the beginning. Maybe because of the look on his face when he found out. Or maybe because despite how dangerous and emotionally unavailable Dante was, he still gave his blood without hesitation to save her. Danika sighed softly, rubbing her forehead. Everything about Dante gave her a headache. Trying to push

Chapter 50 ~ The private meeting

Lorenzo. He looks nothing like the boy Danika remembers. He has filled out, the sharp angles of his face hardened by time and discipline. His suit is tailored to perfection, hugging thick thighs and a chest that strains against the crisp white fabric. A dusting of grey peppers his temples, giving him a look of mature authority that makes Danika’s knees threaten to buckle. His eyes, dark and piercing, sweep the room before locking onto hers. The shock hits him like a physical blow. His jaw goes slack, the confident smirk he wore evaporating instantly. His hand, halfway to adjusting his cuff, drops to his side. Danika’s grip on the folders tightens until her knuckles turn white, the plastic edges digging painfully into her palms. She cannot breathe. The scent of him—sandalwood and expensive tobacco, mixed with the faint, ghostly smell of rain—invades her senses, dragging up memories she has buried for years. "Danika?" Lorenzo breathes, his voice a rough rumble that scrapes again

Chapter 51: Echoes of obsidian

The pale gray light of dawn filters through the sheer curtains, casting long, muted stripes across the bedroom floor. Danika’s eyes flutter open, the heavy haze of sleep clinging to her limbs. She stretches, the sheets sliding down her naked torso, exposing the heavy curve of her breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. The cool morning air raises goosebumps on her skin, tightening her nipples into hard, sensitive peaks. She glances at the clock; it is far too early, but the anticipation buzzing beneath her skin keeps her from lying back down. Mr. Ethan is coming. She swings her legs out of bed, her feet touching the cold hardwood. Standing before the full-length mirror, she runs her hands over her hips, smoothing down the imaginary creases in her skin. She selects a pencil skirt that hugs her ass tight enough to outline the cheeks and a silk blouse that clings to her chest. After dressing, she pads softly into the living room. Catherine is already there, perched on the edge o

Chapter 52: Shattered Masquerade

The air in the room feels heavy, thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the dust of old money. Danika stands rigid beside Mr. Ethan, her fingers gripping the leather strap of her bag so tightly the knuckles turn white. The name hangs in the air like a guillotine blade—De Belladonna. It slices through the memory of the boy she thought she knew, the man she let inside her body and heart. Lorenzo. A De Belladonna. The realization hits her gut with the force of a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs. He hadn’t just omitted the truth; he had constructed an entire reality of lies, brick by lying brick, while she poured her soul out to him. The resemblance is undeniable now that she looks—the sharp, aristocratic jawline, the cold, obsidian eyes, the way they hold themselves with an innate sense of ownership. They are brothers. The thought makes her skin crawl. Dante and Lorenzo, bound by blood and deceit. She feels sick, a wave of nausea rolling through her stomach as th

Chapter 53: You left me

Dante's pov Dante stands frozen in the doorway his eyes locked on a scene that makes his blood boil so hot he feels like he might explode. Right there in the center of the Persian rug, his brother Lorenzo has his hands all over Danika. Not just a polite touch, but a possessive, filthy grip. Lorenzo’s large hand is cupping Danika’s ass, his fingers digging deep into the soft flesh through her dress, pulling her hips flush against his own. Dante can see the way Lorenzo’s thumb is rubbing dangerously close to the crease of her thigh, a motion that screams intimacy and ownership. Dante’s fists clench at his sides, his knuckles turning white as the urge to rush over and smash his brother’s face in surges through him. He wants to tear Lorenzo’s hands off her, to pummel him until he bleeds for daring to touch the woman Dante has been fucking senseless for months. The rage is a living thing inside him, a beast clawing at his throat. But then, a cold, calculated thought slithers into his

All Chapters of One Night with the Mafia king... My Ex's Younger brother: Chapter 51 - Chapter 55

Chapter 49: Lorenzo

Chapter 50 ~ The private meeting

Chapter 51: Echoes of obsidian

Chapter 52: Shattered Masquerade

Chapter 53: You left me