All Chapters of The ice reaper and His blonde obsession : Chapter 141 - Chapter 145

HORACE I watched Azriel stride through the grand entrance with that familiar composure. Mother walked past me but not before giving me a warm smile then she followed close behind him. I can't imagine how much trauma might be going through her mind. But that's the thing about my mum. She was too good at faking. But I remember clearly. I remember everything from the last time we were all stuck in this hellhole together. I lingered back on the wide stone steps, not exactly stopping, just walking a little slower until Valentina caught up. I had no idea why I didn't want to walk into that building without her by my side. I ignored the feeling still.When she reached me, she entwined her fingers with mine without hesitation. It took everything in me not to grip her hand tighter, to pull her flush against my side and shield her from all the eyes I could already feel watching us like hawks. Her touch felt good. Even as my instincts screamed to turn around and leave this place far behin

VALENTINA That evening, the whole family came down for dinner like it was some grand event. The dining hall glowed under the chandeliers, long tables set with silverware while servants moved around quietly, filling glasses and bringing out plates of roasted meats, fresh breads, and sides that smelled amazing. I sat next to Horace, as the conversations flowed around us. Mostly polite, but I felt the isolation mostly directed towards Irene and me.After dinner, things split and I guessed it had to be old reunion rules or something. The men headed off to watch a fight.Horace gave my hand a quick squeeze before he left, his eyes promising he’d be back soon. The ladies gathered in a big sitting room with plush couches arranged in a half circle.I sat on one end of the biggest couch, trying to blend in. Which was practically impossible. Tiffany was busy sucking up to the girl from earlier. Imogen I think and her mom, Millicent. She laughed a little too loud at their stories, complime

MATTEOThe bass from the club downstairs pulsed through the floor like the dying heartbeat of some massive, wounded beast trapped beneath the earth. It vibrated up through the chassis of my blacked out SUV, rattling the half empty bottle of whiskey that rested on the leather seat beside me. The liquid inside sloshed gently with every thump and somehow I found it the most interesting part of being slumped low in the driver’s seat, one hand loosely wrapped around the crystal glass. The ice had long since melted, turning the whiskey dull. More like the numbness spreading through my veins.Crashed out. That’s what the guys would have called it if any of them had dared to peek inside the tinted windows. They’d smirk, slap each other on the back, and mutter something about the boss needing to blow off steam after a long night of handling family business. Heartbroken, though... that word felt too fucking pathetic for a man like me. Don Matteo didn’t do heartbreak. I am a Don for fucki