All Chapters of One Year with the Mafia Boss: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Jaydon Grandma did not even wait five minutes before racing back out of the building. I rushed out of the car to open the vehicle door for her, my heart pounding in my chest. The moment I saw her, I noticed the tears glistening in her eyes. She was trying to hide them by bowing her head, but I could see the way her shoulders trembled slightly, the way her hands clenched into fists at her sides. My stomach twisted into knots, and I wanted to ask her what had happened, but I held back. I knew Isayanna needed to see her grandmother first. This was not about me.My body reacted strongly when I saw Isayanna again. It had been months since I last laid eyes on her, and the sight of her leaving the bookshop with her large belly made my chest tighten with a mix of emotions. Happiness, guilt, longing—it all swirled together until I felt like I could not breathe. An unconscious smile sprang to my face, but it was fleeting, replaced by a deep ache in my chest. She looked so serene, so beautiful,

Isayanna When I hear a knock on the door, my heart jumps. I scramble out of bed, my feet tangling in the sheets for a moment before I kick them free. The sound is sharp and unexpected, cutting through the quiet of the apartment. I hurry to the door, my pulse racing. It must be Grandma. She cannot stay mad at me forever, can she? I have been waiting for days, wondering where she has been staying in Paris, wondering if she will ever come back so we can talk. Really talk.The last time I saw her, we both cried. Sobbed, really. It was messy and raw, and then she left without another word. I have been replaying that moment in my head ever since, trying to figure out what I could have said differently, what I could have done to make her stay. But she walked out, and I let her. Now, I just want her to come back so I can explain myself. So I can tell her why I did what I did. It was not for no reason. I had a good reason. At least, I thought I did.I reach the door and grab the doorknob, twi

Isayanna I watch his car speed away, the taillights fading into the distance like two red embers swallowed by the night. Sabrina stands beside me, her mouth opening as if to point it out, but I already know. I saw it. Jaydon’s car. His unmistakable black sedan, sleek and silent, disappearing down the road. My chest tightens, and I force myself to look away, pretending I did not notice. Pretending I do not care.Grandma and I had been sitting in the living room earlier, the air thick with unspoken words. She was rambling about something—probably Jaydon or the estate—but I was only half-listening. My mind was elsewhere, tangled in a web of thoughts I did not want to unravel. Then the doorbell rang, sharp and insistent, cutting through the quiet like a knife. Safina, our usual gatekeeper, was nowhere to be found, so the task of answering fell to me.I hesitated. My first thought was Jaydon. Of course, it was Jaydon. Who else would show up unannounced at this hour? My stomach churned at

IsayannaBefore the tears pooling in my eyes can spill over, the sharp chime of the doorbell cuts through the heavy silence. My head snaps toward the door, the same door Jaydon had walked out of just minutes ago. My chest tightens, and I swallow hard, trying to push down the lump forming in my throat. I cannot believe I actually stood up to him like that. For years, I had promised myself I would never let him see me cry, never let him know how much his words could cut me to the core. Yet here I am, standing in the middle of the living room, my vision blurred and my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might break through my ribs. Why does it feel like the entire world is on his side? Why does everyone seem to think his pain is more valid than mine? Yes, he was traumatized by the accident—I get that. But so was I. I went through hell too, and I did it alone. No one held my hand or whispered comforting words in my ear. I picked myself up, piece by broken piece, and kept moving forw

Isayanna Pretending has never been easy for me. It is not something that comes naturally, not something I have ever been good at. But Jaydon taught me how to pretend. He taught me how to fake it, how to mask my feelings, how to bury everything deep inside until it felt like I was someone else entirely. He showed me how to act like I do not feel anything for him anymore. But I do. Yes, I still do. And yet, I rejected him. I said no as he knelt on the floor, holding a diamond ring in his trembling hands, promising me forever. It was not because I do not love him. I do. I love him so much it hurts, so much it feels like my chest might split open sometimes. But I turned him down because I still have doubts. I refused him because I need time—time to figure out if this is real, if this is true, if this is something that will last. I need to know if his feelings for me will change, if they will fade, if they will disappear like they did before. The first time, I made the mistake of r