All Chapters of One Year with the Mafia Boss: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

JaydonI stirred in my sleep, my lips parting slightly as my eyelids fluttered open. Darkness surrounded me, thick and unyielding. For a moment, I lay there, disoriented, my mind struggling to catch up with where I was. My hand instinctively reached out toward the nightstand, fumbling in the void for the lamp switch. But my fingers brushed nothing but empty air. Confusion washed over me. Where was the nightstand? Where was the lamp? My heart skipped a beat as the realization hit me like a splash of cold water. I was not at home. I was not in my own bed. The memories came rushing back in fragments—Italy, the Academia Hotel, the long flight, the exhaustion. I sat up quickly, the sheets tangling around my legs as I scanned the room. My phone. I needed my phone. I patted the bed beside me, my fingers searching for the familiar rectangular shape. When I found it, I tapped the screen to check the time. The bright display glared back at me: 6:00 p.m. My eyes widened. Six o’clock? I had be

IsayannaI wake up with a heavy sigh, my body aching in ways I cannot immediately explain. Every muscle feels tender, every movement sending a dull throb through my limbs. My mind is foggy, still clinging to the remnants of sleep, but something feels… off. I shift slightly on the bed, the sheets cool against my skin, and my hand instinctively reaches out to the space beside me. It is empty. And then it hits me. Memories come flooding back in a rush, vivid and unrelenting. My eyes widen as the events of last night replay in my mind like a film on fast-forward. The heat, the passion, the way my body had moved in sync with his. My breath catches in my throat as I realize what I have done. I had sex. With Jaydon. Not Romeo. Here in Verona. The weight of the realization crashes over me, and I sit up abruptly, clutching the comforter to my chest. My heart pounds as I glance around the room, taking in the disarray. My clothes are neatly folded on a chair by the window, but I am comple

Isayanna My jaw drops. Not at the venomous tone of his voice, but at the words themselves. They hit me like a slap, sharp and unexpected. My mind races, trying to make sense of what he just said. Does he know Jaydon? How could he? He does not even know who Jaydon is, not really. So why is he talking like this? Why is he acting as though he has any right to judge him, to judge us?I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I know it might take a long time for Jaydon to fall in love with me. I am not naive. But what matters is that he is willing to try. He wants to give us a chance, and that is enough for me. It has to be. I am a patient person. I can wait. I can wait until he is ready to open up, to let me in, to embrace me not just as his wife but as his partner. We are married, after all. That means something. All I need to do is love him, make him happy, and always be there for him. That is what I promised myself I would do.“How about you?” Romeo’s voice cuts through my thoug

Isayanna The moment the door swings open, I don’t even think. My body moves on its own, propelled by the storm of emotions raging inside me. I throw myself into her arms, my face buried in her shoulder, and the tears come pouring out like a dam has broken. My sobs are loud, messy, and uncontrollable, the kind that shake your entire body and leave you gasping for air. My arms clutch her tightly, as if holding on to her will somehow make the pain go away, as if I can squeeze all the hurt and regret out of my chest and into hers.The tears aren’t just tears—they’re a flood of everything I’ve been holding back. I feel so stupid. So, so stupid. How could I have been so blind? How could I not have seen the signs? Jaydon’s sudden change in behavior, the way he went from sweet and attentive to distant and cold overnight—it should have been a red flag. Romeo had warned me. He’d told me Jaydon wasn’t trustworthy, that something was off about him. But I didn’t listen. I called Romeo selfish, ac

Isayanna Grandma, much like me, has always been a naturally curious person. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about her—the way she can’t help but ask questions, dig deeper, and unravel the mysteries of life. But this past week, she’s surprised me. She hasn’t asked me a single thing about why I’ve been holed up in this room, barely speaking, barely eating, barely living. I’ve been confined here for seven days, and not once has she pried. I appreciate that more than I can say. Maybe she knows I’m not ready to talk. Maybe she’s waiting for me to come to her. Either way, her silence has been a small comfort in the middle of this mess.For seven days, I’ve done nothing but stare out the window, waiting. Waiting for Jaydon’s car to pull into the driveway. Waiting for him to show up at the door, to explain himself, to apologize, to do something. But he hasn’t. Not a single call, not a single text, not a single glimpse of him. It’s like he’s vanished from my life as quickly as he e