All Chapters of The Mafia Who Bought Me : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Sleep never came. I tried.After Dante left the sitting room, I stayed there for a long time staring at the fire until the flames burned low and the room cooled. Eventually one of the staff quietly guided me back to my bedroom, but the moment I lay down, my mind started replaying everything again.The gunfire. The shouting. The smell of smoke.And Dante's voice telling me to stay close.I tossed onto my side, then my back again. The silk sheets felt too cold, too smooth. The mansion itself had fallen quiet hours ago, but the silence only made my thoughts louder.At some point I must have drifted into a shallow sleep.A knock at my door woke me. It was soft..Controlled.Not urgent. I blinked at the dim light coming through the curtains. Morning had already arrived, pale sunlight spilling into the room."Come in," I called, my voice still rough with sleep.The door opened slowly.Dante stepped inside. For a moment, I just stared at him.He looked exactly the same as he had the night bef

The hallway felt colder the moment Dante stepped into it. I followed him before I could stop myself. "Elena," he said sharply without turning, "I told you to stay inside." "And I told you yesterday I'm stubborn." That earned me a brief glance over his shoulder—dark eyes, unreadable. Then he continued walking. Two guards stood at the far end of the corridor, exactly where I had heard the voices moments ago. The moment they saw Dante approaching, both men straightened instantly. Respect. Fear. A mix of both. "Boss," one of them said. Dante stopped a few feet away, his posture relaxed but somehow dangerous at the same time. "What shipment were you discussing?" The two guards exchanged a quick glance. Too quick and my stomach tightened. "Just supplies for the east wing renovation," one of them answered. His voice sounded steady enough. But his hands were clenched. And Dante noticed, of course he noticed, he always noticed everything. "Interesting," Dante said calmly.

The mansion felt different that night. Not louder. Not busier. But just… tense like the walls themselves were listening. After the visitor left, Dante disappeared into his office with Luca and Marco. I hadn't been invited, which was probably a good thing considering the way Dante's mood had shifted. Something about that man's words had struck a nerve. Protect her carefully… If your enemies realize what she is… I didn't even know what that meant. And apparently, Dante wasn't ready to explain. So I did the only thing I could do. I wandered. Not aimlessly exactly—but close enough. The halls of the mansion were quieter now, the night staff moving softly between rooms while guards rotated through their posts. Every corner seemed watched. Every door seemed locked. Dante's world was a fortress. And tonight it felt more like a prison. I was walking past the indoor courtyard when a voice stopped me. "You walk like prey." I turned sharply. Dante stood behind me. I h

Sleep doesn't come easily that night. Even after I return to my room, Dante's words echo in my head. If anything happens to her… I won't forgive myself. I lie on my back staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation I overheard in the hallway. Part of me feels guilty for listening. The other part can't stop thinking about what it means. Dante cares. That realization should make me feel safer. Instead, it makes me feel exposed. Because in Dante's world, caring about someone is a weakness enemies can use. And I have a bad feeling his enemies are already watching. After what feels like hours, I finally give up on sleep. The mansion is quiet as I slip out of my room. Most of the lights are dimmed now, leaving long shadows stretching across the marble floors. I walk slowly down the hallway, wrapping my arms around myself. Maybe some water will help clear my head. Or maybe I just don't want to be alone with my thoughts. As I reach the main staircase, I hear voices. Low and u

I step back instinctively, though not out of fear—well, maybe partly fear but more because I feel the weight of what he just said. His gaze pins me in place, intense and unwavering, and for a moment, I realize how completely I am under his control, not just physically, but in every thought I have. "You… mean it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Dante doesn't move. He simply tilts his head, letting the silence answer for him. His eyes bore into mine, sharp and cold, yet somehow there's a flicker of something else—protection, a dangerous kind of care. "Yes," he says finally, his tone softening ever so slightly. "No one hurts you in my world." The words are like fire and ice all at once. Fire because they burn with the intensity of his authority, ice because they send a chill straight down my spine. I wanted to argue, to say I can handle myself, but the truth is undeniable. I can't. Not against him, not in this world, not anywhere near his enemies. "You're terrifying," I adm