All Chapters of Married to the ruthless Billionaire Mafia: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The next morning in Vittorio’s study the smell of cigars and old books lingered in the air. Vittorio Moretti sat behind his desk, his sharp eyes fixed on Dante, who stood across from him. Signor Belini stood to the side with a worn leather book open in his hand. Dante had barely slept. He’d waited for the right time to speak, and when the Don finally sat down for his morning meeting, he didn’t hesitate. “Sit,” Vittorio said flatly, not looking up. Dante did. “I hope you’re not here to speak about the past days incident,” Vittorio said after a pause. “That day has wasted enough of my breath.” “No, Padre,” Dante replied. “I came to speak of what comes after.” That made Vittorio look up. “After?” “Yes.” Dante leaned forward, hands clasped. “Our family name has been dragged through the mud — by Luca and Bianca. The Riccis are humiliated, and everyone in our circle has

Sunlight slipped through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting soft gold across the penthouse suite. Rose woke to the smell of coffee. Dante was already dressed, shirt sleeves rolled, standing by the window with the morning paper in one hand and a cup in the other. “Good morning,” she said, voice still heavy with sleep. He turned, his expression easing. “Finally awake. I was starting to think I’d have to eat your share.” Her lips curved. “You wouldn’t dare.” He gestured to the table set near the balcony… croissants, berries, eggs, and two glasses of orange juice. It looked more like a hotel commercial than breakfast, but somehow still felt… warm. Rose slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in the white robe hanging by the chair, and joined him. “You ordered all this?” “Of course.” He poured her juice, as if it were the most natural thing. “You’ve been sleeping through breakfast si

Rose leaned on the balcony rail, the breeze moved her hair softly. Below, the traffic was like a river of gold.Dante stood behind her, his hands resting lightly on her waist. “You like it here?” he asked quietly.She smiled, eyes on the view. “I do. It feels… free. Like the world isn’t watching us.”He bent to kiss her shoulder. “Then we’ll come back. Whenever you want. Every year if that’s what it takes.”Rose turned to face him. “You promise?”Dante nodded. “I promise.”They went inside, leaving the glass doors open. The hotel room was warm and dim, the sheets already turned down. She sat on the bed while he poured them both a glass of wine. He handed her one and sat beside her, close enough that their knees touched.For a while they just sat there, sipping quietly. Then she said, “These two weeks felt like another life.”He smiled faintly. “Maybe it was. Just us. No family, no guards, no past.”Rose looked down at her wine. “I liked who I was here. With you.”He took the glass fr

The heavy scent of cigars lingered in the air, even though the ashtray was already crowded with the remains of several. Vittorio sat behind his desk, a handkerchief tucked discreetly in his palm. A faint smear of red stained it.Two doctors stood before him, one was the family doctor, another was in his forties, their posture was stiff as their hands were folded behind their backs. The third doctor stayed by the window, too nervous to speak.“Well?” Vittorio asked, his tone flat but dangerous. “You’ve had your tests. Your scans. Your blood samples. What’s the verdict now?”The lead doctor cleared his throat. “Signor Moretti, all results came back within normal range. There’s… no clear indication of infection, tumor, or organ damage.”Vittorio’s gaze sharpened. “You’re telling me I cough blood for pleasure?”“N–no, Signore,” the Family doctor stammered, sweat gathering at his temple. “It could be… stress-related. Or perhaps prolonged exposure to nicotine. If I may suggest… perhaps it

Enzo was already inside when Dante walked in. Papers and coded files were spread over the desk, and the faint smell of whiskey hung in the air. “The lawyer called,” Enzo said without looking up. “He has agreed. Full cover for future transactions, no paper trail. Said your offer was… generous.” Dante loosened his tie and sat, eyes on the documents. “Good. Make sure he stays comfortable. Send him another bottle of Barolo… from the family cellar, not the shelf.” Enzo nodded. “He’s loyal now. You’ve got the ports, and soon the accounts. You’re closing every leak before it even starts.” “Not every leak,” Dante murmured, gaze sharpening. “Vittorio’s already suspicious.” Enzo straightened. “You sure?” “He didn’t say it,” Dante replied. “But I saw it in his eyes. The pause before he spoke. The way he asked who I’ve been meeting. He’s too quiet and that’s never good.” Enzo exhaled slowly.