All Chapters of Married to the ruthless Billionaire Mafia: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

69 Chapters

Don't lose sight of the end, Dante

Rose slammed her door shut and pressed her back against it, chest heaving. Her palms were clammy, her skin cold despite the heat that still clung to the air outside.She had seen blood before…nosebleeds when her dorm fell off from her bed, a cut on her father’s hand when he smashed a glass. But never like this. Not on a man’s shirt. Not thick, dark, soaking into white cotton like something he wore with ease.She shoved herself away from the door, pacing across the room, then back again. Her legs trembled beneath her. “Monster,” she whispered again, as if saying it aloud might put a barrier between her and what she had seen.But the image wouldn’t leave. Dante standing there, broad-shouldered, stained in red as though it belonged to him. Her stomach turned. She pressed a hand over her mouth, fighting down bile.This was the life they wanted for her. To sit at that table, to smile while blood dripped from men’s hands, to bear children for

At least she's not afraid to speak

The garden was manicured within an inch of perfection, the hedges were trimmed so neatly they looked carved, roses spilling their fragrance into the late morning air.Rose followed the maid’s quiet lead through the open archway. Her silk dress clung too tightly in the heat, her hair pinned with more care than she’d ever wanted. She thought herself prepared, but the moment she stepped into the garden the sound shifted. The women who had been laughing fell quiet one by one, their voices tapering into silence as their eyes slid toward her.Her legs felt hollow, trembling beneath their stares. She forced herself forward, chin lifted though her stomach knotted. The women’s jewels caught the sunlight, their gowns were immaculate, they watched her like a curiosity on display.Her stomach tightened as she caught the ripple of whispers, the low murmur of Italian words she couldn’t quite string together, though she knew well enough they were about her.

Nothing is given freely

From the balcony above, Dante had watched the exchange unfold. His hands were buried in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the garden below where Rose stood surrounded by women who wanted her to bend.He had half expected her to stumble, to let the silence crush her, but instead she bared her teeth. Not literally, but with words sharp enough to cut. She didn’t flinch, didn’t cower, even when they circled her like wolves.A small smile tugged at his mouth. A wild cat, that’s what she was. Villa Corona Nera had been built to break the weak, to remind outsiders of their place. Yet she had stood her ground. She had survived it.But survival was not victory, and Dante knew the difference. The wives would not forget her defiance. Neither would their husbands.He left the balcony and made his way back inside, the heavy doors shutting out the garden’s murmurs. His expression hardened as he stepped into the main hall where the men were gathered. The

She's off limit

The courtyard smelled of hay and warm leather, the faint clatter of hooves echoing against stone as stable boys moved about their work. From the balcony above, Dante stood with his hands knotted tight inside his pockets, watching.Rose was down there, beside Luca’s stallion. They stood too close. Her pale hand brushed against the glossy flank as Luca leaned in, speaking low, his expression infuriatingly casual. She tilted her head toward him, listening, and then… Dante saw it. The faintest curve of her lips, a smile she hadn’t given him once since she arrived in his house.His jaw clenched until it ached. Of all people in this cursed villa, it had to be Luca. Luca, with his slick tongue and his easy charm. Luca, who waited for cracks in the stone and slid his way in like water.Dante’s chest burned. He drew in a slow breath, steady but shallow, as if that alone would stop the rising anger. Rose had never smiled at him…never anything but defiance,

Welcome Mrs Moretti

The atrium was thick with the scent of cigars and polished wood, the air heavy with the kind of talk that only men of their world shared. Around the long table, maps were spread, figures scribbled, and the low hum of voices rose and fell with business. It was never simply about money; it was about power, territory, and the loyalty that held everything together.Dante sat back in his chair, listening, his expression still as stone. His black shirt clung to his frame, sleeves rolled just enough to show the watch at his wrist. The discussion had circled for nearly an hour before Vittorio’s voice cut sharper than the rest.“There are threats in Nevada,” Vittorio said, his hand tapping a slow rhythm on the table. “The casinos, the clubs, the fronts… we cannot afford to leave them unguarded. Dante, you will go. Oversee the legal contracts. Make sure our position stands.”Dante gave a slight nod. “Done.”Vittorio leaned back, satisfied, until he added, “

We've a big day tomorrow

Rose woke with the kind of heaviness that clung after restless hours. The clock on the nightstand read past eight. She had slept late, they had arrived in Vegas closer to one in the morning and even after the flight, most of her time on the jet had been spent wide-eyed, wondering where Dante was taking her.She was delighted to go to the shower for the first time in a long while, there were no hands tugging her hair or fastening her clothes like back in Italy. Here, she moved at her own pace. She wrapped herself in a robe, towel-dried her hair, and for the first time in weeks felt like a woman rather than a doll being propped up for display.When she stepped into the hall, a staff member approached, hands folded neatly in front of her. “Mr. Moretti had to leave for a few errands, signora,” she said. “He will return later in the day. He asked me to tell you that you may explore the penthouse if you wish. The guards will accompany you.”R

You're not a prisoner. You're my wife

Rose woke early, though her sleep had been restless. Every time she drifted off, his words replayed in her mind. That dress… it’s nice on you.It was nothing, she told herself as she sat before the mirror, brushing her hair with slow strokes. Just words. A man like Dante didn’t offer compliments; he didn’t hand out softness. Still, the memory clung to her like perfume, impossible to wash away.When she entered the dining room, he was already there. Black shirt, cufflinks glinting in the light, posture as unreadable as stone. He looked up briefly, then returned to the documents spread across the table as if nothing from the night before had ever happened.“Good morning,” she said carefully.“Morning.” His reply was clipped, neutral, his eyes still fixed on the page in front of him.Rose sat opposite, a plate of fruit and pastries placed neatly at her side. She picked at a strawberry, waiting for something more. When not

Do you enjoy testing me?

Dante closed the door to his suite, loosened his tie and set his phone on the desk. The glow of the city seeped through the tall windows, neon lights pulsing against the glass.He replayed the call from earlier in his mind, every clipped word, every coded phrase. The lawyers had confirmed the casino contracts were still airtight, the paperwork clean enough to withstand scrutiny should anyone look too closely. That was one problem handled.But the soldiers in Nevada were another matter. A few had grown restless, and suspicious. It seemed like some soldiers were giving information to the enemy. Dante didn’t trust them. A single defection could turn Las Vegas from safe ground into a trap.That was why Rose could not leave the suite tomorrow. The city was too exposed, too many eyes watching, too many chances for her to stumble into danger without even knowing it. She thought it was about control, about him deciding what she could or could n

She stays with me

The car glided off the Strip and into the quieter grounds of the Palms, its mirrored towers catching the glow of the city. Rose expected a hotel suite, maybe just higher walls and thicker glass. But when the elevator doors opened, she froze.The lion’s head was embossed in brass on the door, glared back at her. She didn’t need anyone to explain. That crest had been stamped into every corner of Villa Corona Nera. This was Moretti property. This was his.Her chest tightened as the door opened and she stepped inside.The penthouse was vast. Wide panes of glass stretched floor to ceiling, turning the skyline of Las Vegas into a private painting. A pool glowed in the center of the terrace, the water reflecting the city’s restless neon. The walls gleamed with stone and steel, softened by velvet furniture that looked untouched.She turned slowly, her voice leaving her before she could swallow it. “How rich are you?”Dante was

You look good in green

The knock at her door came just after breakfast. Rose opened it to find two women from the staff carrying a garment bag and a slim box. They moved with quiet efficiency, hanging the dress in her wardrobe and setting the box on the bed. When they left, she unzipped the bag and froze.It was a gown. Deep green silk, simple but devastating in its elegance, the kind of dress meant for cameras. Beneath it lay a pair of delicate heels and a small velvet case that revealed emerald earrings.By the time she slipped into the dress and pinned her hair, even she had to admit she looked… transformed. She was no longer the mafia wife shut away in a penthouse. No longer the girl pretending she didn’t care what Dante thought. For a moment, she looked like she belonged in his world.The door opened without a knock. Dante stepped inside, mid-sentence as if ready to issue another order, but stopped dead. His gaze swept over her, lingering for a

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