All Chapters of Married to the ruthless Billionaire Mafia: Chapter 61 - Chapter 69

Later that night. Luca pushed open the door to Bianca’s wing, slipping inside like it was already his. She stood by the vanity, unpinning her hair. The candlelight threw gold across her skin, her gown loosened at the shoulders. He came up behind her without a word, pressing a kiss to her neck, his hands sliding around her waist.Bianca stiffened. Instead of melting into him, she shoved his hands away and spun, fury flashing in her eyes.“Get out.”Luca froze, surprised. “What?” He reached for her again, but she slapped his hand aside.“You heard me,” she snapped. “Leave.”He stared at her, confusion sharp in his face. “Bianca, what’s this?”Her laugh was harsh, humorless. “What’s this? What’s this?” She jabbed a finger toward his chest. “Don’t you dare stand there pretending you don’t know. This evening. In the courtyard. In front of that—” Her lip curled. “—that foreign whore.”It clicked, and Luca’s expressio

The courtyard emptied slowly, the soldiers dragging Sofia’s body away while servants hurried to scrub the stones. Rose’s stomach lurched at the sight, but she forced herself to stand still, to walk when the women were dismissed back into the house. Her legs felt like they didn’t belong to her, heavy and hollow all at once.Back in her chamber, the door shut softly behind her. The silence pressed down. She clutched the edge of the dresser with both hands, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face looked pale, bloodless.Sofia’s eyes haunted her… the pleading, the terror, the trust. Donna Rosa, please, you know me.Rose pressed a fist to her mouth, the sob tearing free before she could stop it. She sank onto the stool before the vanity. Tears blurred her vision until she couldn’t see anything but the smear of her own reflection.“She was only a girl,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Just a girl.”The memory of the gunshot c

The cathedral smelled of incense and candle wax, the vaulted ceilings echoing every hymn. Rows of black-suited men filled the pews, their families seated with them in a rigid order that spoke of rank and bloodlines. This was not just a wedding. It was a display of power.Bianca walked down the aisle radiant in white, her veil trailing like a river of silk. She carried herself like a queen, chin high, her smile unshaken even under the watchful gaze of the entire famiglia.At the altar, tradition unfolded. Before vows, she bowed to kiss Vittorio’s ring, her lips grazing the heavy gold band that commanded so much fear. He placed a hand on her cheek, pressed a grandfatherly kiss to her temple. To Rose, it had always felt like branding… an initiation into servitude. But Bianca accepted it as if it were a crown.Then she bent to Dante’s ring, her lips touching the symbol of his authority. Rose remembered her own wedding, the shame of lowering herself b

The weeks dragged by like a sentence.Rose woke each morning in the narrow bed of her servant’s room, stripped of the wing that once held her laughter. The walls pressed in. She went about her chores silently, swallowing every humiliation Bianca threw at her. Nights were worse… she couldn't sleep, her eyes would be wet with tears as she tried to muffle her pillow. She told herself the grief would dull. It didn’t. Dante was unraveling too. He kept his distance. His shoulders no longer carried their old strength; his eyes were rimmed in red, his glass too often filled with wine. He shut himself away when he could, and when he did appear, the silence clung to him like a second skin. He looked at no one, especially not Rose.Then the news came. Bianca’s pregnancy.The announcement was made at the long family table, Vittorio himself lifting a glass in pride. Cheers erupted. The Riccis had their heir. The Morettis glowed in triumph.

The world had been buzzing about it for days. #MorettiOpenHouse. #12HoursInsideCoronaNera. #MeetTheDynasty. Headlines and hashtags flooded every feed, reporters posted countdowns, influencers argued over who had been invited. The Morettis had never opened their doors before, and the promise of twelve full hours inside the most secretive dynasty in Italy had people restless with curiosity.The morning of the excursion, black cars ferried the chosen ones through the long, winding road that led to the Moretti estate. The mansion rose at the end like a vision… stone walls glowing pale in the sunlight, balconies dripping with vines, guards standing sharp in dark suits. The gates opened slowly and deliberately, as though even the air inside was too valuable to be rushed.Inside, Rose walked with the family. She wasn’t a maid today. Vittorio had insisted every member of the house look the part of nobility, and Bianca had been too busy shining