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Home / Mafia / Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don / Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

All Chapters of Contracted to My Fiance’s Mafia Don: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

77 Chapters

41

Elara I had been sitting in that velvet chair for what felt like hours. Maybe it had only been minutes. I had stopped being able to tell. The gun sat heavy across my lap, my hands wrapped around it, my breathing the loudest sound in the room. Vincent's words kept circling through my head, over and over, no matter how hard I tried to push them away. There was no answer to that question. There couldn't be. I searched for some third option, some way out that didn't end with losing one of them, and I couldn't find it. ‘Maybe there isn't one.’ ‘Maybe this is just how it ends.’ ‘With an impossible choice that no one should ever have to make.’ The door opened. I raised the gun instantly, both hands shaking, finger near the trigger. David stepped into the room, hands already raised. "Elara—" "Don't come any closer." He stopped immediately. His face was pale, and there was blood on his shirt that I didn't think was his. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "I'm here to help." "Ho

42

Vivian The room was cold. I sat on the floor with my back against the wall, my wrists tied in front of me. They had taken my knife, my phone, my shoes, even my jacket. All I had left was a mesh top and leather pants, which felt like a cruel joke considering everything else happening tonight. ‘This is how it ends,’ I thought. In some basement I've never seen, dressed for a club I'll never get back to. Because I wanted to be a hero for once. The door opened and Marcus stepped inside. "Vivian." "Marcus. Fancy meeting you here." He crouched beside me and started working at the rope around my wrists, his fingers fast and sure. "How did you find me?" "I've been tracking Vincent's men for almost an hour. This is the third basement I've checked tonight." The rope gave way. "Can you stand?" "I can try." I pushed myself up. My legs were stiff and shaky, but they held. Marcus caught my arm anyway, steadying me. "Where's Elara?" "With Alexander. They're trying to get out, but Vincent

43

Alexander The bullet slammed into my shoulder and knocked me to the ground. Pain ripped through me so fast that for a second I couldn’t make sense of what had happened. The night sky spun above me, and my shoulder and chest burned as if every wound Vincent’s men had already given me had come alive at once. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and could only lie there while blood soaked through my shirt. Not again. Not now. Not when Elara needed me. “Alexander!” Her voice cut through the ringing in my ears, and then she was beside me, her hands framing my face. “Alexander, look at me. Stay with me. Please stay with me.” I tried to answer her, but nothing came out. The pain was too much, and my mouth wouldn’t form the words. Footsteps sounded behind her, and Vincent’s voice followed. “Touching. Really touching. I almost feel bad interrupting.” My blood ran cold. I forced my eyes open and saw him standing over us with his gun still in his hand. Elara shifted closer, shielding me wi

44

Elara I woke up to sunlight streaming through a window I didn’t recognize. For a few seconds I didn’t know where I was. The room was quiet, with white walls, a narrow hospital bed, and a small table beside me. Mountains stretched beyond the window, unfamiliar and still. Then everything came rushing back—Vincent, the garden, the gunshots, Alexander collapsing into my arms, the baby, the hospital. We had survived. I turned my head slowly, and found Alexander awake, his gray eyes already on me. For a moment neither of us spoke. I studied the bandages across his chest, the sling supporting his shoulder, and the exhaustion etched into his face. Most of all, I stared because he was alive. “Hi,” I said quietly. The corner of his mouth lifted. “Hi.” My throat tightened. “You scared me.” His smile faded slightly. “I scared myself.” I swallowed hard. For three days I had sat beside his bed, listening to machines and doctors and nurses, terrified that he wouldn’t open his

45

ElaraThe words hung in the air, and for a moment I genuinely could not process what Marcus had just told me."Vivian," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "You're telling me Vivian is leading Vincent's men now."I waited for him to laugh, to tell me he'd misread a message, to say there had been some mistake. Instead, his expression stayed grim, and his jaw remained tight, and I understood that this was not a joke at all."That's not possible," I said, shaking my head. "Vivian would never do something like that. Not to me, and not to Alexander.""She's been missing since the garden, and for the past three days we assumed she had either been captured or killed. Instead, it turns out she's been quietly meeting with Vincent's surviving lieutenants and consolidating what's left of his organization under her own name." Marcus delivered this in the same flat, controlled tone he used for everything difficult. "She has been making deals, Elara. Real ones, with real consequences.""De

46

Elara The diner was exactly the kind of place Marcus would choose for something like this. Neutral ground, he had called it on the drive over. Public enough that any kind of violence would be immediately noticed. Controlled enough that his men could watch every entrance and exit without attracting attention. I sat in a booth near the back with my hands wrapped around a cup of coffee I hadn't touched, and I waited for my best friend to walk through the door. Alexander was across the street in an SUV with Marcus beside him and two full cars of armed men positioned at either end of the block. He had pushed hard against this arrangement, arguing that he should be in the booth beside me, close enough to act if anything went wrong. I had refused, and he had eventually accepted it, though not without a long and heavy silence that told me exactly how he felt about my decision. If Vivian was going to tell me the truth, she needed to see me sitting here alone. She needed to understand tha

47

Alexander I stood in the parking lot and watched her drive away. The car disappeared past the gate, and the sound of the engine faded into the night. I kept my eyes on the road long after she was gone, as if staring hard enough could pull her back. She left. She knew. She hated me. I should have told her the truth from the beginning. I should have taken the risk and given her the facts before she could hear them from someone else. Instead, I had protected myself, and in doing that, I had pushed her straight into pain. You lied to her again. You promised her honesty, and you gave her another lie. Marcus stepped up beside me, but I did not turn to him. “Boss,” he said carefully. “We should get you inside.” “Let her go.” He hesitated. “Alexander—” “I said let her go.” Silence followed, heavy and impatient. Then Marcus said, “You’re bleeding.” I looked down at my shoulder. The bandage had darkened through the fabric of my shirt, and the wound Vincent had given me was see

48

Elara The apartment was dark when I got home, but the quiet did not feel comforting. It felt heavy, crowded, and full of everything I had spent the last few hours trying not to think about. I sat on the living room floor with my back against the couch and my phone in my hands, staring at Vivian’s message until the words stopped looking real. *The test was doctored. The baby is Alexander’s.* I had read it so many times that I had started to hate the sentence. I hated the hope it created. I hated the fear that came with it. I hated that my life had turned into a place where truth and lies could wear the same face. Vivian had lied to me before. She had held things back, changed details, and made choices without asking me. Now she wanted me to believe her again. She said she was leading the Moretti family. She said she had the real report. She said the baby was Alexander’s. But Alexander had lied too. He had known about the paternity test and kept it from me. He had watched me gri

49

Elara We spent the night together, but not in my apartment. Alexander said it was too easy a place to find us, too exposed, too familiar for men who already knew where to look. He took me to one of his hotels at the edge of the city, a place that looked beautiful from the outside and felt heavily guarded the moment I stepped inside. I did not argue. I was too tired to fight, and too raw to pretend I was fine. The room was quiet. The curtains were drawn. The lights were low. Alexander stood near the window for a long time before he finally came to sit beside me on the bed. I watched him carefully. Even after everything he had told me, I still found myself looking for the next lie, the next hidden detail, the next thing that would hurt me later. He noticed. “You still do not trust me,” he said. I rested my back against the headboard and folded my arms loosely over my chest. “I do not trust anyone.” “That is fair,” he replied. “I have not given you a reason to.” I stud

50

Alexander I woke up in a hospital bed. The room looked painfully familiar, down to the dull white walls, the steady beeping of the machines, and the clean antiseptic scent that always made me feel more exposed than healed. For a moment, I did not move. I only stared at the ceiling and let the fact of my own survival settle in. I had survived again. I turned my head slowly, and the sight beside me hit harder than the pain in my body. Elara was sitting in the chair beside my bed. Her fingers were wrapped around mine, and her eyes were red, swollen, and tired. She looked as though she had not slept properly in days. Her face changed the moment she saw my eyes open. “You’re awake,” she said. “Apparently.” Her mouth trembled, but her expression stayed firm. “Do not ever do that again.” “Do what?” “Get shot,” she said. “Do not get shot saving me, and do not make me sit here wondering whether you are going to die.” “I did not die.” “You almost did.” I tightened my fingers aro

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