Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Mafia King Dies Every Time He Kisses Me: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

“History never dies.It waits… until the next generation is forced to pay its debts.”⸻Rain poured relentlessly over the mountains.Thunder rolled across Lake Como, shaking the ancient stone walls of the monastery that had become Adrian Moretti’s sanctuary.Seraphina stood motionless beneath the arched balcony.The old photograph trembled slightly between her fingers.Three smiling faces.Three people whose lives had once been inseparable.Her mother.Don Vittorio De Luca.Adrian Moretti.They looked too happy.Too normal.Nothing about the picture resembled the bloody world she had married into.She looked at Adrian, her emerald eyes filled with questions.“My mother knew your family…”Adrian nodded.“Long before the De Lucas and Rossis became enemies.”“And my father?”“He knew everything.”The answer struck harder than she expected.“So…”“My entire life has been built on lies?”Adrian’s voice softened.“No.”“On half-truths.”“They’re far more dangerous.”⸻Miles away…The convoy

“Some enemies seek revenge.Others become revenge.”⸻The gunshot still echoed through the monastery.Smoke drifted from the sniper’s rifle.For a heartbeat…No one moved.No one breathed.Seraphina collapsed into Alessio’s arms, her fingers clutching the front of his rain-soaked coat.Warm blood seeped between his hands.It wasn’t a fatal wound.Not yet.But it was enough to paint the marble floor crimson.“Seraphina.”His voice was almost unrecognizable.Soft.Fractured.Human.Her eyelashes fluttered.She forced a faint smile despite the pain tearing through her side.“You…”She whispered weakly.“…look terrible when you worry.”A broken laugh escaped her lips before another wave of pain stole her breath.Alessio tightened his hold on her.“Don’t speak.”His forehead rested briefly against hers.“Not one more word.”⸻The monastery erupted into chaos.Matteo’s men opened fire toward the upper gallery.Bullets shattered stained-glass windows.Colored fragments rained across the anci

“The world feared Alessio De Luca because he ruled an empire.His enemies feared him because they had never seen what happened when someone touched the woman he loved.”⸻Darkness swallowed the De Luca Estate.For one endless second…There was nothing.No lights.No voices.Only the distant rhythm of rain striking the windows.Then—Bang!A gunshot tore through the silence.Another followed.Then another.The emergency alarms roared to life, bathing the mansion in flashes of crimson light.Every corridor became a battlefield.⸻“Protect Mrs. De Luca!”Matteo’s command echoed through the medical wing.Within seconds, six elite guards surrounded Seraphina’s room, forming a human shield.The hospital doors slammed shut.Bulletproof steel barriers descended from the ceiling.The De Luca Estate had been built to survive war.Tonight…It finally would.⸻Alessio remained beside Seraphina’s bed.His pistol rested calmly in his hand.He didn’t flinch at the gunfire outside.His eyes never lef

“Some fathers leave behind fortunes.Mine left behind a confession.”⸻The room became impossibly still.Outside the tall windows, dawn painted the sky in shades of pale gold, but inside Vittorio De Luca’s private study, the air felt heavy enough to suffocate.Alessio stared at the letter in his hands.The familiar handwriting belonged to the man he had admired his entire life.The man who had taught him that mercy was expensive…And trust…Fatal.His fingers tightened around the worn paper before he forced himself to continue reading.⸻“Alessio,”“If these words have found you, then I have already failed.”“I prayed you would never have to open this letter.”“Because the day you do…””…will be the day history begins repeating itself.”⸻A long silence filled the office.Matteo and Lorenzo stood several feet away, neither daring to interrupt.Alessio continued.⸻“You have spent your entire life believing that I defeated Adrian Moretti.”“I did not.”“Neither of us won.”“We both los

“The cruelest funerals are not held in cemeteries.They are held inside the memories of those forced to forget.”⸻The music box remained unopened.No one dared touch it.The elderly housekeeper—Maria—stood in the middle of Vittorio De Luca’s study, her wrinkled hands trembling so violently that Matteo instinctively stepped forward to steady her.Alessio lifted his hand.“No.”His voice was calm.“Let her speak.”Maria nodded gratefully.She had served four generations of the De Luca family.She had witnessed births.Weddings.Wars.Funerals.But the story she had buried inside her heart…Had haunted her for twenty-three years.⸻“There were three brothers.”Her voice cracked.“Leonardo…”“Alessio…”“And Lucien.”Silence settled over the room.Even Lorenzo stopped writing.Maria slowly looked toward the old family portrait hanging above the fireplace.“You were only six.”“Lucien had just been born.”“And Leonardo…”A faint smile appeared through her tears.“…was the kindest child I h