All Chapters of Forced bride of mafia king: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Lena’s POV I sit on the couch as Maria spreads fabric swatches across the coffee table and lines up three different vases like soldiers. “So the white roses for the center,” Maria says, tapping one vase. “And then maybe the peonies for the corners? I think Dante will like that.” I snort. “Dante doesn’t know the difference between a peony and a weed.” “Exactly,” Maria grins. “Which is why you should get the expensive ones. He’ll never know.” I’m about to answer when the front door opens. Maria and I both look up. Dante walks in and behind him is a boy. Thirteen, maybe fourteen. He has a duffel bag in his hand. My breath stops when I get a good look at his face. God. He’s the spitting image of Dante. A younger, smaller version of Dante. Same jaw, same eyes. How is that possible? My brain stutters. He looks exactly like him. “Morning,” Dante says. “Morning,” I say slowly. My eyes flick back to the boy.

Lena’s POV I sit on the bed in the guest room, my discarded dress lying like a rag on the floor. I’m in sweatpants and an old tee. My hair is all messed up and my eyes are red. I’m totally wrecked. I hear a knock on the door. It’s probably Maria. I pull a pillow over my face. “Go away, Maria,” I yell. I just need ten minutes to be mad, without anyone trying to fix me. She says nothing and then silence follows. A few minutes later I hear another knock. “Uhm... Lena? It’s Diego.” My stomach twists. “Maria sent me to check on you,” he continues through the door. God, I instantly feel like the worst person in the world. I just yelled at a grieving kid. I drag my hand down my face and get up. I make my way to the door on my bare feet and open it. He’s just standing there in joggers and a hoodie. He doesn’t look up, he's staring at his shoes like they’re fascinating. “Hey,” I say. “You didn’t have to come.” He shrugs. “She said I should.” “Well, Maria’s nosy.”

LENA’S POV "Get on all fours," he orders, and I obey instantly. I hate that I obey so fast. I push my ass up for him and feel him behind me, one big hand rubbing over my ass like he's deciding which part of me he wants to claim first. "Which hole should I use tonight, tesoro?" My whole body jerks. "Don't…" "Don't what? Don't make you choose?" His fingers slide down, teasing my entrance before sliding up to my clit. I buck into his hand. "Please," I hear myself say and I hate how desperate it sounds. "Dante, please. My pussy. Use my pussy." "Begging already?" He sounds amused. "Say it properly." "I need you in me. Please. Fuck me." He doesn't answer, he just lines himself up and slams into me in one brutal thrust. I scream. Even after all the time we’ve done this, he's always too much at first. He stretches me and fills every inch of me, and I have to ride through the burn to get to the good. "Shh," he says in my ear

DANTE’S POV My sweat is dripping down my face, and my lungs are burning. And all I can think about is how close Lena came to overhearing Diego and I this morning, like she was one sentence away from asking the question I’m not ready to answer yet. I need to be more careful. I push harder and take a few more laps around the estate. By the time I’m back inside, my shirt is stuck to me, and I’m trying to decide whether to shower or join them for breakfast. I decide to have breakfast first. As I enter the dining room, I’m caught off guard. The room is empty, despite the table already being set. Lena is usually downstairs the second she smells food. It takes her all but two seconds to gobble it all up. Strangely, she isn’t down yet. I frown and head upstairs. “tesoro?” But I get no answer. I reach our bedroom door and push in, only to find her curled up on the floor. She has a robe wrapped around her and her hair is wet, probably from a shower. As I move closer, my ey

LENA’S POV The air in the study is thick. Dante and I just stand there, staring at each other. His jaw is clenched, and his hands are fisted at his sides like he’s holding himself back from either touching me or punching the wall. I decide to break the silence first. “Is Diego the child you and Camila were talking about?” His eyes flicker across the room. “Yes.” He tries to take a step forward. "Lena, let me……… " "Don't." I cut him off. "You brought your son into this house, into my house. And you didn't tell me, you let me think his parents were dead.” "Lena . …" "And you made him lie about it." The words tear out of me. "What type of father does that to his thirteen year old son,” He drags a hand through his hair and I can see the exhaustion in his eyes. “I knew it was wrong,” he says. “I knew the second I brought him in and made him lie. I just didn’t know how you’d react to the truth.” “Well, congratulations,” I laugh, “Now you know how I w