All Chapters of Married To The Mafia King, Pregnant With His Heir: Chapter 101 - Chapter 107

VittoriaBella turned twelve the year Victor Kane found us. I did not recognize him at first, standing at our door on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, considerably older than the young man I remembered.His dark hair now threaded with gray, though his eyes carried the same careful, patient intensity that had unsettled me even during our earliest, most innocent conversations decades earlier."Vittoria," he said, and something in the way he spoke my name, gentle and almost reverent, made cold recognition flood through me before I fully processed who stood before me."Victor," I managed, my voice carrying considerably less composure than I wished. "How did you find us.""I've always known where you were," he said simply. "I chose not to disturb your peace, until circumstances made that discretion considerably more difficult to maintain."I felt Antonio appear behind me, his presence steady and protective, though I could see him searching for the same recognition I had only just achieved.

Vittoria'sBella married Antonio's careful business partner's son, a good, steady young man I believed would provide her genuine security, when she was twenty-three, and I confess I allowed myself, in the years that followed her wedding, to finally believe that Salvatore's old threat had genuinely faded into irrelevant history.Antonio's health remained fragile in ways that never fully resolved after his terrible illness, though he lived considerably longer than the physician had once believed possible, long enough to see Bella settled into her own household, long enough to hold her only daughter, born nearly two years into her marriage.I did not live to see my granddaughter grow past infancy.The illness that eventually claimed me arrived gradually, in my sixty-first year, considerably more mundane than Antonio's earlier crisis, simple age and a heart that had, perhaps, carried too many years of careful vigilance to sustain itself indefinitely.I spent my final months in quiet refle

AntonioShe came to me on an ordinary Sunday afternoon, nearly a year after her vow renewal with Damiano, carrying baby Elena on her hip and an expression I recognized immediately as one that had been building toward this particular question for considerable time."I want to ask you something," Bella said, settling into the chair across from mine in the small sitting room I had come to occupy during my supervised visits, "about my mother."My chest tightened immediately, old guilt rising with the particular swiftness of something long anticipated finally arriving."What would you like to know," I asked, though something in my voice must have betrayed my own careful bracing, because Bella studied me with sudden, sharpened attention."Salvatore Cattaneo," she said slowly. Before he died, he told me things about my mother. About an old contract, an old promise she apparently broke by choosing you instead of him. I want to know if you knew any of this. If she ever told you.I sat with th