Todos os capítulos de The mafia king’s substitute husband: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

THE FIGHTSALVATORE'S POVThe call comes from Leo's school a week later, the principal's voice calm on the phone, asking if Salvatore can come in before the end of the day.He drops everything. Nico notices and doesn't ask questions, just takes over the meeting Salvatore was supposed to run.Leo's sitting outside the principal's office when Salvatore arrives, knuckles scraped, one eye starting to swell, a defiant set to his jaw that Salvatore recognizes because he's seen it in the mirror more times than he can count."What happened," Salvatore says, crouching to look at him properly."I hit him first," Leo says, before anyone else can explain it for him. "I'm not going to pretend I didn't."The principal fills in the rest once they're seated. The same boy from before, apparently, pushed things further this time, said something about Leo's birth parents that the principal won't repeat in detail, only that it was cruel enough that another student came forward on her own to report it."I

THE PIANO ELIAN'S POV The piano arrives on a Saturday, a gift I didn't ask for and almost refuse out of sheer surprise, delivered by two men who clearly don't make deliveries like this very often given how carefully they maneuver it through the front doors. "You mentioned once that you used to play," Salvatore says, watching my face as the movers settle it into the corner of the sitting room. "Before any of this. Before your father decided it wasn't useful enough to matter." "I haven't touched a piano in years," I admit, running a hand along the polished wood, something old and tender stirring in my chest. "I don't know if I still remember how." "Then find out," he says, simple, like it's the easiest thing in the world. I sit down that evening after Leo's gone to bed, alone, and my fingers find the keys hesitant at first, clumsy in a way that embarrasses me even with no one watching. But slowly, piece by piece, something comes back, an old piece I learned as a boy, simple and a l

THE PHOTOGRAPHELIAN'S POVI find the box of old photographs again by accident, looking for a spare key in the back of Salvatore's closet, and among them I notice one I hadn't paid proper attention to before, Salvatore as a boy, maybe seven or eight, standing on what looks like a school playing field, another smaller boy beside him with his arm in a makeshift sling."Who is this?" I ask, bringing it to him that evening.He goes still, taking the photograph carefully, studying it a long moment. "That's me," he says, finally. "And that's the boy I told you about, once. The one from the play field."Something clicks slowly into place. "This is him. The one who pulled you back.""I didn't realize anyone had taken a picture of it," Salvatore says, quiet, turning it over to find nothing written on the back. "I don't even remember who. One of the mothers, probably."I study the photograph again, a younger Salvatore looking faintly embarrassed, the other boy grinning despite his sling, some o

LEO'S QUESTION ELIAN'S POV Leo finds the plaque the very next morning, exactly where Salvatore hung it the night before, low enough on the stairwell wall that a nine-year-old can read it without craning his neck. "What's this for," he asks, running his fingers over the engraved lettering, sounding out the words slowly. "For outstanding contribution to the community." "The city gave it to Papa Salvatore," I told him, coming to stand beside him. "For the fund Uncle Matteo started, and for some of the work this family's done these last few years." Leo studies it a long while, something thoughtful working behind his eyes. "Is Papa Salvatore a good guy or a bad guy?" The question catches me off guard, not because it's unexpected exactly, he's asked variations of it before, but because of how plainly he asks it this time, like he's genuinely ready for a real answer instead of the careful, softened version we sometimes default to. I sit down on the stairs, and he sits beside me,

THE OLD HOUSE SOLDELIAN'S POVMatteo calls to tell me he's finally decided to sell the old Rossi townhouse, and something in me sits with the news longer than I expect it to before I can properly name what I'm feeling about it."Camille and I found a place we both like better," he explains, over the phone. "Smaller, honestly, but it's ours in a way that house never quite felt like it belonged to either of us. Too much history in those walls that neither of us wants to keep carrying.""I understand," I tell him, and I do, though something tender and complicated still tugs at me thinking about that house finally passing out of the family's hands entirely."I wanted to ask if you'd want to come by, before it's gone. Walk through it one more time. I know it holds things for you that aren't easy, but I also know it held some good, underneath all of that. I didn't want to sell it without giving you the chance."I think about it for a few days before deciding, and eventually I ask Salvatore