Todos os capítulos de The mafia king’s substitute husband: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

A THREATSALVATORE’S POVThe message comes from Nico just after breakfast.He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t need to.Someone from Dario’s old network has been asking questions around the docks. Nothing serious yet. Just questions about the house. The family’s routine. When the children leave for school. Who comes and goes.The kind of things Salvatore has learned never to ignore.“Probably nothing,” Nico says.He says it casually, but there’s no ease in his expression.Salvatore looks up from the papers on his desk.“Who?”“A minor name from Dario’s old circle. I thought you’d want to know before it became something.”Salvatore leans back.Years ago, he might have sent men immediately. He might have dealt with the problem before anyone else even knew there was one.Now there are other things to consider.Leo’s school.Elian.The house.The life they’ve built.“Double the watch on the school run,” he says. “And find out everything you can about him.”Nico nods.Salvatore doesn’t tell El

MATTEO’S TURNELIAN’S POVMatteo asks me to help him choose a ring, and honestly, I’ve never seen him this unsure of himself.Not even when he was first learning how to be honest with us.He stands beside me at the jeweler’s counter, staring at the rows of rings.“I don’t know what she’d actually like,” he says.The jeweler places another tray in front of us.Matteo looks at it, then at me.“I know what looks expensive. I don’t know what looks like her.”I almost laugh.“Then don’t think about what’s expensive.”He frowns.“What does she talk about?”“What?”“Camille. What does she talk about when she’s not talking about work or you?”He thinks about it.“The ocean.”“She grew up near the coast,” he continues. “She talks about it all the time. Says living here makes her feel trapped sometimes. Like there’s too much land between her and the water.”That gives me an idea.“Then get her something that reminds her of it.”We go through the rings again, this time without Matteo worrying ab

TRAINING DAYSELIAN'S POVLeo wants to learn to shoot the summer he turns eight, and he brings it up at dinner the way he brings up most things now."Other kids at school talk about hunting with their dads," he says, pushing peas around his plate. "I want to learn something too. Not hunting. The thing you do, Papa Salvatore. In the stone building."Salvatore sets his fork down slowly. I watch him from afar. "That's not a game, Leo," he says. "It's not something I'd teach you the way I'd teach you to ride a bike.""I know that." Leo looks between us, earnest. "I just don't want to be scared of it. Like I used to be scared of the dark before Papa Elian taught me it was okay to leave the hallway light on."Something passes between Salvatore and me across the table, an old conversation neither of us has said out loud in years but both of us remember clearly enough."We'll talk about it," Salvatore says, which isn't a no, and Leo seems to understand that, nodding and going back to his pea

SOFIA'S FIRST WORDSROSA'S POVI never expected to be the one telling this story, but Elian's been asking me for weeks to write down what happened the day Sofia said her first word, so here it is, in my own hand, for whatever that's worth to a family that's taught me more about love than I ever thought I'd get to learn firsthand.It happens on a Thursday afternoon, nothing special about the day itself. Nico's working late, which has become rarer the past year, and I'm in the kitchen with Sofia propped on my hip while I try to manage dinner one-handed, a skill I've gotten frighteningly good at.Leo's at the table doing homework, or pretending to, mostly watching Sofia with the devoted attention he's given her since the day she was born. He's the one who notices first."She's trying to say something," he says, setting down his pencil.I don't think much of it. She babbles constantly these days, sounds that could mean anything or nothing. But Leo leans in close to her, patient the way he

GROWING PAINSELIAN'S POVLeo turns nine the following spring, and somewhere in the months after meeting his grandmother, something changes. That doesn't mean the hard days stop coming entirely. He comes home from school one afternoon in a mood I can't quite place, quiet through dinner, picking at his food instead of eating it, and it isn't until bedtime that he finally says what's bothering him."Some kid at school said my dad's a criminal," he tells me, sitting on the edge of his bed, not looking at me. "He said it meant. Like it was supposed to hurt."My stomach drops a little, because I've known this conversation was coming eventually, just not exactly when or how."What did you say back?" I ask, careful."Nothing. I didn't know what to say." He finally looks up. "Is it true?"I sat down next to him. "Your Papa Salvatore has done things in his life that weren't good things. That part is true. He'd tell you that himself, if you asked him. He's not proud of all of it.""So the kid