All Chapters of Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

As Lorenzo continued to contemplate Ivy’s possible involvement in the scandal, a thought suddenly occurred to him. He went back to his desk and picked up his phone. He dialed a familiar number, and the call was answered after three rings.“Yes?” Giovanni grumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.Lorenzo heard a woman’s voice in the background murmuring something inaudible before Giovanni hastily shushed her.“Was it you? Did you do it?” Lorenzo asked tightly.“Did I do what?” Giovanni asked warily.“Don’t play dumb with me, Giovanni,” Lorenzo snapped. “I’m talking about the blog post. That was you, right? I know you have a bunch of cronies in the media, but I didn’t realize you were also hiring hackers from the dark web to do your dirty work.”“Can you please stop with all the riddles and tell me what’s going on?” Giovanni said impatiently. “Hold on,” Lorenzo said and then swiped through his phone to send the offending photos and website link to Giovanni.When he was done, he put the pho

Lorenzo answered with clipped coolness. “Luca.”“Why the hell is Isabella’s name trending all over the internet?” Luca’s voice came through, sharp, almost panicked.The question stopped Lorenzo in his tracks. He leaned against the wall, narrowing his eyes.“You’re calling me to talk about blog gossip?” he asked casually.“I’m calling you,” Luca snapped, “because I don’t want some jobless, over-curious, self-proclaimed investigative journalist sniffing around my estate trying to solve a mystery no one asked for.”Lorenzo blinked, thrown off by the edge in Luca’s tone. “I see… are you worried someone’s going to find her? Or figure out what you’ve done to her?”“I’m worried that this little circus act will bring heat to my doorstep,” Luca said, his voice lowering to a hiss. “I don’t need whispers about kidnapped socialites or scandalous mistresses poisoning the air around my businesses. Or worse—my family.”Lorenzo let the silence stretch before he spoke again. “Your youngest son is doin

In the Martinelli estate, evening settled over the mansion like a velvet curtain, the horizon tinged with the last blush of sunlight.On the west wing balcony, Ivy sat curled in a wicker chair, wrapped in a soft wool shawl that clung to her shoulders like a second skin. A gentle breeze danced through her loose hair, and she inhaled deeply, letting the chill sting just enough to make her feel alive again.She barely turned when she heard the door behind her open.“Anna told me I’d find you here,” came Lorenzo’s voice: low, warm, and tired.Ivy looked up just as he approached. He bent over her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, one hand brushing her shoulder in a quiet, instinctive gesture of care.“Why are you sitting outside in this chill?” he asked.Ivy’s lips curved slightly. “I was craving crisp fresh air,” she said.Lorenzo chuckled under his breath, the sound brief and hollow with fatigue. He sank into the chair beside hers, elbows on his knees, rubbing his palms together

While Ivy and Lorenzo cuddled each other lovingly in bed, Isabella tossed and turned in hers.The silence in her room had teeth. It gnawed at her as she lay in the plush bed, sheets tangled around her legs, hair strewn across the silk pillows like a halo of static frustration. The luxury that once felt like a reprieve now resembled a cage gilded in quiet cruelty.Luca had not returned in days. The meals kept coming: sumptuous, perfectly portioned, and arranged like art. The laundry was done. The room was kept spotless. She had everything, except freedom. And conversation. And answers.Tonight, the silence was louder than ever. Isabella flipped onto her side again, then her back, then sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. Her eyes, sharp and restless, drifted to the door like they had a hundred times.She thought of Ken. Of the hollowness in her chest that no food or fine linens could fill. She hated the fact that she missed him. She hated that, more and more, she wondered if he

Twenty minutes later, Ivy and Lorenzo walked in hand in hand, their steps slow but sure. Fresh from their hot shower, they both looked rejuvenated, dressed in light pastels that complemented their tanned skin and the glow that still clung to them from Monaco.The sunlight poured softly through the tall glass panels of the solarium, bathing the marbled floor in golden warmth and casting gentle reflections across the long, elegantly set breakfast table.A lush garden beyond the windows rustled quietly in the morning breeze, offering a view that seemed more suited to peace than power.Salvatore was already seated at the head of the table, a porcelain teacup in hand. His sharp eyes glanced up at them over the rim as they entered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth."I was beginning to think that I may have to postpone this meal until noon, since you two were taking your time to show up," he remarked, dry amusement lining his voice."We apologize for keeping you waiting, Non