All Chapters of Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

The door opened, and to Isabella’s surprise, it wasn’t the maid who appeared. Luca stepped into the room, tall and commanding as ever.He was dressed impeccably in a tailored gray suit and crisp white shirt, the faintest scent of expensive cologne trailing behind him as he entered.His silver hair had been freshly trimmed, and for the first time in years, his signature moustache was gone. He looked younger, sharper. In one hand, he carried a large manila envelope.“My darling,” he said with a flourish, his voice rich and warm. “I’m back. I thought you’d be asleep by now, but then I saw your lights were still on.”Isabella blinked in surprise, recovering quickly enough to mask it with a small smile.“You returned earlier than I expected,” she said softly, forcing the curve of her lips even though her heart was still heavy from moments earlier.“I accomplished my mission sooner than I planned,” Luca replied as he closed the door behind him and strode across the room.He stopped only whe

“Mr. Martinelli,” the woman said warmly, extending a manicured hand. Her accent was pure Havana, rich and lilting. “I’m Clarissa, the hotel manager. It’s an honor to welcome you personally.”Giovanni took her hand, his gaze lingering on her sultry features. She was stunning: mid-thirties, with smooth caramel-toned skin and dark waves cascading over her shoulders. Her warm brown eyes held just the faintest spark of intelligence, and perhaps amusement, as they met his.“The honor is mine,” Giovanni said smoothly. He allowed the ghost of a smile to tug at his lips. “I wasn’t expecting such a personal welcome.”Clarissa smiled politely, though her posture remained impeccably professional. “We like to ensure our distinguished guests feel at home. Your suite has been fully prepared. If there’s anything you require, please don’t hesitate to call me directly.”“I’ll keep that in mind,” Giovanni said, his voice dropping ever so slightly, testing the waters. “Anything at all?”Clarissa didn’

In Havana, Giovanni sat on the cold steel bench inside the cramped holding cell, his arms draped loosely over his knees, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavily on him. The air in the room was thick with the faint stench of sweat and disinfectant. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting long, tired shadows across the chipped tiled floor.He’d been there for nearly thirty minutes now. Thirty minutes of silence, thirty minutes of waiting, thirty minutes of nothing.The officers had locked him in without so much as a word and gone about their business as if he didn’t exist. No interrogation, no questions, no request for a statement. Just indifference. But Giordano wasn’t fazed. He leaned back against the cold cement wall, his jaw tight, his gaze burning a hole into the ground. Fury boiled quietly inside him.He should have seen this coming. What had started as a mission to prove his loyalty to the family, to earn back the trust he’d lost, had turned out to be a se

“DOWN!” Giovanni shouted, diving low.The first burst of gunfire tore through the air, deafening and violent. Glass exploded around them as bullets shredded the windows, showering Giovanni and Ruiz with shards. The driver swore loudly and jerked the wheel, swerving erratically to avoid becoming a sitting target.Another volley of bullets ripped through the car, this time hitting the driver. He let out a guttural scream as one bullet tore through his arm, blood spraying across the dashboard. Still, through sheer willpower, he kept control of the vehicle, zigzagging across the narrow road.“Do you have a gun?” Giovanni yelled over the chaos, glancing at Ruiz.But before Ruiz could answer, a second hail of bullets struck the Mercedes, tearing through the tires. The sound of rubber blowing out was followed by the sickening lurch of the car spinning uncontrollably.“Hold on!” Ruiz barked.The world blurred into a dizzying mix of screeching tires, flying dust, and shattering glass as the

Giovanni sniffled and quickly wiped his face on the sleeve of his jacket, embarrassed by his vulnerability."Gosh, I must look like a little girl," he joked weakly.Lorenzo chuckled softly, the sound warm and familiar. "That’s what you used to call me."Giovanni raised a brow. "Because you liked to cry a lot when we were kids. Everything made you cry. It was annoying.""It was a tactic," Lorenzo countered smoothly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Didn’t you notice that I always got what I wanted each time I cried?""Of course I noticed, you sneaky bastard," Giovanni said, a genuine laugh breaking through his grief.Lorenzo laughed too, a rich, low sound that carried in the evening air."Speaking of bastards," Giovanni said when the laughter died down, his tone sharpening with purpose, "have you decided what we’re going to do to Keen and his crazy buddies in the Bureau for what they did to me today?"Lorenzo’s expression shifted instantly, his eyes narrowing slightly