All Chapters of Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

“Is there a family meeting going on over there?” Giovanni asked suddenly, his smile easy, almost playful, but his eyes were sharp, probing, missing nothing.Lorenzo looked in their direction, his fork pausing midair as he waited for a response. Giulia remained absorbed in her phone, oblivious or pretending to be.Evelyn smiled widely, the kind of smile that masked nerves behind charm.“I was just telling Ivy that I’d like to go back to Detroit. I love it here, but I miss my home.”Ivy felt Lorenzo stiffen beside her. She didn’t need to look at him to know. The shift in his posture told her everything. Her mother was about to say it. And she suspected Lorenzo knew it too.“I wish Ivy could go with me,” Evelyn continued gently. “A little country air would do her good.”Lorenzo cleared his throat.“That sounds nice,” he said, his voice polite but firm, “but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Seeing how heavily pregnant Ivy is, I don’t think it’s advisable for her to go on such a long trip. P

“Hello, stepmother,” Gabriele said, his mouth curling into a cruel smile. “Are you happy to see me?”Isabella’s shock hardened instantly into fury.“What are you doing here?” she snapped.Gabriele laughed, low and amused. “The question is, what are you doing here, Isabella Martinelli? This is my father’s property, and so I have a right to be here. But you, on the other hand…”He let the sentence trail off deliberately, savoring the silence. Then he began to stroll toward her. Isabella stayed seated, her spine rigid, her pulse beating loudly enough that she was sure he could hear it. Gabriele stopped directly in front of her, far too close.“Speaking of properties,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body without shame, slow and invasive. “How would you like to give me a taste of what my old man has been enjoying? Let me see if it’s actually good enough to ruin a solid legacy for.”Isabella was instantly enraged.“Leave this place, right now!” she thundered.Gabriele threw his head b

Ivy reached Lorenzo’s suite later than she’d intended. The corridor outside his rooms was quiet, the kind of hush that only came deep into the night at the Martinelli mansion, when even the guards moved with softer steps, and the house itself seemed to hold its breath. Ivy paused briefly before opening the door, bracing herself for whatever mood she might find him in: tired, restless, awake and brooding. But when she stepped inside, the low amber lights revealed something else entirely.Lorenzo was already asleep.He lay sprawled on the massive bed, one arm thrown above his head, the other resting loosely against the pillow where she usually slept. His breathing was slow and even, his face unguarded in a way only sleep allowed. For a moment, Ivy simply stood there, watching him.This was the Lorenzo no one else ever saw. Not the Don. Not the heir. Not the man whose name inspired fear and obedience in equal measure. Just her husband, stripped of his armor by exhaustion.Not wanting to

In La Rambla, a chauffeured black Rolls-Royce pulled away from the curb in front of an old, decaying building. Vittoria and Gabriele sat in the back, the tinted windows concealing them as the vehicle merged smoothly into traffic and disappeared into the narrow streets beyond.Moments later, Luigi and five men crossed the street. They did not rush. They moved with the quiet assurance of men who had done this before. Men who knew that speed without control was reckless. From the outside, the building looked unremarkable: stained stone, flickering lights, the kind of place people passed every day without a second glance.Inside, it was a regular bar. Men drank loudly. Glasses clinked. Someone laughed too hard at a joke that wasn’t funny. Bowls of peanuts sat on tables; shells scattered across the floor. The air was thick with smoke and cheap alcohol.Luigi and his men blended in seamlessly. Their clothes were ordinary. Their faces neutral. Only their posture betrayed them: alert, delibe

“What is it?” Evelyn asked instantly, already beside Ivy, concern etching deep lines into her face. Ivy gripped her large belly, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress. “I don’t know. I just felt a sharp pain in my stomach.” Evelyn smiled reassuringly, placing a steadying hand on Ivy’s arm. “It’s normal at this stage of pregnancy. Your body is just getting ready to do what it’s been prepping for all these months.” “When is the baby due?” Giulia asked, suddenly serious. “In eight weeks, give or take,” Ivy replied. “Good Lord, we need to get the nursery ready fast,” Evelyn said, half-laughing, half-panicked. “And shop for the baby,” Giulia added immediately. “We haven’t even started working on the playground,”