Lahat ng Kabanata ng Her Mafia Stepbrother’s Obsession : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The peace of the De Rossi estate shattered at noon. Alessia was halfway up the grand staircase, polishing the mahogany railing when the doors of Antonio’s study flew open hard enough to strike the walls. Antonio stepped into the hall with three senior capos behind him. His jaw was locked, his pale grey eyes were cold, and a satellite phone was pressed against his ear. “How many?” he demanded. Alessia’s hand stopped moving. Antonio listened, his brows knitting. “How many, damn it?” A pause, then his expression changed. “All twelve? In broad daylight?” The hallway went still. Elena appeared from the drawing room, followed by Bianca . “Antonio, darling, what happened?” He lowered the phone, silent for several seconds as he looked toward the windows. “Chicago is closed. The Bianchi family is finished.” “What do you mean?” Elena asked. “Cassian wiped out their entire leadership this afternoon.” Alessia’s fingers tightened around her cloth. Cassian. Elena recovers first.

Morning came, but nothing about it felt better. Alessia had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she found herself back in that narrow corridor, pinned between the stone wall and Cassian’s towering body. She could still remember how calmly he had stood there while she trembled, he hadn’t needed to touch her, and that was what frightened her most. By breakfast, the entire household already had her working. Elena had sent her to the east gallery with a rag, a feather duster, and a list of things that needed cleaning. Alessia had been dusting the enormous gold frames lining the walls for nearly an hour when she reached the portrait nearest the entrance to the west wing. She stopped. The west wing. Cassian’s part of the house. She knew because everyone knew. Servants weren’t supposed to enter without permission. Even the guards rarely went beyond the heavy doors separating it from the rest of the estate. Alessia quickly looked away. She stretched onto her toes and ran the

Cassian leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The moonlight coming through the small window reached part of his face, Alessia could smell the tobacco on him, mixed with his cologne. “Look at me.” She shut her eyes, her head shook in decline. “Please...” “I said, look at me.” There was no need for him to raise his voice. Alessia opened her eyes and met his pale silver stare. Cassian reached for her, his fingers went around her jaw, and Alessia immediately flinched. She had expected him to hurt her. Instead, he simply held her face and lifted it, her head tipped back, his thumb moved along her jaw before settling against the side of her neck, right over her pulse. Cassian felt it beating beneath his thumb and Alessia couldn’t make it slow down. Her heart was racing, she tried to breathe normally, but every breath came too quickly. Cassian’s eyes changed when he felt it. He pressed his thumb a little harder. “Your heart is beating so fast, Dolcezza,” he took another dra

Alessia’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. Her hands remained pressed against Cassian’s chest, clutching the front of his shirt. “I... I didn’t see anything,” the lie fell apart the moment it left her mouth. “I swear, Cassian, I was only—" “Lying,” he said calmly. His thumb brushed against her cheek, keeping her face turned toward him. “I saw you. You stood there and watched.” Heat flooded her cheeks, she wanted the floor to open and swallow her whole. Cassian stepped closer, his gaze drifted briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes, a look that made her pulse stumble, and she hated herself for noticing him at all. “Please,” tears blurred her vision. “Let me go.” For a moment, he simply watched every emotion she felt which was written plainly across her face. Then he released her and stepped back, leaving her cold. “You dropped the glass,” he said, his expression had already returned to its usual coldness. Nothing remained of the faint amusement from moments before. “

The morning air in the estate carried the fresh smell of damp earth and crushed pine after the overnight storm. Inside the mansion, though, the air felt stale and heavy, still carrying the faint trace of Cassian’s dark tobacco. Alessia kept her eyes fixed on the polished runner as she carried a heavy silver tray down the second-floor gallery. On it sat a porcelain teapot, two delicate bone-china cups, and a small dish of lemon slices. The china clinked softly with every step, keeping time with the beating of her heart. She had spent the early hours scrubbing the lower kitchen, trying to push the memory of the day before out of her mind. The study door opening. Cassian’s fingers against her jaw. His cold warning to keep quiet about what she had heard. As she turned toward the private study, two guards in black suits stepped out from the shadows, their hands resting near their jackets. Neither of them spoke. They looked her over briefly before one of them knocked twice on the dar