บททั้งหมดของ Dumped by My Ex, I Married the Mafia Boss: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Nora’s povI couldn't sleep. My mind was a whirlwind of emerald silk, dark red wine, and the low, possessive authority in Luca's voice when he claimed me as his wife before the entire city.By two in the morning, needing a glass of warm water to settle my racing thoughts, I padded down the quiet corridor of the second floor. As I passed the arched entryway leading toward the master wing's upper terrace, I noticed a door sitting slightly ajar. A soft, amber glow spilled across the hardwood floor, accompanied by the steady, low rushing of water.Believing a faucet had been left running, I stepped closer and gently pushed the door open. "Luca? Is everything okay—"The words froze in my throat.It wasn't a kitchenette or a hallway utility room. It was a sprawling, steam-filled marble bathroom. Standing before a massive vanity, his upper body completely bare, was Luca.The thick mist hung in the air, smelling of pine wood, dark cedar, and warm sea salt. He had just stepped out of the bath,

Nora’s povLuca stayed frozen for a long second, his forehead pressed against mine, his ragged breathing fanning over my lips. The raw heat radiating off his chest felt like a furnace, but under the fierce possessiveness in his gaze, I saw something else, a shadowed, heavy pain that no amount of power or money could erase.Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he reached up and covered my hand with his own, his large fingers curling gently around mine. He stepped back just enough to let me slide down off the marble vanity counter, his arm staying wrapped around my waist until my feet settled firmly on the floor.He didn't pull away entirely. Instead, he led me out of the warm, misty bathroom and into the quiet dark of his private study on the third floor.A single

Nora’s povThe golden clarity of Saturday gave way to a muggy, suffocating heat by Tuesday morning. Heavy grey clouds hung low over the skyline, trapping the city’s exhaust and humidity in a dense, oppressive haze.My mother’s progress, however, was a bright light through the gloom.When I arrived at St. Jude’s private wing shortly after eleven, Dr. Harrison greeted me outside her suite with a warm, approving smile. Her oxygen line had been removed, and the fluid buildup in her lungs was completely gone. For the first time in over a year, her chart didn't carry the terrifying red tag of critical status."She’s making a remarkable recovery, Mrs. Castellano," Dr. Harrison noted, handing me the updated chart. "At this rate, we can discuss an outpatient transition to your estate by the end of next month."I sat by my mother's bedside for two hours, peeling apples for her and listening to her talk about the garden she wanted to plant once she was discharged. Her hand in mine felt stronger,

Nora’s povThe world returned in sharp, agonizing fragments.My head throbbed with a sickening, heavy pulse, the lingering taste of chloroform bitter against the back of my throat. When I forced my eyes open, the space around me was cold, cavernous, and pitch-black, illuminated only by a single bare bulb dangling from a rusted chain high above.The air smelled of stagnant harbor water, damp concrete, and ancient iron.I tried to move my hands, but heavy hemp rope bit sharply into my wrists, binding them tightly behind the wooden chair I was strapped to. My ankles were tied securely to the chair’s thick legs.A few yards away, pacing back and forth across the oil-stained floor, was Sebastian.He held a half-empty bottle of cheap rye whiskey in one hand and the rusted revolver in the other. His hair was wild, plastered to his forehead with sweat and rain, his breath coming in ragged, erratic hitches."You're awake," he said, turning sharply toward me, a manic, breathless laugh escaping

Nora’s povSix months later.The crisp air of early spring had returned to the city, bringing with it bright green shoots along the estate’s stone perimeter and the warm, golden light of clear mornings.My mother’s transition from St. Jude’s to the private guesthouse on the estate had gone smoothly three months ago. Now, she spent her afternoons sitting on the sunlit terrace with her sketching pads, her cheeks healthy and full, her laughter joining Leo's as he chased the puppy through the garden beds.In the grand music room, the Steinway stood open.Leo sat beside me on the long bench, his little fingers moving with remarkable precision across the keys as he played a warm, rolling harmony. He didn't j