Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed By The Five Mafia Brothers : Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

LUCA POV6:30am. Milan.The black sedan is still behind us.Two levels down in the garage, it pulled out.Now it’s three cars back on the via.“Confirmed tail,” Nico says over comms. “Black Audi. Tinted. One driver. No plates in the system.”“Don’t lead them to the safe house,” Isabella says from the back. Her voice is steady. “Lose them first.”Enzo nods. He takes a hard right.The SUV swerves. Dante and the second SUV peel off in the opposite direction. Decoy.Aria is in the middle seat between me and her mom. She’s pale.Her phone is face down in her lap.She keeps looking at the photo from last night.Me carrying her to bed.“Luca,” she whispers. “That was in our room.”“I know,” I say.Someone was in the hotel. Or on a building across from it.With a camera.And Victoria posted the airport photo 10 minutes ago.So she either hired them, or she is them.Enzo cuts through two lanes. Horns blare.The Audi follows. Clean. Professional.“They’re good,” Enzo mutters.“Then we’ll be bet

ARIA POVThe dress was still on the bed when we all came upstairs.I didn't want to look at it, but I couldn't look anywhere else. My white dress. The one I bought the day we landed in Milan, the one I hung up so carefully for the first Moretti family dinner because Isabella told me on FaceTime that white would make me look innocent and clean for the press.It went missing from my closet in the hotel two days ago, Day 2 of this trip. I told housekeeping and they said they'd check laundry. I even filed a report at the front desk. Victoria was standing right there when I did it. She said, "Oh, things get lost in hotels all the time, Aria."It was not lost. Someone had taken it.And now it was cut down the middle. Not just a little tear. Someone had taken scissors and sliced it from the collar straight down to the hem, like they wanted to split it open. The fabric was frayed, the lace at the sleeves pulled apart. It looked violent. It looked personal.Luca was the first one to move. He p

ARIA POV 12:35am. Room 1408.Nobody touched the Polaroid after Nico set it down. It sat on the bedside table, facing up, showing all six of us in the hallway outside 1208. Dante closest to the door, Enzo with his hand on his gun, Isabella in front of me, Luca with his hand around mine. It was taken from low down, through a crack, like she was kneeling.She had been watching us while we were watching her.Enzo pulled the curtains first. Not just closed, he pulled them all the way shut and clipped them together with a binder clip from his bag. No crack, no light, no lens."Lights off," Dante said, quiet.Nico killed the main light. The room went dark except for the bathroom glow and the red dot on Enzo's thermal scanner. He moved slow, scanning the bed, the pillows, the sheets where we slept last night.Isabella sat me down on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, away from the windows. "You stay here for five minutes, okay? While they check. I don't want you in there while they look."

DANTE POVThe hallway on the sixth floor never really sleeps. Even at 8:15am it hums. AC, ice machine down the hall, that old elevator groan.I stayed up here while Enzo went downstairs. That was the plan. Luca in 1208 with Victoria, Enzo in the basement pulling the keycard logs, and me outside with two coffees trying to look like I just happened to be there.I leaned against the wall opposite 1208, carrier in one hand, phone hot in the other pocket. Recording.I could hear her through the door. Victoria. That sweet LIVE voice she puts on, like honey over glass. Then Luca, low and flat. He wasn't playing her game.He said it clear, right through the wood so my mic caught it: She is not my sister.That was the whole point of this breakfast. She'd been calling Aria his little sister since yesterday in the hallway. Saw Aria behind Isabella and spun it on LIVE so fast. If the photo of them sleeping ever leaked, she wanted people to think, oh, his staff sister is obsessed with him. Not his

ARIA POVThe pilot said Chicago in ten minutes, and my stomach dropped before the plane did.I had both hands wrapped around the coffee, black, no sugar, Dante's landing coffee, house rule he said. It was still too hot, burning into my palms, but my feet were cold under the blanket.Luca felt the drop. He didn't say anything. He just pulled the blanket over my feet, the wool catching on my bare ankles, and put his seatbelt over both of us. One belt, his arm over it, heavy and warm.Isabella turned her phone off. Not silent, off. The screen went black, and she set it face-down on the armrest and looked out the window at the clouds breaking open over water."There," Nico said from behind, his finger on the glass. "Lake."I leaned over Luca, the seatbelt pulling across my hips, to see. Lake Michigan, blue and cold from up here, even through the plane window. Then buildings getting bigger, then streets I knew. Not Milan marble and scooters. Chicago brick and traffic lights and that Octobe