Lahat ng Kabanata ng Ruined by The Mafia Heir : Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

JORDYNThe sensible part of me screams that I should walk away, but I can't. Because even now, as we stand together in this fragile silence, I can sense the subtle rise of his defences, like walls being rebuilt brick by brick, guarding the vulnerability he momentarily revealed to me.I feel it before he even says a word.The subtle shift in his posture. The tightening of his jaw. The stillness that wraps around him like armour.He pulls back, not far, just enough that I feel the loss of him everywhere at once.“Areś…” I whisper, but the name feels weak now, like it might break in my mouth. His hand falls away from my cheek.That tiny, tender part of him, the part that let me in, is already retreating.“It’s late. You should go,” he says, his tone stripped bare of warmth. “Before someone notices you’re missing.”It doesn’t sound like anger. No, it sounds like a man trying to shut a door before the light gets in too far.“If anyone cared, they would have noticed a long time ago.” I repl

AREŚShe’s gone, and I stand frozen in the living room, staring at the space where she stood like a fucking ghost is going to fill it.The stale air tastes metallic, thick with regret. My legs tremble, but I can’t move. I'm rooted to my spot by an invisible force. Every tick of the old grandfather clock booms in my skull like a death knell.I can hear her footsteps fade down the corridor, the hollow slam of the door thundering through these walls… and then nothing but silence. A suffocating hush that presses against my eardrums.I force a quivering breath through clenched teeth and drag one shaking hand down my face. My skin is damp from sweat.“Fuck,” I exhale into the emptiness.What the hell did I just do?My fists curl at my sides, nails gouging half-moons into my palms as the truth settles like lead in my chest: the venom I spat, the cruel dismissal. I taste salt on my tongue as the weight of my own words pins me to the floor.“It was just a kiss. The only thing special about it w

AREŚ “Who are you, Areś?” she presses. “What kind of man threatens to burn an entire building to the ground and then actually fucking does it?” I cock my head to the side and narrow my eyes while I regard her seriously. “You seem awfully certain about something you know nothing about, bambina.” Her stare hardens. “Eden burns down after you make a threat to burn it down. Rocco, the man who hired me dies inside. What exactly am I supposed to believe?” “That a gas leak caused a fire and a man died. Anything beyond that is speculation.” “Speculation?” She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re seriously going to deny you had anything to do with that fire?” “The reports say it was a gas leak. What exactly do you want me to tell you?” I ask coolly. “A gas leak? You really expect me to believe that?” “Unless you’ve recently joined the fire investigation team, I’d say they probably know more about it than you do.” Her lips part, but nothing comes out. For once, I’ve managed to shut

JORDYNAny sane person would be running for the hills screaming after the encounter I just had with Areś.But no. Here I am, lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, still trying to work out how the hell an argument about possible arson, murder, and Areś Russo’s pathological need to control everything somehow ended with me agreeing to work for him.Seriously. What the fuck was I thinking?Actually, don’t answer that.Clearly, I wasn’t.I went to Oscura looking for answers. I wanted him to look me in the eye and tell me he had nothing to do with Eden burning to the ground. I wanted him to laugh at how ridiculous I was being, give me some perfectly reasonable explanation and make me feel like an idiot for ever suspecting him in the first place.Instead, he gave me nothing.No denial. No reassurance. Just clever answers that danced around every question I asked and left me with more of them than I had when I walked in.Very helpful.Thank you so much, Lord Russo.And that’s the part I

JORDYNThe annual Russo End of Summer BBQ is in full swing, wine flowing, laughter lingering, the scent of grilled meat curling through the warm air. Music hums low beneath the din of conversation as Sicily’s elite lounge across the manicured grounds of the manor like they belong to the world.I hover near the edge of it all, tucked beneath the shade of a lemon tree, fingers curled around a half-full wine glass. I’m dressed in borrowed confidence and linen; a pretty yellow-coloured sundress Bianca forced me to wear. And here I am trying to feel like I belong amongst these people.Everywhere I turn, someone’s watching. Not me exactly, just... watching.And then I see him.Matteo.He’s leaning casually against the stone railing near the garden steps, laughing at something two girls are saying, both of them pretty, polished, and clearly vying for his attention. And of course, he eats it up like candy, lazy and golden, with that smug look he wears so well.And still... when his eyes find