All Chapters of The Mafia's Illicit Obsession: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Dante CortezLivia looks like she’s seen a fucking ghost. The vibrant color drains from her face in a matter of seconds, leaving her skin ghostly pale and her dark eyes wide with unadulterated terror.I fucking hate seeing her look like this, fragile, trembling, and terrified because of some pathetic, gossip-obsessed old woman. I got too comfortable. I was enjoying my rare, peaceful moment with my woman and my sister way too much to notice a threat slipping up on us from behind.I unfold my frame from the booth and step around the table until I am standing right beside Livia. Leaning down, I cupped her trembling jaw with my large hand and press a firm, reassuring kiss against her cool forehead.“I’ll handle it, mi reina,” I rumble low enough for only her to hear. “Stay right here.”“Where are you going?” Ysa’s voice pops up behind me, completely innocent and blissfully unaware of the storm brewing.I turn my head slightly toward my little sister. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Sit wit

Livia SoleneIgnoring my mother is a dangerous, thrilling game, but right now, I don't care. I completely power down my phone, shutting out her toxicity until my boarding call. Dante begged me to fly back to New York with him on his private jet, and as much as every single fiber of my body screamed to say yes, I couldn't risk it.My grandfather’s personal bookkeeper was the one who processed my first-class ticket out here. If my name fails to register on the airline's manifest at JFK, an alert will instantly ping straight to Nonno's estate, and he will start asking terrifying, lethal questions. So, to keep our secret buried, I force myself onto the commercial flight back to New York, sinking into my spacious velvet seat in first class.The moment the aircraft reaches cruising altitude, I power my phone back on to check my notifications. My mother only tried calling twice. No frantic follow-up texts, no missed call spam. For the absolute first time in my years of life, I don't bother c

Livia SoleneMy entire body feels like an anvil, every muscle heavy and aching with sheer, bone-deep exhaustion. I have zero desire to pull myself out of this warm hotel bed, let alone put on a fake, pleasant smile and go down to the lobby restaurant to sit across from my husband’s famous mistress. But in a single, terrifying fraction of a second, every single sleepy cell in my body snaps violently awake as a pair of massive, rock-hard arms wrap securely around my waist!A primal, electric wave of panic spikes through my chest, and I am about to thrash and fight back with everything I have until the distinct, intoxicating scent of cedarwood, rich leather, and dark rain floods my senses. A split second later, a warm, rough face buries itself straight into the sensitive part of my neck.“Morning, mi reina,” he rumbles, his deep, velvety voice sending a thrilling, dangerous shiver straight down my spine.I freeze, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs. “Dante?! What on e

Livia SoleneDante is so gloriously, terrifyingly unhinged, and God, I am so hopelessly like it with every single second of it.I lie back against the silk pillows, scrolling through my phone while the online world completely burns to the ground around us. The top trending news across every major media outlet in New York is screaming about Vincent’s tech empire. A catastrophic, unprecedented cyberattack hit their central servers an hour ago, injecting a relentless virus that has paralyzed their entire network. Social media is having a field day, detailing how the golden boy of Manhattan tech was caught totally unprepared by an anonymous hacker who is currently dismantling his corporate server brick by virtual brick.Vincent’s life is falling apart in real time, and I haven't had to lift a single finger.The mastermind behind the absolute destruction is lying right beside me, just wearing his boxers, fast asleep, his face buried snugly into the warm crook of my neck. His heavy arm is t

Livia Solene“Happy anniversary,” I say, stepping into the warm evening air and kissing my mother and father on both cheeks in fluent, practiced succession.It is exactly what I expected. The sprawling, lush backyard of Giovanni and Alessandra Feroci's estate has been painstakingly transformed into an ethereal, glittering fairytale landscape. A gorgeous, multi-million-dollar facade masking their thirty-year anniversary of being toxic and cruel to each other.I arrived thirty minutes ago, using Dante’s personal driver as my discreet, undercover Uber. The luxury sedan's windows were tinted so darkly that no one on the estate could see inside, giving me a precious, quiet sanctuary to sit in the driveway for half an hour before dragging myself to the door. I have zero emotional bandwidth for this fake, suffocating display of familial love tonight, but I didn't have a choice. Attendance is mandatory when you carry the Feroci name.“I brought a limited edition vintage wine for the two of yo