Trapped by my Ex’s Mafia Dad
I tried, but he silenced me with my own name, spoken in that commanding tone that always rooted me in place.
He came closer, knelt before me, and took my hands in his. His grip was steady, not cruel, but his eyes, they blazed with something unholy. “Bella, tell me everything. Where she lives. How she moves. I want every detail.”
I told him. I don’t know why I think a part of me needed to share the poison, to release it. Each detail was another slice into my own heart, but he listened like a man memorizing scripture. When I finished, he didn’t comfort me, didn’t even sigh. He just nodded once, like he’d already written her fate in his mind.
الفصول الرائجة