My adorable mafioso
Fabio’s head snapped up, surprise and alarm flickering in his eyes.
“You think she could do something like that?” he asked, disbelief dripping from every syllable.
Mirella leaned in, a cold smile curling on her lips.
“That woman would sell her soul to the devil to get what she wants.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked away, leaving behind the scent of expensive perfume and a trail of unspoken resentments. Fabio remained where he was, frozen in a web of dark thoughts. Mirella’s words echoed in his mind, mixing with his own demons. He himself had done something terrible—justified it as a necessary sacrifice for a greater good. But deep down, he knew he bore part of the blame f