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Thirty Two
publish date:
2026-06-21 00:03:09
Latest chapter
The Mafia's Princess Forty
Isabella woke slowly.For a few brief seconds, her mind remained hazy, suspended somewhere between exhaustion and reality.The soft mattress beneath her felt unfamiliar.Too soft.Too luxurious.And the scent in the air...Fresh linen.Vanilla.Wood polish.Not home.Her eyes fluttered open.The first thing she saw was the enormous chandelier hanging above her.Then came the realization.The Valenti mansion.Her breath caught slightly.Memories from the previous night crashed into her all at once.The party.The humiliation.The laughter.Lorenzo walking in.The gunshot.Alessandro.The argument outside the study.And finally, Lorenzo's words.“You were trapped the moment you walked into my life.”Isabella closed her eyes briefly.Her chest tightened painfully.Nothing about her life felt real anymore.Slowly, she pushed herself upright against the massive bed, looking around the room properly for the first time.The guest bedroom was breathtaking.Fresh flowers sat on the bedside tab
The Mafia's Princess Thirty Nine
Isabella stood frozen outside the room, her hand still hovering near the door handle, her breathing uneven after everything she had just heard.Every word.Every accusation.Every cruel truth.It all rang violently inside her head.“She belongs to me.”The words made her chest tighten painfully.Inside the study, silence settled again.But outside?A storm brewed between two broken people.Alessandro lifted his head slowly after colliding into her.For a moment…Neither of them spoke.They simply stared at each other.And what existed between them now was no longer romance.No longer attraction.No longer even confusion.It was wreckage.Pure wreckage.Alessandro's expression darkened the second he realized she had heard everything.Isabella could see it instantly.The humiliation.The anger.The resentment.His pride had been shattered tonight.Not just by Lorenzo.But by her too.And somehow that made him hate her even more.Isabella swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly when
The Mafia's Princess Thirty Eight
The moment the study door closed behind Isabella…The room changed.The tension that had been restrained moments ago now rose freely between father and son like smoke before a fire.Don Lorenzo stood unmoving behind his desk, his expression cold and unreadable.Alessandro remained near the center of the room, fists clenched tightly at his sides.His chest rose and fell unevenly.Anger.Humiliation.Confusion.All of it burned inside him at once.For the first time in a long time…He wasn’t afraid enough to stay silent.His eyes locked onto his father.And finally he spoke.“Why?”Don Lorenzo's gaze didn’t shift.“Be specific.”Alessandro let out a bitter laugh.“You slept with my girlfriend.”The accusation rang sharply through the room.Still Lorenzo showed no reaction.If anything, his calmness only made Nico angrier.“That’s low,” Alessandro spat. “Even for you.”Don Lorenzo slowly placed the glass in his hand onto the desk.The soft clink echoed loudly in the silence.“You’re in n
The Mafia's Princess Thirty Seven
The atmosphere in Don Lorenzo's study had barely settled.The air still carried the weight of everything that had happened. The party, the humiliation, the rescue, the unspoken emotions that neither of them had fully processed.Isabella sat across from him.She felt… safe.And yet, not.Because every word Lorenzo spoke reminded her of one thing...Her life was no longer simple.It could never be again.Don Lorenzo stood by the window, his back partially turned to her, his gaze fixed on the darkness outside.But his mind?It was far from calm.It was calculating.Always calculating.Finally, he spoke.“Your mother.”Isabella's head lifted immediately.Her heart skipped.“My… mother?” she repeated softly.Lorenzo turned to face her now, his expression serious, more serious than she had ever seen it.“We need to move her.”The words hit instantly.Hard.Isabella blinked.“What…?”“Tomorrow morning,” he continued, his tone firm, leaving no room for negotiation. “She cannot stay where she
The Mafia's Princess Thirty Six
Valeria Rossi didn’t bother taking off her heels as she stepped into the grand halls of the Rossi mansion.The marble floors echoed beneath her hurried steps, her pulse still racing, not from fear, but from adrenaline.From satisfaction.From the thrilling realization that everything had just changed.Her lips curved slightly as she walked deeper into the house, her mind replaying the scene over and over again.Don Lorenzo walking in.The fear.The silence.The way he had wrapped Isabella in his jacket.The way he had carried her out.Like she belonged to him.Like nothing, and no one else mattered.Valeria exhaled slowly.“Yes…” she whispered under her breath.“That’s her.”There was no doubt anymore.No confusion.No second-guessing.Isabella Lombardi was the girl.The one from that night.The one Martin had spoken about.The one who had begged for a life, and was granted it.And more importantly, the one who had somehow gotten Don Lorenzo Valenti's attention.Her smile deepened.He
The Mafia's Princess Thirty Five
The drive to the Valenti Mansion had passed in near silence.Not the suffocating kind from before.Not the tense, dangerous quiet that filled the space between them in the car earlier.This one was… different.Isabella sat beside Don Lorenzo, wrapped in his jacket, her fingers still clutching the fabric as if letting go would somehow unravel everything holding her together.Her body still trembled.Her mind hadn’t stopped racing.Not for a second.The humiliation.The laughter.The video.Alessandro.Valeria.And then…Him.The way he walked in.The way everything changed.The way he carried her out like nothing else in the world mattered.Isabella swallowed softly, her eyes drifting briefly toward him.Lorenzo's expression remained unreadable.Focused.Controlled.But there was something beneath it.Something she couldn’t quite name.Something that unsettled her just as much as it steadied her.When the car finally rolled through the grand gates of the Valenti Mansion, Isabella's bre
The Mafia's Princess Eight
The party went on.Music pulsed through the mansion, laughter echoed against marble walls, and glasses clinked as guests lost themselves in the night. It was everything a celebration was supposed to be.Alive, vibrant, intoxicating.But for Isabella, it all felt distant.Muted.Like she was there,
The Mafia's Princess Seven
Isabella's throat felt dry.Her heart was still racing, her pulse uneven, her thoughts tangled beyond reason.But somehow she managed to force the words out.“It’s… it’s nice to meet you, sir.”Her voice trembled despite her effort to sound composed.For a brief second, silence lingered between them
The Mafia's Princess Six
Isabella stood in front of her closet for what felt like the hundredth time, her fingers gliding over fabrics she barely recognized as hers.Silk. Satin. Velvet.Dresses that whispered confidence… boldness… attention.None of them felt like her.She pulled one out, a red bodycon dress, and held it
The Mafia's Princess Five
Don Lorenzo Valenti didn’t bother hiding his irritation when the door to his study opened again.His gaze lifted sharply—cold, unreadable.And there stood his son.Again.A scowl immediately formed on his face.“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Lorenzo asked, his voice edged with impatience.Alessandro
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