Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Mafia Kings Captive Bride: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The rain came without warning.One moment, Serena Vale was shelving books behind the counter of the sea-worn shop tucked at the edge of the Sicilian coast. The next, the sky split in half with a boom of thunder, and a curtain of water blurred the glass windows. Wind howled through the crevices of the old stone building. She barely flinched. Storms were common in late spring, and she rather liked them—how the gray clouds swallowed the world whole, how the streets emptied out and left the town breathing quietly, like it had secrets of its own.She returned to the antique shelf, fingers tracing the leather spines of books older than she was. Her quiet life was wrapped in things like these: salt-soaked air, warm espresso at sunrise, evenings in silence. And it suited her. At least, that’s what she told herself.A bell rang above the door.Serena straightened, brushing dust from her skirt. “We’re about to close,” she called toward the entrance without looking.Silence.She frowned and turn

The storm didn’t stop. By morning, the skies had sunk into an unbroken gray, heavy with rain and silence. Serena sat by the window in her chambers, fingers resting on the old leather ledger. She hadn't slept. Not after what she’d read. “Matteo owes me a life.” The words refused to fade from her mind. They weren’t just ominous. They were personal. Raw. Handwritten by her father. A message never meant for her—but left behind like a ghost. And Matteo… he had lied. Again. Not directly. But in that carefully controlled way he spoke, always balancing threat and charm, power and restraint. Every answer he gave was an edited truth. Every silence, a blade held to the throat of something deeper. She needed to confront him. But not as a girl desperate for answers. As a woman with a right to know the truth. --- She found him where she didn’t expect him to be—in the chapel. The villa’s private cathedral sat on a hill behind the eastern courtyard, veiled in ivy and silence. She

The bruises on Serena’s palms had already begun to fade, but the ache in her chest hadn’t.It wasn’t the gunfire. It wasn’t the blood or the knowledge that someone had tried to kill her.It was Matteo.The way he’d looked at her when she was bleeding.The way he’d killed for her—again.And the way, even now, as she sat in the warm light of the library, she couldn’t stop thinking about the warmth of his hand against hers, or the way his voice had lowered when he said he’d burn the estate down before letting harm touch her again.He was not a good man.But he was a dangerous one who was beginning to make her feel something she didn’t know how to name.And that made her terrified.---She didn’t expect to see him that night.Dinner had passed in silence—delivered by Mara with no explanation. She thought he might have gone to handle the fallout from the attack. Maybe interrogate another informant. Maybe bury another body.But just after midnight, the door to her chambers opened without wa

Serena Vale had never been particularly skilled at lying. Until now. Now, lies sat beneath her tongue like sugar—necessary and sharp, coating each word she spoke with the taste of something hidden. She’d become fluent in the art of silence. Of passing by guards without being noticed. Of slipping into restricted halls with quiet, calculated grace. She was no longer just Matteo De Luca’s captive bride. She was her father’s daughter. And her mother’s, too. Even if she didn’t want to be. --- The investigation began two nights after Matteo gave her the truth. He’d gone to Naples to meet with southern allies. She was left behind, for her safety. But Serena had no interest in safety. She wanted answers. She waited until the guards shifted on rotation. Mara had retired early, and the eastern wing of the estate—where all physical archives and security tapes were stored—was left quiet, humming beneath soft amber lights. She picked the lock with a hairpin. She became

Geneva was cold.Not in the way that scraped the skin, but in the way that settled in the bones. It was a city too pristine, too quiet. Beneath the polished streets and mirrored lakes, secrets moved like smoke. Serena found it soulless and boring.And Serena Vale was done hiding from hers.The jet touched down under a slate sky, the Alps in the distance like watchful giants. A black car waited on the tarmac. Matteo stepped out first, hand on his gun before his foot even hit the ground.He never stopped checking doors, scanning rooftops, watching shadows.But today, it wasn’t his enemies he feared.It was what Serena might discover.---They didn’t speak on the drive.She stared out the window, her reflection warped by the glass, while Matteo made calls in clipped Italian. He was wearing black again. Always black. Always armor.But she could feel the difference in him.He hadn’t touched her since the night on the terrace. Hadn’t kissed her again. As if he was afraid that if he did, she