Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Mafia princess : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The club was all velvet shadows and hushed menace.Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, casting fractured light across polished tables, where men in tailored suits and too-bright smiles hid knives in their words.Jason led Emily through the room like a king through court, his hand firm on her back, his presence commanding silence. Eyes followed them. Not with admiration, with calculation.She wore black silk, her hair swept up, the diamond at her throat catching every glint of light. A queen, even if she didn’t feel it.“Sit,” Jason murmured, guiding her into the leather booth at his side. His arm stretched casually across the back of her chair, casual only in appearance. Emily felt the steel in his touch. A declaration: she’s mine.The rivals arrived moments later, the Marcellis, their smiles thin, their laughter sharp as broken glass. The table filled with wine, cigars, and false civility.Emily sat still, her hands clasped in her lap, as Jason spoke in that low, deliberate tone

The Moretti estate’s walls always seemed to hum with life at night, footsteps, murmured voices, the faint thrum of danger moving through its veins. But tonight felt different. Tonight, Emily felt those walls closing in.Jason hadn’t come to bed. Again.She woke to the cool emptiness of the sheets beside her and, after tossing restlessly for hours, rose. She padded through the hall in her silk robe, past the portraits of Jason’s ancestors glaring down at her like judges.When she reached the west wing, the air felt heavier, the silence too sharp. A door stood ajar at the end of the corridor, Jason’s office.Emily’s pulse quickened. She approached quietly, pushing the door just enough to peer inside.Jason was there. Standing by the desk, phone pressed to his ear, his expression cut into stone. “If they touch the shipment again, we burn their docks to the ground. No negotiations.”Her husband’s voice was low, lethal. And then, movement.From the corner of the room, Adriana emerged, as t

The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the dining hall, painting the long oak table in pale gold. Yet the air was far from warm. Emily stirred her coffee without drinking, her thoughts still tangled in Jason’s harsh words from the night before. Adriana slid into the seat beside her, silk dressing gown draping like royalty. She plucked a strawberry from the silver bowl and smiled sweetly. “You look tired, Em,” she said. “Did Jason keep you up? Or was it… something else?” Emily stiffened. Adriana leaned closer, her voice a purr. “You know, I saw you with Peter yesterday. The way he looked at you? Dangerous. You should be careful.” Emily blinked. “Peter saved my life.” “Yes. And what a lovely story that is.” Adriana’s smile sharpened. “But don’t be naïve, cousin. Men like Peter… they want what doesn’t belong to them. He’s always lived in Jason’s shadow. If he can’t have the empire, maybe he wants the wife.” Emily pushed back her chair, pulse racing. “That’s not t

The corridors of the Moretti estate felt like a labyrinth of whispers. Emily’s bare feet were silent against the marble as she followed the sound of laughter, a low, musical laugh she knew too well.Adriana.She found her in the drawing room, seated by the fire with a glass of wine in her hand. Silk clung to her frame, the flickering flames painting shadows across her face. She looked up when Emily entered, her smile sly, indulgent.“Well,” Adriana purred, “if it isn’t the dutiful wife.”Emily’s nails dug into her palms. “Enough games, Adriana. I want to know the truth.”Her cousin tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Truth about what?”“About you and Jason.” The words burned like acid on Emily’s tongue. “Everywhere I turn, you’re there. In his office. At his side. Always whispering. Always watching. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you haven’t…” Her voice broke. “Tell me you haven’t touched him.”For a moment, silence reigned. Then Adriana rose slowly, setting her glass aside. She crossed

Jason hadn’t slept. His eyes were bloodshot, his tie still knotted, his shirt rumpled. He sat in his office with a glass of whiskey untouched, papers scattered across the desk, a map of supply lines lit beneath a lamp.Adriana slipped in like smoke.“You’ll burn yourself out,” she said softly, her silk dress whispering against the floor. “And for what? For loyalty that isn’t returned?”Jason’s eyes lifted, sharp. “Leave.”But she didn’t. She came closer, pouring herself a drink from his decanter, her movements slow, deliberate.“She doubts you,” Adriana murmured, sipping. “She whispers with Peter when you’re not looking. You think your silence protects her, but all it does is push her into someone else’s arms.”Jason’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”“Don’t I?” Her voice was velvet, her gaze cutting. “You can’t even look at me and tell me it’s not true.”Jason’s hand curled into a fist. He hated her. He needed her. She was a poison he couldn’t purge from his