All Chapters of The Mafia King’s Fake Widow: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

33 Chapters

11. Hidden Alliances

Evie exhaled slowly, forcing herself back into focus. This was real. This was danger. Not whatever that was between her and Kael. She backed toward the door, gripping the note tighter. “Leave now, or you’ll join Kael in the grave.” Her jaw tightened. “Yeah,” she muttered under her breath. “Not happening.” Her fingers moved almost instinctively to the locket beneath her pajama collar. She hesitated. Just for a second. A flicker of last night crossing her mind—his voice. Too close. Too intimate. Too much. Her expression hardened. Then she pressed the button. “Someone broke in,” Evie said, her tone sharper than usual. “My room’s trashed. There’s a note. Threatening me.” “Are you hurt?” Kael asked. Evie blinked. The question caught her off guard. “No. I’m fine.” Silence stretched. Different this time. Not charged. Not intimate. Just… careful. “Security is already on its way,” Kael said. “Thorne’s protocols. Don’t touch anything.” Evie let out a short breath. “Alread

12. POISONED TRUST

The locket against her skin pulsed faintly, warm—alive.“Say no.” Kael’s voice came immediately. Low. Controlled. Too controlled.Evie didn’t answer. Her fingers traced the edge of the invitation instead, slower this time, as if she could feel something underneath the paper—something unspoken. Or maybe she was just buying time.“It’s a setup,” he continued. “Victoria doesn’t invite people to dinner unless she plans to gain something from it.”A faint smile curved her lips. “Like you?”“That’s different.”Evie let out a quiet breath. “Is it?”She stepped toward the mirror, her reflection catching her eye. Composed. Calm. Untouched. Like nothing had happened.Like that night hadn’t existed.“Don’t go,” Kael said again.Evie tilted her head slightly, still looking at her reflection. “You’re very good at giving orders.”“I’m not ordering you.”“No,” she murmured. “You’re just… deciding what’s best for me.”“That’s not what this is.”Her gaze finally shifted. “Then what is it?”Silence. An

13. Drained

Kael’s fingers trembled slightly over the edge of the console, though he didn’t let it show. Not to anyone. Not even himself.He watched her, glass in hand, poised like she was in some deadly ballet, her calm demeanor masking the danger flowing through the liquid she’d just swallowed.“Damn it,” he muttered beneath the mask. His voice, low, sharp, jagged with a frustration he rarely let surface.Every heartbeat thudded through him like a drum. Her pulse. His pulse. The ticking of the crystal clock somewhere in the dining room. Everything synchronized in a rhythm he wanted to break, to control—but couldn’t.Then it happened.Evie faltered. Just slightly. Her hand wavered, lips parted. Damien’s hand brushed hers—not accidental. He leaned in, his presence predatory, and in that split second, Kael felt it—the absolute loss of control he usually wielded like a blade.The pulse in his throat jumped.He saw Damien steady her as she almost collapsed.The bastard held her, his arm brushing aga

14. Gala Night: Controlled Fire

Evie stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing her skin, but it did nothing to calm the fire already burning in her chest. Her phone trembled slightly in her hand. Bank app. Fifty million. Gone. Gone. Her breath hitched. She pressed her palm to the locket. Warm. Alive. Insistent. Its pulse echoed her own panic. “Kael…” Her voice trembled. “Someone… took everything.” “Relax,” his voice came immediately through the locket. “I’ll replace it. Every cent.” She laughed, bitter and sharp. “Replace it? Do you even understand? Fifty million—my life, my plans—gone! And you just say… replace it?” “I said I’ll handle it,” Kael replied, calm but with a hint of tension. “No one can touch what’s mine… or yours.” “Don’t tell me what’s mine!” she snapped. “Don’t tell me what matters!” Her fingers clenched on the locket. “You weren’t here when it happened. You weren’t here when Damien—” Her voice caught. She swallowed. “When he touched me! Kael, I don’t like that. I don’t wa

15. Gala Spicy Night

Kael slammed the door of the ancient library in the mansion's west wing. "What is this, Kael?!" Evie’s voice cracked. "You think you can just drag me around like I’m some piece of property?!" Kael remained silent, his back to her. His breathing heavy. "Answer me!" Evie stepped forward, her trembling hands grabbing Kael’s shoulder, forcing him to turn. "Earlier you told me to stay away! You said I was a nuisance! So now, when I try to give you what you want—when I let Damien get close so I can finally disappear from your world—why are you angry?!" "Because you have no idea what game you’re playing, Evelyn," Kael hissed. "I know exactly what I'm doing!" Evie screamed. "I’m playing the role you gave me! The doll, right? The girl who needs protection, whose money is gone, whose future is ruined, and who must bow to her 'savior' who doesn't even have the courage to show his face!" She struck his chest with her small but powerful fists. Once, twice. "I hate how you look at me lik

16. The Steel Fortress

Evie sat rigid in the backseat, the taste of Kael’s savage kiss still burning on her lips, her silk dress torn at the shoulder from their earlier struggle. She hadn’t spoken a word since sliding into the car. Neither had he. The silence between them was thicker than the blood still drying on her skin from his earlier wound. She reached for the door handle the moment the car stopped in the underground garage. “I can walk myself—” The first shot cracked before she could finish. Glass exploded inches from her face. The rear window shattered in a glittering storm, shards raining across the leather seats. Evie screamed, but the sound was swallowed by Kael’s body slamming into hers. He drove her down hard, shielding her completely with his frame as a second silenced bullet ricocheted off the armored panel with a metallic whine. The third shot found its mark—tearing straight through his left shoulder with a wet, sickening thud. She felt it. The violent jerk of his muscles, th

17. Vulnerable Shadows

Evie sat on the edge of the mattress. Her ruined silk dress long replaced by soft black leggings and one of Kael’s oversized shirts. The fabric still carried his scent. His skin was scalding. The fever had climbed steadily through the night, despite the antibiotics she had forced down his throat from the emergency kit. She had changed the bandages three times already. “You stupid, stubborn man,” she whispered, brushing damp strands of hair from the edge of the mask he still refused to remove. “You took a bullet for me and now you’re fighting me from the inside too.” A low groan escaped his lips. His head turned restlessly on the pillow. The monitors beeped softly—heart rate elevated, temperature 39.8°C. Evie reached for the syringe of fever reducer, but before she could administer it, Kael’s voice broke through the haze, raw and fractured. “Father… no more.” The words hit her like ice water. She froze, cloth dripping onto his chest. “Don’t… lock the door again.” His breat

18. The Awakening

Evie stood for a split second, smoothing Kael’s shirt over her leggings, her heart performing a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She looked at her hands, they were clean, but she could still feel the phantom heat of his fevered skin. Click. She turned the heavy brass lock just as the locksmith’s tool touched the external cylinder. The door swung open to reveal Victoria Voss, draped in charcoal silk, her face a mask of aristocratic fury. Behind her stood two security guards and a confused-looking man holding a leather tool kit. "Evelyn," Victoria hissed. "Explain this theatrical isolation immediately." Evie didn't flinch. She leaned against the doorframe. "It’s called a migraine, Victoria. Or perhaps just the natural exhaustion of living in this house." Victoria stepped into the room, pushing past her with a scent of Chanel No. 5 and cold ambition. She began to pace the suite. “You’ve been 'indisposed' for twenty-four hours," Victoria noted. "This house feels... unbalanced."

19. The Midnight Inquest

*Knock. Knock. Knock.* The sound was not a polite request. It was an intrusion. It was a claw scratching at the lid of her coffin. "Evelyn? Open this door. Now." Victoria’s voice cut through the thick wood like a rusted blade. Evie’s heart lunged into her throat, hammering frantically against her ribs. She looked at Kael. "The panel," Kael hissed. "Hide the medical kit. Get in bed. Now, Evelyn." Evie scrambled. Her knees scraped against the heavy Persian rug as she shoved the blood-stained gauze, the antiseptic, and the suture threads under the mattress. Behind her, the mahogany panel behind the wardrobe slid shut with a soundless, oiled click. The wall became seamless once more, a solid barrier of wood concealing the man who was legally dead. She threw herself onto the massive four-poster bed, pulling the heavy silk duvet up to her chin. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, her throat dry with panic. She closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, forcing her racing pu

20. The Genetic Gambit

Victoria stood motionless, her silver robe shimmering like a blade. She wasn't just waiting for a sample; she was waiting for Evie to break. “Don't touch it,” Kael’s voice finally crackled in her earpiece, so low it was almost a growl. “Do not pick up that kit, Evelyn.” Evie’s hand, which had been hovering inches above the bed, froze. She looked up at Victoria, forcing her expression to shift from paralyzed terror to a mask of cold, regal indignation. "You want my DNA, Victoria?" Evie’s voice was a whisper, but it carried a razor-thin edge. "Or do you want to ensure that Kael’s child never breathes a word of his inheritance?" Victoria’s eyes narrowed. "I want the truth. Something you’ve been allergic to since the moment you stepped into this house." "The truth is that you are terrified," Evie said, slowly sliding her legs off the bed, her bare feet hitting the cold rug. She stood up, pulling her silk robe tight around her waist. "You are terrified that a woman you consider 'nothin

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