Lahat ng Kabanata ng Betrayed By My Sister, Claimed By The Mafia King: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

The city felt different that evening.Alessia couldn’t explain it, but the moment she stepped out of the car, something inside her shifted. The air felt heavier, thicker somehow, like it carried something unseen.She adjusted her coat slightly as she stepped onto the pavement, her heels clicking softly against the ground. The street was alive with quiet movement. People walking. Cars passing. Conversations blending into a distant hum.Normal.Everything looked normal.And yet…Her eyes moved carefully, taking in her surroundings. Since the previous day, she had become more aware. More alert.Marcello’s voice echoed in her mind.I don’t trust the world.She exhaled slowly.Two guards stood nearby, just as arranged. Not too close, not too far. She had insisted on space, and Marcello had allowed it, reluctantly.This was her compromise.Her freedom.Even if it came with invisible strings.“I’ll only be a few minutes,” she said, glancing at one of the guards.He nodded once.Alessia turne

Dear readers, I can hardly believe how far we’ve come together. From the very first chapter of Alessia’s journey, through the twists of betrayal, suspense, and the slow burn of love, you have been there every step of the way. Your messages, your excitement, your theories, and your emotional reactions have carried this story further than I could have imagined. Every comment, every share, every heartbeat you’ve experienced alongside Alessia and Marcello has meant the world to me. I want to take this moment to thank you for your incredible support from Part 1 onward. You welcomed Alessia into your hearts, felt her heartbreak when trust was broken, and rejoiced in the moments she found courage, strength, and the first sparks of love with Marcello. You watched her navigate a world of power, danger, and betrayal, and you did it with her—laughing, crying, and sometimes holding your breath alongside her. That connection is why I write: to create characters who feel real, whose emotions reson

The room was too quiet.Not the kind of quiet that brought peace.The kind that pressed in on you. The kind that made every small sound feel too loud, too sharp.Alessia sat beside the bed, her fingers still wrapped around Marcello’s hand, as if letting go—even for a second—might undo everything they had fought to keep.Machines hummed softly in the background.Steady.Rhythmic.Proof that he was still here.But it wasn’t enough.Not when his eyes remained closed.Not when his body, usually so full of controlled strength, lay still in a way that didn’t feel natural.Not when he wasn’t speaking.Not when he wasn’t looking at her.“You always fill a room,” she whispered softly, her voice breaking the silence. “Even when you’re quiet… you still do.”Her thumb brushed lightly over his knuckles.Cool.But alive.She exhaled slowly, leaning back slightly in the chair.“I don’t like this version of you,” she admitted. “It’s… too quiet.”Her lips pressed together as emotion threatened to rise

The estate didn’t sleep that night.It breathed differently.Heavier.Sharper.Like something dangerous had been awakened and was no longer pretending to rest.Alessia stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection, but not really seeing it.Not the dress she wore.Not the faint bruising still visible along her wrist.Not even the exhaustion that lingered beneath her eyes.All she could see was the shift.The girl who had once hesitated was gone.In her place stood someone quieter.Colder.More certain.Behind her, the door opened.She didn’t turn immediately.She didn’t need to.She felt him.Marcello’s presence filled the room even now, even injured, even not at full strength.It rolled in slowly, controlled, undeniable.“You’re still here,” he said.His voice was stronger tonight.Not fully recovered.But closer.Closer to the man who commanded rooms without raising his voice.Alessia met his gaze in the mirror.“I said I wasn’t going anywhere.”His eyes moved over her car

Morning came too quickly. Not because Alessia had slept well. But because she hadn’t slept at all. Every time she closed her eyes, the same images returned. The gun. The sound. The sharp, violent crack that still echoed somewhere in her chest. The feeling of her hands pushing Marcello out of the way without thinking. The realization, only seconds later, of what she had done. Of how easily it could have gone wrong. Her body had chosen before her mind could catch up. And now… there was no undoing that instinct. She stood in the training room long before anyone else arrived, the cool marble floor grounding her bare feet. The room was quiet, but not peaceful. It held a different kind of silence. One that felt intentional. One that felt like preparation. Like something was about to change. She exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders, trying to release the tension that had settled deep into her muscles. But it didn’t leave. Because this wasn’t just physical. This was so