All Chapters of Forbidden By Her Mafia Stepbrother : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The afternoon sun beat down on her as she navigated the busy city sidewalks. The dress bag was heavy and awkward, bumping against her legs with every step. But as she walked, the physical exhaustion faded into a quiet, heavy loneliness.She passed by a group of college students—girls laughing loudly with their friends, boys carrying heavy backpacks. Viola watched them, her violet eyes filled with quiet longing. She had been homeschooled her entire life, kept locked away in the estate while Vanessa got to go to school, make friends, and live normally. What did it feel like to just laugh on the sidewalk with a friend?She shook her head, forcing her eyes back to the pavement. It didn't matter. She was getting married to Giovanni Belladonna. She was already living in a quiet kind of hell in her stepfather's house, but she knew deep down that after marrying that man... she was not going to survive. She wouldn't survive him.Her mind drifted to the morning before. Sebastian’s words echoed

The deafening bass of the club vibrated straight through Viola’s thin heels and into her bones.She stood paralyzed at the edge of the VVIP booth. Giovanni Belladonna stared at her through the haze of cigar smoke, his creeping green eyes slowly taking in the short, tight black dress her mother had forced her to wear.A slow, terrifying smile spread across his face. He patted the empty space on the leather sofa directly beside him."Come sit," he ordered smoothly.Viola’s legs felt like heavy lead. Every instinct in her body screamed to run back down the glass stairs, but she forced herself forward, taking a stiff seat beside him. She kept as much distance as she could, her knees pressed tightly together, her hands gripping her own thighs to stop them from shaking.Giovanni leaned in closer. The strong smell of alcohol and smoke rolled off him."You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear it over the music. His eyes slowly dragged do

The alcohol hit her empty stomach with devastating speed.Within minutes, the flashing strobe lights of the club smeared into blinding streaks of neon. The heavy bass thumped so hard it rattled against Viola’s ribs, making her violently nauseous. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing a trembling hand to her forehead to stop the room from spinning."Hey, Gio."The voice belonged to the man with the slicked-back hair and the gold chain—the one who had just called her a freak. Viola opened her heavy eyes as he leaned across the sticky table."Let me take her for a spin on the floor," the man slurred, gesturing toward Viola with his cigar. "See if the little weirdo can dance."Giovanni didn't even look at her. He just took a sip of his whiskey and waved his hand lazily. "Go ahead. Bring her back when you're done."Viola’s heart launched into a frantic rhythm. "No," she whispered quickly, pressing herself deeper into the leather sofa. "No, please. I feel sick. I just want to go home."Giova

"Are you afraid of me, dulzura?" he asked, a quiet amusement bleeding into his rough voice.Viola blinked. She nodded instantly, like a child.Then she paused. She squinted at his face, her drunk brain slowly processing the question. Slowly, she shook her head.Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"Viola looked at him. The heavy buzz of alcohol made everything feel slow and heavy, but the answer in her head was clear."Because you always come," she whispered simply.Sebastian went still.For a long moment, he just looked at her. The quiet, innocent words caught him off guard, cutting straight through his defenses. He stared at her flushed face.A low, quiet laugh left his lips. The rough sound vibrated directly against her palms where they rested on his chest.Viola narrowed her eyes at him. Why is he laughing?She stared at the sharp lines of his face. Without the cold, terrifying mask he usually wore, with that quiet laugh escaping him, he didn't look frightening anymore. He didn'

Viola pushed her bedroom door shut, her breathing coming in fast, shallow gasps.Her chest tightened with panic. She needed to do something. She couldn't just sit here and wait for the wedding to ruin her life. Dropping straight to her knees beside the bed, her fingernails dug into the edge of the loose floorboard, prying it up with desperate force. She reached into the dark, dusty space and pulled out a small, taped envelope.She dumped the contents onto the floor. A pathetic pile of faded bills and heavy coins scattered across the wood.Her hands shook violently as she smoothed out the paper money. She counted it, her lips moving silently. She counted it again. A quiet, frustrated cry slipped past her lips as she stared at the floor. It wasn’t enough. It wasn't even enough to survive a single week on her own.If she ran, she had nowhere to go. She didn't have friends, she didn't know the train routes, and she didn't know how to hide. Giovanni’s men would track her down in a matter o