Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Mafia’s Obsession : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Alexandria’s POVI ran.My bare feet pounded against the cold marble floor of the corridor, heart hammering so hard it felt like it would crack my ribs. Matteo’s voice had cracked on that single word—*Romano*—in a way I’d never heard before. Not the cold command I knew so well. Not even the raw fury after the Rossi attack. This was something deeper. Broken.I skidded around the corner into Giulia’s suite, breath catching in my throat.Matteo stood in the center of the room, back to me, shoulders rigid like coiled steel. Romano was on his knees in front of him, blood trickling from a split lip and a fresh cut above his eye. Matteo’s stolen gun lay on the floor a few feet away. Romano’s hands were raised, but that same eerie, knowing smile still twisted his mouth.“You found me,” Romano said, voice thick with blood. “Took you long enough.”Matteo’s fist flew without warning. The crack of knuckles against bone echoed sickeningly. Romano’s head snapped to the side, but he only laughed—a w

My fingers trembled as I pressed them harder against the ragged bullet wound in Matteo’s shoulder. Blood seeped between them, warm and relentless, staining my skin and the remnants of my clothes. The air in Giulia’s suite was thick with the metallic scent of violence, the sharp bite of gunpowder, and the lingering musk of our desperate coupling. My body still hummed from the way he’d taken me—brutal, claiming, necessary. Yet my heart felt like it was fracturing into a thousand jagged pieces.Matteo stared down at the phone in his hand, his dark eyes hollow with a pain I’d never witnessed in him before. The video of Giulia—bruised but regal, carrying Drago’s twins—had gutted him. And the flatline threat hanging over everything made my stomach twist with nausea.“We have fifty minutes,” he said, voice hoarse. He cupped my face with his uninjured hand, thumb smearing blood across my cheek. His touch was rough but reverent, like I was the last fragile thing in his crumbling empire. “I sho

I woke to the taste of copper and the steady beep of machines. My head throbbed like someone had split it open, and my neck burned where Priya’s needle had pierced the skin. The room was dim, unfamiliar—stone walls, heavy velvet drapes, the faint scent of old wine and antiseptic. Not the penthouse. Not the Bellini Estate.My eyes fluttered open. Matteo.He sat slumped in a chair beside the bed, wrists bound to the arms, head hanging forward. Blood crusted his dark hair, his shirt was shredded and soaked through. But he was breathing. Alive.“Matteo,” I croaked, trying to sit up. My arm screamed where Priya’s bullet had grazed it, and my body felt heavy, drugged.His head snapped up instantly. Those dark eyes—usually so cold and commanding—flooded with raw, devastating relief. “Alexandria.” His voice was wrecked, barely a whisper. “Thank God. I thought I lost you.”Tears stung my eyes as the memories crashed back: the gunfire, Priya’s betrayal, my father’s body jerking, Giulia’s scream

The warehouse smelled of spilled wine, gunpowder, and fear. My body still trembled from the raw, desperate way Matteo had claimed me on the wine-soaked floor—our bodies moving together like the world was ending, because it might have been. Now Drago stood in the shattered doorway like death itself, Renata at his side with a cold, calculated smile. Fresh armed men fanned out behind them, guns trained on us.Matteo shoved me behind a stack of barrels, his broad back a shield once again. Blood dripped from his reopened wounds, but his stance was pure predator—shoulders squared, jaw clenched, gun steady in his hand. “Stay down,” he ordered, voice low and lethal, but I heard the crack of terror beneath it. Terror for me. For the life growing inside me. For the fragile thing we’d built in the middle of hell.“You’re finished, Bellini,” Drago said calmly, stepping forward. “The Albanians control the ports. Your wife—soon-to-be ex—has already signed over the rest. And Alexandria…” His eyes sl

The world returned in fragments—sharp pain in my side, the metallic taste of blood, the rumble of tires on gravel. My hands were zip-tied in front of me, wrists raw. I was slumped in the back seat of a sleek black SUV, Priya pressed against one side of me, my father on the other. Both looked as broken as I felt.Matteo.The memory hit like a bullet to the chest. The way he’d dropped to his knee, blood on his lips, those dark eyes locking on mine with final, devastating love. “I love you. Both of them are ours.” Then the gunshot. The flames rising behind us as we sped away.A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it.“Easy, kiddo,” my father murmured, voice hoarse. “He might still be alive. Bellini’s too stubborn to die easy.”I wanted to scream at him. This man who had slept with Giulia, fathered a child in secret, sold me like currency, and still tried to play hero. Instead, I turned my head away, staring out the window at the burning warehouse shrinking in the distance.Lorenz