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| 103 | We're Not Over
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Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 104 | Divorce
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Compete?” I scoff, my fists clenched. I feel like shouting. Hitting something. Kicking the wall. Throwing something out the window and... Is he serious? Is he never going to admit he's also been cheating? Maybe not physically. Yet. But emotionally? And with his ex-wife, of all people? For sure. Shit. I so want to punch him in the face right now. But I don't want my first mug shot taken with all these zits still on my face. I blame stress, cortisol, and this jerk who tried to get me pregnant out of wedlock. But mostly him. “There is no competition, Dominico! What the fuck are you even saying? I didn't get back with him! Okay? I never cheated on you! How many times do I have to say it?” “The way you act around him, the way you treat him... It doesn't say the same.” “Because he's my friend, and he actually cares about my wellbeing.” “So you come running to him every time we're having issues and tell him you think you're pregnant but not me?” He scoffs a
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 105 | Restart
[ S E R A P H I N E ] This hotel room needs a break. From us, specifically. An hour-long deep clean at the very least. Makeup kits and hair ties lie scattered on the nightstands and the dresser. Socks and towels on the covers. Half-packed suitcases. Heels and sneakers by the closet. Wrinkled clothes on the covers... They're just like my thoughts and the emotions fighting for my focus. Messy. Close to unmanageable. The steady patter of rain against the windows does little to reverse the somber vibes. “Nap if you don't feel like cleaning up. I'll finish this up.” Bunching up her long blonde hair into a bun, Alina steps around the bed. She resumes folding clothes into her suitcase with a steady focus that I kinda envy. Her movements are precise, more often than not efficient, as if packing up her life is just something she does without a second thought. I, on the other hand, still struggle to let go of every item I touch. Each one reminds me of the life I'm leaving behind.
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 106 | Love Is Not Always Patient
[ D O M I N I C O ] “I heard Rosalind’s about to be charged.” “With what?” I reply to the last person I want to deal with today. I'm sitting across from him with my glass of wine still untouched beside my plate. Suited up and clean-shaven, Pierre D'Ambrosi looks every bit the polished attorney his yuppie parents boast about, but there's a wariness in his eyes as he looks at me across the table. Unlike the last time we were in a dining establishment, I don't feel like bashing his face in with my bare fists tonight. But I didn't waste time on pleasantries, either. And I'm almost relieved that he's already dropping the small talk we’ve barely begun. I don't have the patience or the time. I can't waste another hour doing jack shit. Waste the rest of my night out here. And with this guy, of all people. Pierre lifts his wine glass. “Same charges as your father's—money laundering, racketeering. Heard anything about that?” “Just speculations.” “Ah.” He takes a sip of his dr
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 107 | The New Heir
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It must be the new job. Moving into another apartment. The big adjustments I'm being forced to make. And constantly stressing over my growing list of deadlines. Or the fact that my brain's not letting me sleep much lately because of my lying, duplicitous, manipulative ex number two who's not even making an effort. Or it's all of the above. Probably. “Serves you right.” I sigh and keep my eyes closed, burying my face in my pale, clammy hands. I lean against the door to the backseat as the sun heats the top of my head. My neck feels strained more than usual. My vision's kind of foggy. Crap. I need a bed. Pronto. Or a stretcher, at some point. My legs and arms feel like they're tired of having bones. “Shoot. Crap.” Pierre's cellphone is now lying between my boots. I didn't mean to drop it. Ugh. I hope I didn't crack anything. I pick up his phone and slide it into my pocket. Calling Dominico is my last resort, but I might have to try. Just thinking of
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 108 | Breakups And Screwups
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “How much?” “About half.” I squint at Pierre as I sit across from him, trying to look normal, keeping my hands steady as I pick at the food on my plate. It's not a lot. This pesky nausea has been messing with my appetite since Friday. “Just a little above four hundred. ” “Good. Half's paid off and it's not goin' up.” Pierre sighs briefly, sounding genuinely relieved by my answer. “Dad sorted out the principal with his inheritance. I mean, what's left of it.” Thanks to my grandparents, rest their generous souls, my parents are no longer that worried about the bank loans. I still think most of the Tomassinis are too greedy to be offering business loans to small-to-medium enterprises. But it's not like I can turn back time and undo all of my parents' poor financial decisions. “And Dominico told you Ignazio no longer co-owns the bank. Correct?” “His nephew owns most of his shares now.” Pierre leans back and stares at me while staining his fork with th
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 109 | Stop Hiding From Me
[ S E R A P H I N E ] While Pierre is alone at the bar taking care of the bill and finishing his drink, I unlock his convertible and get in the passenger seat. I toss my phone on top of the dashboard. Then I pull a few napkins from the glove compartment. I blow my nose, the back of my head on the headrest, my eyes closed. Sheesh. I'm done. I have no more tears left in me. I'm just spent. Exhausted. Oddly, some part of me feels at peace. Ugh. Great... Now I'm just an emotional dumpster fire. Darn this. I don't know what to tell Dominico. The heck do I even say? “Hi. I hope you're okay?” or “I'm still miserable. How's everything?” Crap. This is gonna be the most awkward phone call ever. I don't even know if he's gonna pick up after he realizes it's me calling. Do I miss him? A lot. Do I want to hear his voice again? Of course. Do I need him and his sympathy? Yes and yes. But do I trust my feelings right now? Not exactly. I can't put this off another day. Or anoth
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 110 | No More Hide And Seek
[ S E R A P H I N E ] I can't believe he's here already. Here in my new workplace, especially. Who told him exactly where I am and where I work? Pierre? Or Dominico hired a private investigator to find me? Not farfetched at all, knowing his connections. “Three months and two days.” Dominico closes the door behind him, his brows and forehead creasing. “I'm done.” Shoot. No escaping this now. I toss my phone on my messy desk and sigh, my throat and chest growing tighter by the second. Just the look on his face... Darn. It hurts. The guilt's eating at me again, practically clawing under my skin. Although he looks like he hasn't slept for days, he still looks well-groomed. A bit too dressed up for an impromptu "dinner date". Still manly everywhere despite his longer hair. Given his bigger list of responsibilities, I understand why he hasn't found the time to get a haircut. I like it, though. It reminds me of the very first time I bumped into him at the country club. A year
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 111 | Ties That Bind
[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Really sorry, guys. Forgot to cut the meeting short.” I kiss my father on the cheek while he gives me a hug. “It's fine, Dad. We just got here, like, twenty minutes ago.” Daddy Raffy scratches the side of his head, ruffling the gray hairs above his ears. Wearing an old polo shirt and khaki pants, he smiles at us as Dom shakes his hand. I put on a big smile for him and my mom who's now putting rice on Daddy's plate. “Told Dom not to drive too fast.” “You left Boniventura around nine?” “Opo, Tito.” [Yes, Uncle.] Dom steps away from Dad. “Sephie said you called for a staff meeting.” “Yes. Took longer than I expected. Our new accountants are fastidious, to say the least.” Daddy Raffy chuckles and takes the empty seat beside my mom. “Good that you didn't get stuck in the rush hour traffic.” “Not really.” I give Dominico a small smile when our gazes meet. I'm still nervous and not too excited about this late dinner with my parents, but I'm relieved that th
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