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| 99 | Love Is Patient
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Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 100 | Hurt And Missing You
[ S E R A P H I N E ] It's almost seven in the evening. I'm standing right beside the halls, a few rows away from the noisy crowd, my cap and gown crisp and new. The ceremony is over. Finally. Time to take pictures. Time to mingle with friends and family. My parents are somewhere nearby. I think I hear my mom laughing with Alina. Daddy Raffy's probably outside and on his phone again with one of his needy patients. They were taking pictures with Victoria by the booths when I excused myself. They're probably gossiping about me and Dom. Or chatting about the event and the guest speaker who's an alumni and now a successful investment banker. Victoria's my nicest classmate and the new friend I've made just months ago. It's a day to remember. My special day. Yet my heart feels heavier. More hopeless. I massage my temple and take a deep breath. I just wanna get out of here. Go back to the hotel and pack the rest of my stuff. But I don't want my parents to notice my crappy mood.
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 101 | Looking Forward
[ S E R A P H I N E ] Oh, heck no. He actually knows everything now? About Dominico and our arrangement? About that chapel wedding? About Ignazio and... Ugh! My mother's such a blabbermouth! “She told me over the phone.” Pierre smirks and combs his short brown hair with his fingers. “Wanted to ring you earlier. I got busy with a deposition, then a slew of meetings. And I knew you'd be busy prepping.” I don't move. I don't even wanna look at his face. While my heart and stomach tense up, I just stare at the maroon carpet leading to the front of the stage. My face feels kinda numb. Will he follow me? If I run back to the restroom to lock myself up in one of the stalls, will Pierre try to stop me? Or he'll just think I've totally lost it? Probably. I don't wanna throw up in these heels and my camera-ready makeup and attire. But I might. “Stop making excuses for him, and stop feeling sorry.” Pierre’s expression and tone darken slightly. “You don't have to feel bad for him.” “I'm
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 102 | Did You Miss Me?
[ D O M I N I C O ] “Ricchar said you weren't too thrilled to be there.” “I didn’t stir up any beef with 'em. Relax.” I switch the call to speaker, my other hand covering my stinging eyes. “I even helped his cousin.” “Help Maxim? With what?” Enzo mutters on the other end. “Steer clear of Leandro's little army of nutjobs.” Considering I barely know the guy and betrayed my own flesh and blood twice, I can say I’ve done my part. I'm done proving to the new Falco empire's successors that I'm no threat. “Maximiliano's not a problem. He hates Stefano. Always been loyal to Ricchar. And smart enough to stay out of your dad and Leandro's mess,” Enzo says with a quick sigh. “At least he's not another greedy, depraved asshole.” I'm not fully convinced, but I'm too drained to argue. Trust is a fragile commodity in our world, but if Enzo doesn't hate Maximiliano Falco despite their ongoing rivalry because of Enzo's new love interest, I’ll give the guy the benefit of the doubt—for now.
Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V] | 103 | We're Not Over
[ S E R A P H I N E ]Why can't he just trust my word? After everything, does he actually still think I can't be trusted?I wanna scream and throw up. I feel like running for the door. I just want to leave this city. And hide.From him. From everyone. From the entire world. I just don't know how much more of this I can take. But I can't. I shouldn't. We need to resolve this now. Whatever this is to him. And I owe him too much to just walk out on him without making an effort. Without giving either of us the chance to hash out our issues once and for all.“Who told you to give me money?” Dominico squints and cocks his head, his expression showing a tinge of annoyance.“I owe you at least eighty-five thousand. Bills, tuition, allowances, daily expenses...”“When did I ever tell you to pay the bills?” The skin between his brows and beside his eyes crease more. He sounds like he's already having a hard time reining in his anger.But it's something I expected. I deserve it and probably wor
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
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