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#Chapter 75: Bad Ending
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My Mafia Mate #Chapter 76: Homesick
EllaSobs shook my body and tears blurred my vision as I cradled my chafed wrists, the ropes having left their brutal imprint.Each throb was a piercing reminder of the dark ordeal I had just survived. God, why did I take the subway tonight? Why didn’t I call an Uber, or even call Logan to take me home after the work party?
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 77: Not Alone
EllaThe evening shadows stretched long and dark across my apartment’s hardwood floor, a stark contrast to the flickering yellow street light outside that threw mottled patterns on the dark brick walls of my apartment.The fragrant scent of the lavender candle I always had lit hung in the air despite the fact that I hadn’t lit it yet today, but either way, its calming effects seemed los
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 78: Trust in You
EllaIn Logan’s embrace, the world felt distant. All the fears and anxieties seemed momentarily shrouded by the warmth of his presence.But as we separated, the weight of the spilled wine on the hardwood floor brought a sudden, albeit misplaced, urgency to the atmosphere. The dark liquid spread lazily between the shards of glass, forming an ominous pool that mirrored my tumultuous emotions.
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 79: Safehouse
EllaIn the dim lighting of my apartment, with the memory of spilt wine still fresh, Logan’s face wore an expression I hadn’t seen before—gentle persuasion edged with determination.“Ella,” he began, his voice hushed yet demanding attention, “I understand that trust has become a rare commodity for you. But remember when you asked me to trust you? I did. I told you about my mother. Now, I’m asking you to do the same.”
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 80: The Whistler
LoganThe air in the room was thick with tension as I strode in, my gaze fixated on the man I had trusted the most—James, my chief bodyguard and the one person who I put in charge of keeping an eye on Ella all those weeks ago when I found out about the men who harassed her in the park.There were moments in life where words weren’t required to convey the depth of one’s anger, and this was one of those moments. My face, I knew, was an open book of seething fury.
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 81: Straight to the Heart
EllaThe shadows on the ceiling seemed to sway and dance as I lay on the plush bed, the soft linens providing little comfort to my restless mind. Each tick of the ornate clock on the wall reverberated in my ears, amplifying my rising anxiety.But it was the silence that was the loudest of all, the quiet punctuated only by my shallow breaths.
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 82: Steal Away
EllaI lingered in the opulent sitting room, Mrs. Wentworth’s words still fresh in my mind. The soft glow of the chandeliers painted the room in a warm amber hue, casting shadows over the lavish sofas and intricate tapestries that adorned the walls.I couldn’t shake off the growing unease bubbling within me. Logan had been gone for hours, and every tick of the ornate grandfather clock h
My Mafia Mate #Chapter 83: Unspoken Words
EllaAfter cleaning and dressing Logan’s wound, I sat back, studying his face for any sign of discomfort. The room was still, save for the quiet rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Warm light from the garage lamps washed over us from above, casting a soft glow that etched out the angles and curves of his face.I never thought that I would find a garage comforting, but something about this place made me feel warm and surprisingly safe.
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