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Chapter 29: The Night That Should Have Been Boring
Last Updated:
2025-04-22 17:39:37
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Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 30: The Visitor, the Voice, and the Weight of Staying
The voice remained on.Low. Controlled. Familiar—and not."Leya…"A murmur—icy or gentle, neither. A sound that did not request requested not. It remained just so without her leave. Like a thread pulling at her beyond the door just so.Her own eyes dim with fever and exhaustion, she blinked, but sat up a little more in her backroom bed—a little.Her fists clenched in the blanket spread over her lap, thin blanket now buckler, a lifeline to something sacrosanct.> Who was it?They did not knock again.Didn't move.Stand there, long enough for her to catch her breath. Long enough for her to get a grip on this wasn't an accident.And then, nothing.Silent retreat.The footsteps were careful. Light. Measured.No creak of any door. No patter of feet.But tension at the table had changed.As if whatever had been listening to her.Had seen her.Had known her.-----And that was scaring her.Not by threat of harm which it had seemed to do before.But because it wasn't there.Because for the fi
Last Updated : 2025-04-22Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 31: What Shadows Know
The alley reeked of desperation and stale beer. Leya's shift had run past closing time—again. The night had crawled, but Reed had stayed with her an hour past closing to clean up a spilled drink and split tips. She didn't mind. The more hours she worked, the less she was herself. As if she were somebody else. Somebody free. Somebody who didn't owe the Blackwoods. And then the bar door slammed shut behind her and she was alone in the dark. Zipper up as far as it would go around her neck, purse on her shoulder, and still buzzing hands against sock lining—where tip envelope folded back warm along her ankle. One block down. Just one. Then— A scrape. Heavy feet, too heavy to be mistaken. She shook her head over it, looking back over her shoulder. Two black figures. Too close. Too close by design. Her heartbeat came a little quicker. Muttered voice in the distance. "Hey now… what's a fine-looking girl like you doing way out here by herself?" She stood for military attenti
Last Updated : 2025-04-22Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 32: Trust Is a Loaded Gun
Nathaniel was awake. Not that night. After he'd left Leya at the mansion, her silence armor, he'd headed to the east wing. Where the paintings were, where the button-down-bloke blokes with dead eyes in frames—false gods in frames. He didn't switch on the hall light. Didn't switch it on. The weight of her words fell behind him like footprints. I don't need saving, Nathaniel. I need respect. He stood beside the bed, suit jacket still buttoned, tie open but not yet undone. He gazed at the floor for what had to be minutes or maybe hours. He imagined Leya's bruised cheek. Imagine her shaking hands from exhaustion. Recall her eyes—not wide with terror, but level with fire. If she was a fake, then she was the family's finest work. But in a part of him, he knew she wasn't. Still… in the Blackwood house, believing wasn’t enough. You had to be certain. --- The Next Morning – Nathaniel’s Study The morning sun didn’t warm him. He made the call anyway. “St. Delacroix University,
Last Updated : 2025-04-23Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 33: The Visitor, the Voice, and the Weight of Staying
The voice continued. Soft. Tuned. Familiar—and otherwise. "Leya…" A breath—neither cold nor warm. Did not command, did not scold. Was. Like a stretched bowstring pulled taut behind her at her back. She blinked, sight blurring through fever and weariness, but her backbone firmed—beneath, a little. Her fingers clenched into a blanket on her lap, fine cloth now armor, her foothold in the world. > Who was it? They didn't knock the second time. Didn't stir. I just stood there long enough for her to regain her breath. Long enough for her to realize this hadn't been a mistake. And then, nothing. A withdrawal in silence. The steps light. Stealthy. Commanding. No squeak of the door. No sound of retreating feet. But the tension beyond had changed. As if something had looked at her. Listened to her. Comprehended her. And that had scared her. Not because it had threatened. But because it hadn't. Because for the first time in what had seemed like forever… Someone had said her
Last Updated : 2025-04-23Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 34: Whispered Warnings and the Echo of Rage
The whisper had stopped. But the silence that followed wasn't silence. It was charged. With purpose. With intent. Leya did not lie well once the voice had stopped—her body outstretched on the bed, back tense against the headboard, every hair on her arms bristling not due to fear, but due to awareness. Not every step is a threat. But there are warnings. And the one that had named her tonight. It hadn't been trying to scare her. It had been trying to communicate something. That she was still being watched. And perhaps—perhaps—that someone still cared that she was worth at least something. That cut deeper at her chest than splintered ribs. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, seething an angry glare at where the door had existed once in the darkness. Someone had whispered her name as if it still held meaning. And that was what disturbed her most. Because it meant there was someone in this house who still thought she was worth whispering about. And that? That m
Last Updated : 2025-04-24Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 35: Between Ambushes and Allies
The mansion fell softly again. Tonight, silence did not frighten Leya. Tonight, permission was the formality. She dressed with purpose—not out of fear, but because she knew details were essential. Black pants. Pullover pushed high. Topcoat light for the part of the night but precisely what the message required. Not hiding. Not running. Walking proudly as if this world belonged to her at her feet. The burner phone rang again. Nathaniel: Back gate to the yard. Ten minutes. Nobody in sight. Leya stuffed the phone into her jacket pocket, smoothed her hair again, and stood before the mirror. "Back" just managed to squeeze out the word. She didn't look like the captive girl Harrison had held. She looked like something born of agony. The bruises remained—the pale yellow and blue smudges across the curve of her ribs, her collarbone, and jaw. No longer embarrassed. They were proof. Proof. She survived. She floated. Down. The. Hall. Bare feet silent. The east wing. Empty. Even
Last Updated : 2025-04-24Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 36: Firelight and Fractures
Morning came—but nothing was new. The sun struggled weakly through the curtains, filtering down to stone floors still holding remnants of the shadows cast last night. In a house like the Blackwood mansion, nothing ever really changed. Walls didn't merely hold people—They held silence, secrets, and sins. But deep within those walls, everything changed. Something had broken. Something was going to be born. West Wing Lounge – 7:00 A.M. Harrison stood before the fireplace, arms folded on his chest, watching ashes dance as dying suns. He had not slept. He did not need to. The buzz of breakfast cooking was from far down the halls, but where he sat in silence with worry. The door opened without apology. Nathaniel stood, coat still on, face unyielding. He shut the door, movements too planned, too measured. "You were with her," Harrison accused, not even bothering to turn around. Nathaniel was silent. There was no use for him to do anything else. "She's manipulating you," Harrison
Last Updated : 2025-04-25Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 37: Smoke Has Memory
The Morning After — Blackwood Mansion Grounds The sun tried but failed to cut through the clouds that morning, its beam yellow and subdued, as though cautioned not to burn too bright on this planet. Fog curled over the lawn in a pall, low-floating and enigmatic, over statues and fountains set out singly along the paths of the garden like forsaken memories. Leya lay among the roses, elbows resting in the soil. Not digging. Just. Being. Cold earth concentrated her. Silence gave room for thought. She'd fought to stay alive for three weeks—now she could build something out of sparks. She wasn't naive enough to hope to leave this house unscathed right off the bat. No, if she were going to break out of this house alive—really alive—then she must wait. Wait and demonstrate. And fangs. The chill seeped into the sleeves and the ends of her fingers. She did not crash to the floor, though. Not when she heard Eleanor's gentle laughter outside the west windows. Not when she caught H
Last Updated : 2025-04-25
Latest chapter
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 37: Smoke Has Memory
The Morning After — Blackwood Mansion Grounds The sun tried but failed to cut through the clouds that morning, its beam yellow and subdued, as though cautioned not to burn too bright on this planet. Fog curled over the lawn in a pall, low-floating and enigmatic, over statues and fountains set out singly along the paths of the garden like forsaken memories. Leya lay among the roses, elbows resting in the soil. Not digging. Just. Being. Cold earth concentrated her. Silence gave room for thought. She'd fought to stay alive for three weeks—now she could build something out of sparks. She wasn't naive enough to hope to leave this house unscathed right off the bat. No, if she were going to break out of this house alive—really alive—then she must wait. Wait and demonstrate. And fangs. The chill seeped into the sleeves and the ends of her fingers. She did not crash to the floor, though. Not when she heard Eleanor's gentle laughter outside the west windows. Not when she caught H
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 36: Firelight and Fractures
Morning came—but nothing was new. The sun struggled weakly through the curtains, filtering down to stone floors still holding remnants of the shadows cast last night. In a house like the Blackwood mansion, nothing ever really changed. Walls didn't merely hold people—They held silence, secrets, and sins. But deep within those walls, everything changed. Something had broken. Something was going to be born. West Wing Lounge – 7:00 A.M. Harrison stood before the fireplace, arms folded on his chest, watching ashes dance as dying suns. He had not slept. He did not need to. The buzz of breakfast cooking was from far down the halls, but where he sat in silence with worry. The door opened without apology. Nathaniel stood, coat still on, face unyielding. He shut the door, movements too planned, too measured. "You were with her," Harrison accused, not even bothering to turn around. Nathaniel was silent. There was no use for him to do anything else. "She's manipulating you," Harrison
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 35: Between Ambushes and Allies
The mansion fell softly again. Tonight, silence did not frighten Leya. Tonight, permission was the formality. She dressed with purpose—not out of fear, but because she knew details were essential. Black pants. Pullover pushed high. Topcoat light for the part of the night but precisely what the message required. Not hiding. Not running. Walking proudly as if this world belonged to her at her feet. The burner phone rang again. Nathaniel: Back gate to the yard. Ten minutes. Nobody in sight. Leya stuffed the phone into her jacket pocket, smoothed her hair again, and stood before the mirror. "Back" just managed to squeeze out the word. She didn't look like the captive girl Harrison had held. She looked like something born of agony. The bruises remained—the pale yellow and blue smudges across the curve of her ribs, her collarbone, and jaw. No longer embarrassed. They were proof. Proof. She survived. She floated. Down. The. Hall. Bare feet silent. The east wing. Empty. Even
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 34: Whispered Warnings and the Echo of Rage
The whisper had stopped. But the silence that followed wasn't silence. It was charged. With purpose. With intent. Leya did not lie well once the voice had stopped—her body outstretched on the bed, back tense against the headboard, every hair on her arms bristling not due to fear, but due to awareness. Not every step is a threat. But there are warnings. And the one that had named her tonight. It hadn't been trying to scare her. It had been trying to communicate something. That she was still being watched. And perhaps—perhaps—that someone still cared that she was worth at least something. That cut deeper at her chest than splintered ribs. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, seething an angry glare at where the door had existed once in the darkness. Someone had whispered her name as if it still held meaning. And that was what disturbed her most. Because it meant there was someone in this house who still thought she was worth whispering about. And that? That m
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 33: The Visitor, the Voice, and the Weight of Staying
The voice continued. Soft. Tuned. Familiar—and otherwise. "Leya…" A breath—neither cold nor warm. Did not command, did not scold. Was. Like a stretched bowstring pulled taut behind her at her back. She blinked, sight blurring through fever and weariness, but her backbone firmed—beneath, a little. Her fingers clenched into a blanket on her lap, fine cloth now armor, her foothold in the world. > Who was it? They didn't knock the second time. Didn't stir. I just stood there long enough for her to regain her breath. Long enough for her to realize this hadn't been a mistake. And then, nothing. A withdrawal in silence. The steps light. Stealthy. Commanding. No squeak of the door. No sound of retreating feet. But the tension beyond had changed. As if something had looked at her. Listened to her. Comprehended her. And that had scared her. Not because it had threatened. But because it hadn't. Because for the first time in what had seemed like forever… Someone had said her
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 32: Trust Is a Loaded Gun
Nathaniel was awake. Not that night. After he'd left Leya at the mansion, her silence armor, he'd headed to the east wing. Where the paintings were, where the button-down-bloke blokes with dead eyes in frames—false gods in frames. He didn't switch on the hall light. Didn't switch it on. The weight of her words fell behind him like footprints. I don't need saving, Nathaniel. I need respect. He stood beside the bed, suit jacket still buttoned, tie open but not yet undone. He gazed at the floor for what had to be minutes or maybe hours. He imagined Leya's bruised cheek. Imagine her shaking hands from exhaustion. Recall her eyes—not wide with terror, but level with fire. If she was a fake, then she was the family's finest work. But in a part of him, he knew she wasn't. Still… in the Blackwood house, believing wasn’t enough. You had to be certain. --- The Next Morning – Nathaniel’s Study The morning sun didn’t warm him. He made the call anyway. “St. Delacroix University,
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 31: What Shadows Know
The alley reeked of desperation and stale beer. Leya's shift had run past closing time—again. The night had crawled, but Reed had stayed with her an hour past closing to clean up a spilled drink and split tips. She didn't mind. The more hours she worked, the less she was herself. As if she were somebody else. Somebody free. Somebody who didn't owe the Blackwoods. And then the bar door slammed shut behind her and she was alone in the dark. Zipper up as far as it would go around her neck, purse on her shoulder, and still buzzing hands against sock lining—where tip envelope folded back warm along her ankle. One block down. Just one. Then— A scrape. Heavy feet, too heavy to be mistaken. She shook her head over it, looking back over her shoulder. Two black figures. Too close. Too close by design. Her heartbeat came a little quicker. Muttered voice in the distance. "Hey now… what's a fine-looking girl like you doing way out here by herself?" She stood for military attenti
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 30: The Visitor, the Voice, and the Weight of Staying
The voice remained on.Low. Controlled. Familiar—and not."Leya…"A murmur—icy or gentle, neither. A sound that did not request requested not. It remained just so without her leave. Like a thread pulling at her beyond the door just so.Her own eyes dim with fever and exhaustion, she blinked, but sat up a little more in her backroom bed—a little.Her fists clenched in the blanket spread over her lap, thin blanket now buckler, a lifeline to something sacrosanct.> Who was it?They did not knock again.Didn't move.Stand there, long enough for her to catch her breath. Long enough for her to get a grip on this wasn't an accident.And then, nothing.Silent retreat.The footsteps were careful. Light. Measured.No creak of any door. No patter of feet.But tension at the table had changed.As if whatever had been listening to her.Had seen her.Had known her.-----And that was scaring her.Not by threat of harm which it had seemed to do before.But because it wasn't there.Because for the fi
Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Chapter 29: The Night That Should Have Been Boring
The house slept. That deep, heavy sleep money buys. No bedlam. No alarms. But only endless corridors with silent sconces and floors that shone without a creak. Leya was rigid in the center of her bedroom. She spent there once a minute or two—or so—rigid, inaccessible, just staring at the spread on her bed. Same hoodie. Same jeans. The same black sneakers that never creaked on marble. Her ritual. Her uniform for the other existence. The one she had. --- Getting Ready Slid out of her silk nightgown and into jeans with the knees worn soft at the frayed hems. Pulled the hoodie over her battered shoulders. Tied back her hair in a tight braid. Stuffed the crumpled money into her sock—never her purse. The purse got grabbed. She'd learned that. And she looked in the mirror. No makeup. No perfume. No hint of the woman Harrison used to know. A face carved out of determination. Eyes that wouldn't blink. She stuffed the pocket knife into her sleeve and closed the drawer. Just in c
