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180. Intimate Dinner
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2025-01-13 05:43:52
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The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 267. The Mission
The dress was black silk. It was elegant, sexy.It clung just enough to blend in, not enough to stand out. The kind of thing a quiet mistress or a discreet secretary might wear at a party like this. She'd chosen it on purpose.Camille moved through the crowd like a shadow, her expression soft, her smile rehearsed, her heels clicking just loud enough to be noticed without being remembered.Tomas had invited her as his "companion" for the evening. The fourth this month, if the whispers were true. He liked to rotate them. New faces kept his reputation glossy and untraceable.But Camille wasn't here for champagne.She was here for information."Stay close," Tomas murmured against her ear, guiding her toward the table near the balcony. "This crowd bites.""Only if you taste sweet," she said, her accent smooth and foreign.He laughed, charmed. Predictable.Tomas liked beautiful things. Especially beautiful things that pretended not to see the rot under his fingernails.Camille sat beside hi
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 266. Sob Story
DaphneOn the way to the Villa, Ella had fallen asleep. Her hair damp with saltwater and cookie crumbs smudged on her cheek. Alma had helped tuck her in without waking her.Now it was just...stillness.Daphne stood at the kitchen island, barefoot and vaguely damp from her second shower of the day, staring down at a mango juice box she had stolen from Max's ridiculous stash. It was still cold."Coming to bed?" a voice said behind her.She didn't turn. "Don't sneak up on me, Landon.""I wasn't sneaking," he said, stepping into the room. "I was checking on you.""I'm fine.""Why are you standing there drinking juice in the dark?"She looked down at the box and rolled her eyes. "It's peaceful."He didn't argue. Just opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and leaned against the counter beside her. Close enough to be warm."Tell me what happened to you when you were at Marquez's care," he said. Daphne didn't answer at first.Her fingers tightened around the juice box until the si
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 265. Beach Day
The SUV rumbled to life a few minutes later, packed with towels, a cooler, sunscreen, and enough snacks to survive a minor apocalypse. Max took the wheel, naturally, sunglasses perched on his face like he owned the sun.Ella sat in the front seat beside him, buckled in and clinging to a juice pouch like it was a shield. Her silence was still there, but the stiffness in her frame had softened.“I’m just saying,” Max said as he pulled onto the coastal road, “if I die of dehydration because someone forgot to pack orange soda, I’m haunting this family.”“I brought water,” Daphne said dryly from the back.“Oh, good,” Max muttered. “That’ll go great with trauma.”Landon leaned forward between the seats. “You know, Max, you’re setting a great example for Ella.”“She needs to see the effects of mild caffeine withdrawal in real time. It’s educational.”Ella’s lip twitched. Not a smile. Not yet. But close.The winding roads gave way to dazzling views, rolling cliffs, bright jungle foliage, the
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 264. Snacks and Sarcasm
Landon knew she was mad the moment the bedroom door clicked shut. Not irritated. Not sulking.Full-blown, fire-breathing, I-will-stab-a-bitch mad.Daphne crossed the room like a storm contained in silk, arms folded so tightly across her chest it looked like restraint. Her mouth was a straight, deadly line.So, of course, he had to charm her socks off. And so far, it looked like it was working.The next morning, it was straight to business. Max stood near the SUV, checking the gear with military precision. Camille was already there.“I packed light,” she said, swinging her duffel into the trunk. “Just three guns and an attitude.”Max handed her a burner phone. “Encrypted. Don’t use it unless it’s an emergency.”“Understood,” she said, flipping it open and shut just to hear the click. “Still no love note in the box, though.”Landon stood back, arms crossed, watching every movement like a hawk.Camille turned toward Daphne, who leaned against the stone pillar near the garage, arms folded
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 263. Admit It
Camille leaned over the map with a pencil between her teeth, tracing a supply line through the Santa Marta docks.“If they switch trucks here,” she murmured, pointing. “Every sixth night, like Max said, that’s when they move the real cargo.”Max stood at the head of the table, arms folded, his jaw tight. “They’ve got someone watching port security. I want a name.”“I can get it,” Camille said, pulling the pencil free with her teeth and flashing a grin. “But I’ll need one of your burner phones and a clean car. You want quiet or chaos?”“Quiet,” Landon said from the side, tone clipped. “We don’t need a trail leading back here.”Camille rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun anymore.”“I’m not here to be fun.”“Obviously.”Max cut in before the temperature could drop. “Focus. We need you in position by Friday. I want a full report before the next cycle begins.”Camille’s smirk faded as she tapped the pencil against her lip thoughtfully. “I’ll need a second set of hands. Someone I can trust.”“Y
The Mafia Boss's Pregnant Bride 262. Do You Like Him?
The next morning, the villa was quiet.Daphne stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but one of Landon’s shirts and a faint scowl. A mug of bitter black coffee steamed in her hands, untouched. She wasn’t thinking about caffeine.She was thinking about the war that was about to unfold.Across the room, Landon and Max sat at the massive oak table. The laptop was open. Blueprints and digital schematics glowed across the screen, layered with names and routes.“Three compounds,” Max muttered. “All in Colombia. The border one is guarded, but the real cargo is coming through here.” He zoomed in on a red pin near the coast. “—Santa Marta.”Daphne padded forward, dropping into a seat and kicking her feet up on the table without apology. “That’s one of his most successful areas for trafficking.”Max nodded grimly. “Every six days. Marquez’s lieutenants call it ‘the washing cycle.’ They take girls, bleach their names, repackage them, and ship them like they’re inventory.”Landon’s jaw tightened,
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