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Chapter 22
Last Updated:
2024-12-16 13:52:24
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The Mafia King's Regret Chapter 23
Layla After work, I showered and changed, then headed down to the courtyard garden I’d discovered on our first day. The last thing I expected was to find Aldo talking to Eli. But that’s exactly what I saw when I entered the interior garden—Aldo crouched beside my son. I hurried down the winding w
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Aldo Layla’s laugh still echoed in my mind. A day later, in the shadowy glow of a high-end restaurant’s private back room, I could still hear that derisive chuckle. A restless night, a morning of phone calls and paperwork, and now this ill-advised meeting, and I was still back in my office, her gl
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“I’ll never harm innocent people again,” Moretti started, which is how I knew the second part of the deal—my part—would be something I didn’t like. Where I hated killing, Moretti reveled in it. Innocence or guilt mattered not. For him to agree to a ceasefire meant he wanted something big from me.
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Layla Work was busy. So busy, I barely stopped moving for my entire twelve-hour shift. I barely had time to wave at interns and fellow doctors in passing as I ran from patient to patient. So busy, I didn’t have time to feel tired. To think. It was definitely for the best, after my last less-than
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He’d beaten Marco. Beaten him with his bloody fists! And then he’d gone to Aurora. “That fucking hypocrite,” I snarled. And I lunged for the doorknob. The guard dog’s meaty hand locked around my biceps, halting me in my tracks. “Nobody goes in.” “Nobody touches her.” Carlo, suddenly, was at my s
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Layla “Aldo, what’s wrong?” Had he taken some kind of drug? The man in my bed was definitely Aldo Marcello—those chiseled cheekbones and strong jaw, the plumped lips and long black lashes, the scarred, muscled body, could belong to no other. But it wasn’t him. “Nothing’s wrong.” He leaned in tow
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Fuck. I shoved away from him, my chest heaving with panted breaths. “I can’t do this.” My whole body ached for him. But I couldn’t answer the call. As much as his touch awakened a passion inside me I hadn’t known for years, this wasn’t real. He was high—probably on some kind of aphrodisiac. “Lay
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Aldo “I never married her,” I murmured into the pelting droplets of icy water. I didn’t know where the words came from or why I spoke them. But I was suddenly glad they were true. She’d drugged me. Aurora had slipped something into my drink, I was almost sure of it. I hadn’t realized it at the ti
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AldoThe Marcello estate hadn’t seen a night like this in far too long. Since Layla and I had wed on this same lawn—nearly a year ago now. How had it been so long? How had time passed so quickly?And more importantly: How had we been married for so many months, yet shared so few moments like this on
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I was late to Eli Marcello’s party. But I was also on the hunt, and as a cop, one of those things definitely took precedent. Eli’s party would go on for another several hours. And he’d be ten for an entire year after that.But I’d found a clue, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to follow it.I was
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One week since I’d given the order.One week since I’d unleashed the Marcello family on the streets of New York with orders to take no prisoners.One week since I’d declared war on the Rossetti family.I sat at the head of the long table, trying to force myself to eat.The rest of the table’s occupa
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The estate bustled with movement: Marcello men arming themselves, strategizing, talking shit, waving proverbial fists at the enemy, posturing, preparing for war … All the things men did. But still, they awaited my command.I stood at the head of the table in the grand dining room, where a makeshift
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Fear.Shit.“Where is he?” I demanded.Carlo jerked his head toward a nearby room. “The doctors are with him now. It was bad, Layla. The explosion took out half the building. We were lucky to get him out alive.”I nudged past him and into the room.Aldo lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, a deep
The Mafia King's Regret Chapter 167
LaylaAldo had missed another dinner.Or, rather, he was in the process of missing it. I sat at the head of the long dining table, where he’d normally sit; for some reason it felt wrong to leave it vacant. Beside me, Eli pushed food around his plate with his fork, and on his other side, Vanessa lean
The Mafia King's Regret Chapter 166
EthanI, once again, found myself at the precinct long after the rest of my desk-mates and cohorts had vacated for the night. I mean, the police precinct was never truly empty—it was New York City, so the place was always hopping—but the difference between day shift and night shift was, well. Night
The Mafia King's Regret Chapter 165
EthanI got to the coffee shop far earlier than was necessary—close to an hour before Vanessa and I had decided to meet—and proceeded to sulk in the corner like a loser, downing coffee.I’d long since stopped smelling the fresh-baked goods layered behind the glass counter, and I was far too nervous
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“But I’m funny and charming,” Ethan said, with a smile that was indeed quite charming. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for not being able to resist.”I groaned, trying very hard not to smile myself. “This is the worst flirting I’ve ever seen.”“It’s not flirting!” Ethan protested, lifting his hands in
