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Chapter 0070
Last Updated:
2025-01-23 13:34:57
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The Mafia King's Regret Chapter 0071
She shook her head. “I didn’t expect it. I got home from work and … there they were.” “That’s my mother for you,” I admitted, and for the first time I saw the flip side to her unyielding determination. “When she decides something is important, there’s no stopping her. Layla’s gaze stayed fixed on
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Dinners at the Marcello estate ranged from lonely—when I arrived home from work at an odd hour and gobbled leftovers at the kitchen counter—to downright boisterous. Today was the latter. Eli had insisted we join Aldo and his mother Melissa, along with Carlo and another of Aldo’s closer confidants.
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Naturally, I bristled at that, too. “Maybe I want to go.” His perfect black brows curved upwards in a perfect arch. “Oh? And why is that?” “Clearly, I’m part of this world now, whether I like it or not.” I crossed my arms, leveled him with an unblinking stare. “Might as well know what I’m up again
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Aldo Breath flowed smoothly from my nose, and my heart beat steadily against my ribs. I kept my gaze fixed on the woman in front of me as we circled each other. The mats beneath our feet softened the sound of our movements, but nothing escaped my notice. Layla lunged. I feinted sideways, caught
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His grin only widened as I approached. “Aldo Marcello. How good to see you.” The words were soft, smooth. Predatory. I didn’t bother with any of his games. “You’re a hard man to kill, Mr. Ricci. Or is it Moretti now?” “Maybe so.” Marco chuckled, unfazed by my words, and reached for the glass of
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Layla “A ball?” I stared down at the cream cardstock invitation, the curling gold script declaring that I, Layla Bennett, had been invited to a goddamned ball. How cool would this have been, if I was seven? “You should go.” Aldo hovered in the doorway to the guesthouse kitchen, arms crossed and a
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The floor was almost entirely filled with guests dressed to make my new attire feel shabby. I lingered along the fringes of the room, tongue-tied, overwhelmed, and outclassed. How long was I supposed to stay here? Maybe I could walk around, nod and smile, and be on my way? “You look beautiful.” Al
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Layla I found solace out on the rear balcony, in a quiet corner of the night. Free of Marco’s smile and Aldo’s steadfast presence, I felt suddenly shaky, my chest too tight. The champagne in my fingers did little to calm me. The cool air caressed my skin, a welcome reprieve from the suffocating te
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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
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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
