Home / Mafia / The Mafia Man wants my Heart / Chapter 2: The Intruder

Share

Chapter 2: The Intruder

Author: Efita
last update Last Updated: 2025-03-20 23:57:42

The sharp sound of shattering glass jolted me awake.

My heart slammed against my ribcage, a frantic rhythm that echoed in my ears as I jolted upright. The once quiet room was now thick with an unsettling stillness, the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Shadows stretched across the walls, shifting with the faint flicker of the streetlights filtering through the partially drawn curtains. Each breath I took was uneven, shuddering past my lips as my chest rose and fell in rapid succession.

Disoriented, my mind struggled to piece together the moments leading up to this instant—what had disturbed my sleep? A noise? A presence? Or just the lingering tendrils of an anxious dream?

I swallowed hard, willing myself to steady the erratic pounding in my chest, but a gnawing sense of unease curled deep in my stomach. Something wasn’t right.

The broken window.

The realization sent a shiver down my spine.

Had the wind knocked it loose? Or—

A groan.

Low, pained.

Not from me.

My head snapped toward the source.

A figure loomed in the darkness, half-slumped against the wall near the shattered window. The dim light revealed the broad shape of a man, his breathing ragged. His dark clothes were torn, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw the faint glisten of something wet on his arm. Blood.

I barely had time to react before he moved—too fast despite his injury.

A powerful, unyielding hand clamped over my mouth, smothering the terrified scream that had barely begun to rise in my throat. Panic surged through me like a violent current, my body reacting on pure instinct. I thrashed wildly, my legs kicking out in a desperate attempt to break free, my fingernails digging into the rough skin of his wrist. But his grip was immovable—unyielding like steel shackles locking me in place.

His presence was overwhelming, a solid mass of strength pressing against me, trapping me in a suffocating hold. The scent of him—faintly metallic, with a trace of something musky and unfamiliar—invaded my senses, making my stomach churn. My pulse pounded relentlessly, the blood roaring in my ears as fear seized every muscle in my body.

“Relax,” a deep voice rasped against my ear, the warmth of his breath brushing over my skin in a way that sent a violent shudder down my spine. His tone was firm yet laced with something strained, something almost… weary. As if holding me like this was taking just as much out of him as it was out of me.

I didn’t relax. I couldn’t.

Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to scream, to do something—anything—to get away. But his grip only tightened in silent warning.

“I won’t hurt you.” The words were low, deliberate. A promise or a lie—I couldn’t tell.

I didn’t believe him.

My body went rigid, every muscle locking up as raw terror coiled in my gut. My mind raced, grasping for an escape, for some way out of this nightmare.

He let out a slow, measured breath. “Promise me you won’t scream if I let you go.”

I hesitated.

He wasn’t out of breath. He wasn’t struggling to restrain me. He was hurt.

The realization cut through my panic, forcing me to think beyond my fear.

I swallowed hard, my throat constricting as I forced myself to meet his gaze—what little I could see of it in the dim lighting. Dark, unreadable eyes bored into mine, waiting. Expecting.

I gave a frantic nod.

Slowly, his hand loosened. The moment I was free, I scrambled backward, pressing myself against the headboard. My fingers fumbled for my phone on the nightstand, but before I could grab it, he took a step closer.

“Don’t,” he warned.

His posture wasn’t aggressive, but there was an undeniable weight to his presence, something dangerous humming beneath his exhaustion.

“Who the hell are you?” My voice shook despite my effort to steady it.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he swayed slightly, his body betraying his weakness. He clutched his arm, his jaw tightening as he exhaled through his nose.

“I’m sorry for breaking in,” he finally muttered. “I just needed a place to hide.”

“Hide?” My skin prickled. “From who?”

A humorless smirk touched his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “From worse people than me.”

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening around the edge of the blanket.

His shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of whatever he had escaped pressing down on him. “I won’t touch you. I just…” He swayed again, his strength waning. “Just needed a place to breathe.”

Before I could process his words, he groaned and collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor.

Instinct battled logic. He was injured. Clearly struggling. But he was also a stranger who had just broken into my room.

I should have called for help. Should have run.

But instead—

“Are you hurt?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His head lolled slightly, dark eyes flicking up to meet mine. There was surprise in them, as if he hadn’t expected kindness. As if the concept was foreign to him.

He nodded once, slow and deliberate. “Yeah… got stabbed.”

The air between us grew heavier. Fear still gripped me, my instincts screaming at me to run, to call for help. But something in his voice—his exhaustion, his pain—made me hesitate.

He was injured. Vulnerable.

A part of me wished I could ignore it, pretend he wasn’t sitting there bleeding into my carpet. But I couldn’t.

“Wait here.”

My legs were shaky as I climbed out of bed, keeping my eyes on him as I moved toward the door. My body was still tense, every nerve on high alert, but he made no move to stop me.

The hallway was dim, the only light coming from a flickering bulb near the stairwell. Mounted on the wall was a small emergency first aid kit. I fumbled with the latch, nearly dropping it in my rush.

By the time I returned, he was in the same spot, his back resting against the wall, his breathing slow but uneven. His jaw was tight, his fingers curled near his side, as if he were fighting to stay conscious.

I slid the kit toward him, keeping a cautious distance.

He exhaled sharply, the faintest trace of relief crossing his face as he reached for it. His fingers were unsteady, and when he tried to peel back the fabric of his torn sleeve, a sharp hiss escaped him.

Guilt pricked at me. He was hurt, and here I was, treating him like a criminal.

Even if that’s exactly what he might be.

“Let me help,” I muttered, inching closer.

His dark eyes met mine, searching, measuring. Then, after a beat, he gave a small nod.

I knelt beside him, flipping open the kit and switching on my phone’s flashlight. The wound on his arm was ugly—an angry, deep gash that had already soaked through his shirt. Blood streaked his skin, dark and glistening in the dim light.

“This is going to sting,” I warned.

He huffed a dry laugh. “Not my first wound, sweetheart.”

I ignored the nickname and focused on the task at hand. Carefully, I dabbed at the wound with an antiseptic wipe. He barely flinched, but I caught the slight twitch of his jaw, the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch.

“You’re lucky,” I muttered, pressing a little harder than necessary. “This could’ve been a lot worse.”

His lips quirked slightly, though there was no real humor in his expression. “You have no idea.”

I didn’t ask.

As I worked, the silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken questions. Who was he? Why was he here? What had he done to get stabbed?

I wasn’t sure I wanted the answers.

“So,” I said, needing something to break the tension. “Mugged in a dark alley?”

His smirk was faint, barely there. “Something like that.”

I could tell he wasn’t going to elaborate.

After securing the bandage around his arm, I sat back on my heels, watching him carefully. His shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.

“You need stitches,” I murmured.

He sighed, resting his head against the wall. “I’ll survive.”

The words were so casual, so certain, as if he had been through worse. As if pain was just another part of his life.

A strange silence settled over us.

I knew I should still be afraid. Should be yelling for help, demanding answers, doing anything other than sitting here, helping a stranger who had broken into my room.

And yet…

“What happens now?” I finally asked.

He glanced at me, his gaze unreadable. “I just need a few hours. I won’t take your bed. Just let me rest here.”

My instincts screamed at me to say no.

But there was something about him—the way he sat there, worn down yet still composed, injured yet still exuding a quiet strength—that made me hesitate.

I should have told him to leave.

Should have been smarter.

But instead—

“Fine,” I muttered. “But if you try anything—”

His smirk returned, just a flicker of amusement in his tired eyes. “You’ll stab me?”

“Exactly.”

For the first time, the tension in the room eased. Just a little.

I climbed back into bed, keeping my phone gripped in my hand. Sleep didn’t come easy. Every few minutes, I cracked one eye open, half-expecting him to make a move.

But he didn’t.

He stayed slumped against the wall, his breathing deep and steady, his body finally giving in to exhaustion.

And when the first rays of dawn peeked through the broken window—

He was gone.

Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App

Related chapters

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    Chapter 3: Vanished

    I jolted awake, a shudder ripping through me before I could fully process why. The room was dark, but something felt… off. My breath came in uneven gasps as I scanned my surroundings, my mind still groggy with sleep. The bed beneath me was slightly rumpled, the blankets twisted from restless tossing. But that wasn’t what sent ice trickling down my spine. The silence. It was too still. I turned my head toward the spot where he had been slumped against the wall. Empty. My pulse kicked up. I scrambled upright, my bare feet hitting the cold wooden floor as I stumbled toward the window. It was slightly ajar, the cracked pane allowing a thin breeze to snake through. I pressed my fingertips to the glass. Still cool. He was gone. A part of me had expected this, but now that it was real, I felt an odd mix of relief and unease. He had been injured—badly. And yet, he had vanished into the night like a phantom, leaving nothing behind except a smear of dried blood on the floorboards. I sw

    Last Updated : 2025-03-20
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    Chapter 4: A Month Later

    New Orleans Mia Cruz jolted awake at the sound of her alarm shrieking through the silence. With a groggy groan, she slapped at her phone, missing twice before finally silencing it. Blinking against the early morning light filtering through her curtains, she forced herself upright. Her body protested, every muscle stiff from the awkward way she had slept. She hadn’t even changed out of yesterday’s clothes. Again. Rubbing her eyes, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and checked the time. 8:15 AM. Her heart lurched. “Shit!” She was late. Again. Got it! Here’s the revised version with her blonde straight hair: ⸻ Bolting from the bed, Mia yanked off her wrinkled dress and sprinted into the bathroom, her bare feet slapping against the cold tiled floor. A sharp chill raced up her spine, but she ignored it, twisting the shower knob on full blast. Lukewarm water cascaded down, shocking her system awake as she stepped under the spray. She worked quickly, grabbing her shampo

    Last Updated : 2025-03-20
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    Chapter 5: The Big Day

    Mia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling long before her alarm blared through the quiet room. Sleep had evaded her for most of the night, leaving her tangled in a mess of sheets and nerves. Her thoughts had refused to settle, replaying every possible scenario of her presentation like a never-ending reel. She imagined herself stammering, forgetting key points, or—God forbid—completely blanking in front of Marco Valentino.When the alarm finally shrilled at 6:30 AM, she flinched but didn’t bother reaching for it. She had been awake for the last half-hour, counting down the minutes in the dim morning light. With a deep breath, she turned it off, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and sat there for a moment, her heart thudding against her ribs.You’ve got this. Just get through today.She forced herself to stand and padded to the bathroom, shivering as her bare feet met the cold tiles. Turning on the shower, she let the water heat up before stepping in, sighing as the warmth seeped in

    Last Updated : 2025-03-21
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 6: Face to Face

    Mia took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the file as she stepped forward. Her heart pounded a relentless rhythm against her ribs, the weight of anticipation pressing down on her chest like an iron vice. The hallway leading to the conference room had never felt so long, each step echoing in her ears, amplifying the anxious storm brewing inside her. She could feel the weight of her own thoughts, spiraling through worst-case scenarios. What if I forget my key points? What if I stutter? What if Valentino dismisses me before I even finish my first sentence? Her grip tightened around the file. No. Focus. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to exude the same level of confidence as the other executives who strolled these halls like they owned the world. She straightened her blouse, smoothing the fabric over her waist as though it could also iron out the nervous energy thrumming through her veins. The closer she got to the conference room, the louder the murmur of conversation

    Last Updated : 2025-03-27
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 7: The past never stays Buried

    The conference room door clicked shut behind her, but Mia barely heard it over the pounding of her own heartbeat. The moment the presentation ended, she had slipped out, needing a moment to gather herself. She had done it—delivered her pitch with poise, answered every question with confidence. But none of that mattered. Because the entire time, she had felt his eyes on her. Marco Valentino. The man who now stood at the center of her world in ways she couldn’t understand. The same man who, for the briefest second during the presentation, had looked at her like he knew her—like he was peeling back layers of time, trying to place her in a memory just out of reach. She exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her chest. It was just business. That was all. Yet, deep down, she knew that was a lie. Mia barely had time to steady her breathing before her boss’s voice rang out behind her. “Miss Cruz.” She turned sharply, her pulse still erratic, to see Mr. Gravitas standing in th

    Last Updated : 2025-03-28
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 8: The Reckoning

    The scent of old paper and freshly brewed coffee filled the bookstore, wrapping Mia in a familiar comfort. Sunlight streamed through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden shelves stacked with stories waiting to be discovered. It was a quiet Saturday morning, the kind she usually cherished. But not today. Today, she was on edge. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted a row of hardcovers, pretending to be engrossed in her task. She had been doing this all morning—straightening books, reorganizing displays, making small talk with Chloe—all in an effort to ignore the gnawing unease in her stomach. Because he was coming. Marco Valentino. She swallowed hard, sneaking a glance at the clock hanging above the counter. 10:02 AM. He hadn’t given her a specific time, but she knew he would show up whenever he pleased. That was the kind of man he was. The bell above the door jingled, and her breath caught. She turned, pulse hammering, only to find an elder

    Last Updated : 2025-03-28
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 9: Cafe

    MIA CRUZI took a deep breath before stepping out of the storeroom, my hands tightening around the book samples. I had only been in there for a few minutes, but it had been enough to gather myself—or so I thought.The moment I looked up, my stomach did a ridiculous flip.Marco was still there.He leaned casually against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with an amused expression. His dark eyes held a knowing glint, like he could see right through me.“You sure took your time,” he mused.I forced a small laugh, shifting the samples in my grip. “Just… making sure I got the right books.”He hummed as if he didn’t believe me but didn’t push. Instead, he straightened, his gaze settling on me in a way that made my skin prickle.“So,” he said smoothly, “since I’m already here, how about we grab a coffee? You must have a lot of questions.”Coffee?I blinked, caught

    Last Updated : 2025-03-28
  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 10: Into the fire

    MIA CRUZ The blaring of my alarm jolted me awake, dragging me out of a restless sleep. I groaned, rolling over and slamming the snooze button before burying my face in my pillow. Just five more minutes. Except five minutes turned into ten, and by the time I finally forced myself up, the sun was already peeking through my window, casting a warm glow across my room. Sunday. The realization hit me fully, sending a jolt of awareness through my still-sleepy mind. I was meeting Marco today. At his house. I shook off the nerves creeping in and stretched, rubbing my eyes before dragging myself out of bed. My feet padded across the cool wooden floor as I made my way to the bathroom. A splash of cold water to my face did wonders in shaking off the last remnants of sleep. I brushed my teeth, letting my mind wander as I moved through my morning routine—washing my face, tying my blonde hair into a loose bun, and stepping into the shower. The hot water loosened the tension in my should

    Last Updated : 2025-03-29

Latest chapter

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 30: Smoke in the Silence

    Dave’s POVThe whisky burned his throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his chest.He hadn’t touched a drink in years, but after what happened at the library, self-control felt like a joke.He paced his apartment like a caged animal, heart thudding in his ears. The moment Mia turned and saw Marco, something in her face shifted. Relief. Like she’d been rescued.From him.“She made me believe…” he muttered, gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white. “All those late-night book talks. The way she laughed when I told her she was the only one who actually got me…”He grabbed the glass again and downed the last of it, staring into the empty bookshelf across the room. It used to be filled. Now, only a few titles remained—ones he couldn’t bear to part with. Her favorites.“I was there for her. Not him.” His voice cracked. “I listened. I cared.”But none of it mattered now. Because Mia had chosen Marco. The billionaire. The threat.Dave’s hands curled into fist

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 29: Shadows Between the Shelves

    Mia’s POVThe sky had long darkened, and the golden hues of dusk gave way to deep indigo. Inside the bookstore, the soft lamplight cast a cozy, flickering glow on the wood-paneled walls. It smelled like old paper, fresh espresso, and cinnamon muffins—the comforting signature scent of Chapters & Coffee.Marco.He just stood there, the city lights reflecting off his dark coat, hair tousled like he’d run a hand through it a dozen times. There was something almost wild in his eyes. Not violent—just intense. Caged. Like he was battling something inside him that didn’t want to stay quiet anymore.My mom, bless her timing, gave him a suspicious once-over from behind the counter before murmuring, “I’ll be back in ten. We’re out of milk.” She gave me a tight smile—one that said we’re going to talk about this later—then slipped out the door.The air shifted. The moment she left, it felt like the entire store sighed into stillness.Marco moved closer, hands in his coat pockets, his gaze never le

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 28: Chapters, Coffee, and Confessions

    Marco’s POVThe sun had dipped behind the skyline, casting the city in a gold-tinged gloom as I watched from the driver’s seat of the black Aston Martin. The hum of the engine had gone cold. I hadn’t moved in nearly twenty minutes. Not since she walked out of that glass building—Luxe Visions—like she was carrying a thousand invisible bricks on her back.Mia Cruz.The woman who made me question every rule I’d lived by, every line I’d drawn to keep people out.Her shoulders were tense beneath the tailored beige coat she wore, the collar flipped up like armor against the late evening chill. Her steps weren’t rushed, but they weren’t steady either. Each one looked like she had to convince herself to take it. I watched as she paused at the corner, her head tilting toward the sky for just a second like she needed to remind herself how to breathe.She didn’t see me.Didn’t know I’d been here since noon—since just after I left her standing in that diner, after I told her I couldn’t walk away

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 27: Unspoken Tensions

    Mia’s POVThe bus stop was quieter than usual, just the low hum of the city waking up around me. I pulled my coat tighter against the chill, wishing it could somehow shield me from the thoughts that kept circling my mind like vultures. Marco Valentino wasn’t supposed to be a part of my life—he wasn’t supposed to be anything at all. And yet, here I was, thinking about him when I should be focused on the day ahead.I stepped onto the bus when it pulled up, the scent of fresh coffee and early morning newspaper clippings mingling with the stale air of the crowded ride. I grabbed a seat near the back, hoping for a quiet ride before the chaos of work took over.The bus jerked to a stop as we hit traffic, and I glanced over to see Dave standing in the aisle. His tall frame loomed just behind a man in a dark suit, his posture stiff. He caught my gaze, and for a second, I thought I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. But then his face softened, like he was trying to be

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 26: Normal day, normal life

    Marco’s POVShe had no idea what she was doing to him.No fucking idea.Marco sat alone in his penthouse, lights dim, a glass of whiskey untouched in his hand, staring out at the city that knelt beneath his feet like it belonged to him.Because it did.Everything he wanted, he took.Everything he desired, he owned.Everything he touched, he marked.That was the world of Marco Valentino.Until her.Until Mia.The little waitress with fire in her eyes and a softness in her soul that made him feel…Unsteady.Off-balance.Human.And God, he hated feeling human.He wasn’t supposed to want someone like her. Sweet. Uncomplicated. Broke. Ordinary.But ordinary had never looked so fucking beautiful.Ordinary had never smiled at him like she had — without fear. Without expectation.Mia was the first woman in his entire cursed existence who didn’t want anything from him… except maybe for him to leave her alone.But it was too late for that.Way too fucking late.He’d crossed the line the moment

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 25: Part of Your world

    Mia barely heard a word Dave was saying.Her mind was still stuck in him.Marco Valentino.That look in his eyes.Those words.Mine.She shivered — except it wasn’t from the cold.It was from the way her body remembered the heat of his presence even after he was gone.Get a grip, Mia.Dave was still rambling awkwardly beside her, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was about to get whacked in broad daylight.“…seriously, Mia. That guy’s intense. Like, mafia movie final boss level intense.”She almost laughed.If only he knew.But all she managed was a small, exhausted smile.“I’m fine, Dave.”“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure he wanted to rip my head off.”Mia sighed. “He didn’t.”“Not yet,” Dave mumbled under his breath.That actually made her chuckle.Soft. Tired. But real.Her feet ached from standing so long, her head throbbed from everything that just happened, and the idea of squeezing herself into an overcrowded bus after surviving Marco Valentino felt

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 24: Jealousy Has A Name

    The rain had picked up again, soft droplets clinging to the diner windows, turning the world outside into a blurry haze. Inside, the lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a warm glow on the silver table where Mia sat, nervously tracing the rim of her glass.Dave was talking — about books, about some ridiculous historical fact that normally would’ve had her full attention — but tonight, her mind was elsewhere.Marco.Her phone sat in her lap, buzzing occasionally like it was mocking her.I’m on my way to the diner.Her heart skipped for the hundredth time.Was he serious? Would he really show up here?“Mia,” Dave’s voice broke through her thoughts, softer this time. Almost careful. “You’re somewhere else tonight.”She blinked, forcing a weak smile. “Sorry. Just… distracted.”Dave gave a short chuckle, but there was no humor in it. His eyes flickered down to her phone like he already knew exactly who was distracting her.“That friend of yours?” His tone was light — but God, the bite b

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 23: Unspoken Intentions

    Mia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she stepped into her bedroom. As much as she wanted to linger in the quiet morning with Marco, today was still a workday. Reality was waiting.She pulled open her wardrobe, grabbing a fresh outfit. Behind her, she could hear Marco moving around the living room.By the time she emerged, dressed in a fitted blouse and tailored pants, he was standing by the window, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low and steady as he spoke.“Come back now,” he told the driver. A brief pause. Then, “Yeah, the rain’s lighter. Just be careful.”Mia glanced outside. The heavy storm had passed, leaving behind a soft drizzle. The streets glistened under the muted morning light, damp but no longer flooded.Marco ended the call and turned toward her, his sharp gaze raking over her appearance. Something flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t comment.“You’re heading to work,” he stated rather than ask

  • The Mafia Man wants my Heart    CHAPTER 22: The Tension We Can’t Escape

    Mia woke to the soft patter of rain against the window, the storm from last night reduced to a gentle drizzle. For a moment, she stayed still, letting the warmth of the bed and the steady rhythm of Marco’s breathing beside her keep her grounded.Then it hit her—Marco was still here.Her eyes flickered open, and the first thing she saw was him. He lay on his side, one arm resting beneath his head, the other draped loosely over the duvet. His face, usually hardened with intensity, was relaxed in sleep. The sharp angles of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, the slow rise and fall of his chest—it was a side of him she’d never seen before.A flutter stirred in her stomach.Carefully, she shifted, trying not to wake him. But as soon as she moved, his eyes cracked open, dark and unreadable.For a second, they just stared at each other.Then his lips twitched. “You’re watching me, little mouse.”Heat rushed to her chee

Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status