Semua Bab Mafia Heir's Contract Wife [Mafia Games V]: Bab 51 - Bab 60

[ D O M I N I C O ] Why isn't she answering? It's been two hours. I've been trying to call her since Enzo and I left the cemetery. So far, still no texts, no callbacks, no emails from her. She didn't even bother telling me she's going somewhere. Waiting for my static inbox to move, I peel myself off the sofa and stand behind Enzo. We're one action flick down and two glasses away from finishing the bottle of red wine I rescued from the fridge. “So? Where's your wife?” Enzo's loud voice and grumpy tone only amplify the tension in my shoulders. “At the mall, prolly.” I pace behind the couch, my eyes glued to my phone. Worry is starting to consume my mind. I dial Seraphine's number again. Still no answer. Paolo hasn't called me back, either. The fuck is happening? Are they on a secret dinner date or something? They'd better not be making out on some gondola, or anywhere else. I ring his other phone number, the knots in my stomach only doubling by the minute. “Paolo,” I say the s

[ S E R A P H I N E ]Crap. I can't believe he just said that. What for? To discourage me? Scare me? Convince me that he wanted me to move in because he wants to turn this fake marriage into something more? Something real, serious, and permanent? Bullshit. The truth is, he's trying to convince himself that he wants and needs this relationship to work out. There's no way he actually wants me to be his new wife. Nor is he eager to marry and start a family with someone he just met a few months ago.I don't know where to go. Where to hide. If I try to leave again, he's gonna tell his bodyguards to stalk me. Like I'm some prey that can't ever escape this cage. A voiceless, helpless prisoner who can't ever say no to him.Sighing to myself, I glance at the locked door. I'm back in the room I slept in last night. Alone. Tired. A little hungry. I should be starving, but my appetite's been iffy these past couple of weeks.I pace around the room. The lights stay dim. Everything's the same. I g

[ S E R A P H I N E ]A month flies by in a blur. Dominico and I revised the terms of our arrangement weeks ago. The negotiations took a while, and it wasn't easy. But what we have now is a better setup than him paying the bills and putting food on the table while I pretend I'm his stay-at-home trophy wife.When he asked me to stay here in Florence, I said yes. Out of worry, mainly. This property is hours away from Genoa and belongs in a relatively quiet neighborhood, but it's not enough to ensure our safety. I'm still living here in his house for free. In return, I do the chores like cooking and cleaning most days of the week. Usually after my classes. The least I could do for his generosity and encouragement. We hang out more often now, except when I'm at school or he's at work. But our sleeping arrangements haven't changed. Dominico and I still have separate rooms. I don't think he'll try to change my mind about it anytime soon. This weekend, though, we're gonna be sleeping in t

[ S E R A P H I N E ] “Why? Is he threatening you?” Threatening me? I squint at Alina's nickname on my phone screen. Why does she think Dominico would threaten me? “N-No.” “Seraphine...” Alina sighs on the other end. “Don't lie. Okay? I just want to be sure you're safe.” “I am.” My voice falters. I take a deep breath as more tears warm my eyes. I'm not sure why she called me up at this hour, but I'm thankful for the distraction. “Really, I'm fine.” “You sound the opposite of fine.” Alina scoffs. “What shit did he pull this time?” “Nothing.” “I'm not buying it. You sound like you've been crying all day.” “What? No.” I lower my voice and switch the lights on. The sudden brightness makes me squint as I sit beside the sink. “I'm not.” “So he's still out of town?” “Dom just got back from his trip.” “What happened? What did he do?” Alina says louder, her annoyance still obvious in her slightly raspy voice. “Nothing. He didn't hurt me or anything.” “Stop lying for him, Seph

[ S E R A P H I N E ] The house feels more like a fortress than a home tonight. I'm getting used to seeing Dominico's bodyguards every single day, but the presence of another armed stranger in the house is only making me more uncomfortable. Not safer. The tension around us is making Dominico fidget in his seat, too. Fico and Paolo awkwardly chat with Mrs. Tomassini's bodyguard in the living room while steady rainfall taps a gentle, calming rhythm against the windows. Sitting beside Dominico in a thin blue sweater, Rosalind Tomassini puts on a weak smile and stares at her cup of coffee. “You two looked so gorgeous in the photos and videos. The chapel looked beautiful, as well.” Her slightly veiny hand slowly tilts her mug on the gilded saucer. “Alfeo's cousin helped us with the paperwork,” Dominico says flatly. “I wish you just told us. Called me the night before at least. You know I really wanted to be there.” Mrs. Tomassini flings him a disappointed look and combs back her