All Chapters of Betrothed To The Ruthless Mafia : Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

"Ti amo, Enzo De Niro... Mi dispiace..." [I love you, Enzo De Niro... I'm sorry...]Then, with a heavy heart, she delivered the final blow. The sound of his labored breathing and the sight of his eyes widening in shock only proved that it was all real. She had just... She had just... She gasped but didn't—couldn't step away from him. Not when the realization came with a painful stab to her soul. At that moment, Enzo felt a searing pain in his chest, as though his heart had been pierced. He struggled to draw breath, his vision blurred, and his words were reduced to a gurgling gasp. Blood filled his mouth, choking him. Before he could comprehend what was happening, she stumbled back, and his gaze fell on the knife lodged deep in his chest which was now surrounded by a spreading crimson stain. When he forced his eyes back to hers, the realization hit him like a thunderbolt—he had been stabbed. Not by anyone else, but Lucretia, the woman he had let down his guards for, the woman he had

As Vicenta stood up and turned on the stereo, the room was filled with lively rhythms of music. She had successfully lifted Ville's spirit with her conversation and laughter and now wanted to do what she loved doing most since she was a little girl—dance.With a smile on her face, she began moving her body to the beat, swaying her hips, and moving her arms accordingly. Ville watched from the corner of the room, his eyes captivated by every step, every spin, and every gesture. He had seen her dance before, but tonight was different. Tonight, it felt like she was dancing for him alone, pouring her heart and soul into every movement. And then, that beautiful smile which always had the power to make his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful, perfect even! As she danced closer to him, her eyes locked onto his, she beckoned him to join her. Even when he wasn't a skilled dancer, he couldn't resist. He rose from his seat and she took his hands, guiding him into the rhythm. Their bodies move

NEXT MORNING•••Rosana stood in the doorway with a warm smile spreading across her face as she watched the twins giggle and play with their uncle. They had been distressed when he was still in coma and wouldn't stop asking questions about him. But now, seeing them return to their carefree selves, filled her with joy. Sergio, too, seemed whole again, even though he was hellbent on finding those behind the attack. With Enzo's loss of memory, it was a bit difficult, but Sergio wasn't giving up. He was going to find whoever was responsible and make them pay.Taking a deep breath, Rosana took a step backward and retreated down the hall. The atmosphere was tranquil, a sense of peace and normalcy that had been missing for so long. It was as though the storm had finally passed, leaving behind happiness and laughter. Yet, amidst everything, a twinge of sorrow lingered. Lucretia still mourned the loss of Enzo, unaware that he was alive. It was a burden Rosana longed to lift. Her heart ached e

Everyone in the room saw what had happened, but she refused to get any help from them. The pain was a cruel and heartbreaking reminder of the life that was slipping through her fingers, the death of her brother, and the betrayal of the man she loved. With her body and mind rebelling against his touch, against his very presence, she chose to suffer alone. "Please... Let me get you to the hospital" Enzo said, panic laced in his voice as he took a careful step forward towards her."No!" She screamed in pain and took a step backward, still clutching her stomach. Her face was now slick with sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Rosana, please!" Sergio begged, almost falling on his knees. "You are losing a lot of blood!"Rosana felt herself slipping away. Her vision became blurry, but before she could collapse to the floor, Enzo held her. She screamed and tried to fight him off, but it was of no use. The pain was too much, too intense and she didn't have any more strength to keep up

TWO WEEKS LATER•••Sergio stood in front of the window, his hands buried inside the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers. Gone was his usual polished demeanor, now replaced by a more rugged, sleep-deprived look. His usual sleek hair was disheveled and there were dark circles under his eyes. For two weeks, he had stationed himself outside Rosana's residence, refusing to leave despite her father's countless rejections. He also made no attempt to force his way in, choosing instead to patiently wait for Rosana's acceptance even when he knew he didn't deserve any. He had killed her brother, and then, their unborn child... Memories from that night tormented him restlessly, slicing through him like a razor-sharp knife. No physical torture could hurt more than thinking of her, of relieving those moments—the tears in her eyes, the anguish etched on her features as Enzo took her away, the blood that had seeped out from within her, the loss of their unborn child... Those haunting memor