All Chapters of Mafia's Lost Princess: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

IsabellaI must have stood there staring at the letter for a while because Alessandro suddenly took a step towards me and snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, drawing me back to reality."Is everything alright, princess?" Alessandro asked when my eyes finally focused on him. I forced a smile and stretched out my hand, not wanting to speak. He placed the letter in my hand and turned to leave. I shut the door and leaned against it. Damon was still on his phone call. I wanted to call him and tell him that I had a letter and that I was scared of opening it. But he didn't look like he was going to be done anytime soon, so I pushed myself back to my seat.After taking a couple of calming breaths, I opened the envelope to reveal a folded paper. With another deep breath, I opened the letter to read words I wasn't familiar with:"Dear Isabella,Do you love him? The man who raised you. Do you love him? Do you see Pablo as a father? Because if you do, I'm sure you would like to save his lif

Damon As I planned to go back upstairs, Miguel walked in. I turned to Alessandro. "Brief him," I said as I turned to walk up the stairs. Isabella had moved from the couch to the window I had been standing at earlier. Her back was to me, and I couldn't help but glance at her shapely figure in the dress she wore. It did wonders in showcasing her delectable curves, and my arousal stirred inside my pants. Now was not the time for such distractions. I knew we would likely argue, but we needed to address the issue of Pablo. "We're going back to Avalia," I repeated. Her head whipped around, making her ponytail sway before cascading down her back. "Pablo?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes. I shook my head. "We're not going to save him. He doesn't deserve to be saved." Isabella bit her lip and turned her head away, as if she couldn't bear to look at me. "Why?" she asked in a breathy voice. I walked over to her bed and took a seat. I explained the time I went to Sicilia to look fo

Damon I felt exhausted. Watching Isabella have a panic attack had taken too much from me mentally. The question, however, was whether or not I would find Pablo for her. I wasn't interested in wasting resources, neither did I want to have her devastated, but I wouldn't tell her. It looked like I had come to a decision. Isabella had swayed me yet again in a direction I didn't want to go. That woman was dangerous. She didn't know it, but the power she held over me was strong. "Alessandro," I called him from the top of the stairs. "Yes, sir," he said once he came into view. "Put a hit on Pablo. Looks like we're going to have to find him after all." Alessandro looked confused. I didn't blame him, after all, I had told him not so long earlier that we wouldn't be finding Pablo. Besides, it was late. Nighttime was the time the mafia in Rome wanted to play. It wasn't a time that I was fond of working. I knew there would be too many restrictions on movement. "We will move in 10 minutes

Damon The suite was an aftermath of a war zone. The door had been broken down and was hanging off the hinges. The expensive furniture inside the living area had been upturned and used as a makeshift barricade. Behind the largest couch were a few droplets of blood. Corpses littered the floor and the walls bore bullet holes and bloodstains. On the stairs lay another pile of bodies, one hanging off the railings, looking like it would fall with a slight nudge. Behind me, I could hear my men turning the bodies around to see if they recognized any. More bodies littered the hallway to the suite. The pristine white marble and walls were stained with drips and puddles of blood, while bullet holes decorated the walls at strange and abrupt places. The chandelier that once beautified the hallway lay shattered on the floor. I stood at the end of the hallway, staring out at the stained glass into the street below. I knew I wouldn't find Isabella in her room, but my hand twitched desperately to o

Damon Finally, when the last bullet casing hit the ground, the only sound was the steady thumping of the beat. It served as a driving force, matching my steps as I made my way up the stairs to the second floor of the club. A hallway greeted me, its lights flashing from blue to green to purple, hurting my eyes. Doors were placed at regular intervals, most likely leading to private rooms that one would pay a fortune for. I could sense the people inside, their fear evident on their young faces. One by one, I opened each door, but none of them led to the room I was looking for. I continued until I reached the last one at the end of the hall. Without much warning, I kicked open the door. The sight was different from the others. Instead of the red light, the room was brightly lit with a normal white one. It was decadent and gilded with gold, from the floor to the ceiling. Seated behind the desk was a man about my age. He looked surprised, making me think that the room was soundproof.