All Chapters of The Mafia's Bride : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Forewarning; Life is not always a bed of roses. This chapter contains violence, please skip if you're not comfortable.Chapter 61AnnalisaThe water was cold.But I didn't care.After days of sweat and filth clinging to my skin, of enduring the irritating stench filled in this warehouse, I had appreciated every second of the bath Giovanni finally allowed me. I scrubbed until my fingers started to hurt and my skin started to sting. God knows how hard it was holding back the urge to cry as I brushed my teeth with trembling hands, desperate to erase the taste of his lips on mine, his hands, his control, and most especially their sour-tasting food.Now, as I curled up beneath the thick blanket that reeked of Giovanni's cologne, I allowed myself to sink into the mattress. I was so tired. The exhaustion in my bones was unbearable, my arms and legs felt so heavy, all I wanted at the moment was to close my heavy eyes. I wanted to sleep.But then, life always had other plans. The door to the

Content Warning: This chapter contains depictions of sexual violence, which are necessary for the story’s progression. Every detail serves a purpose and is not intended to glorify or justify violence in any form. Reader discretion is advised, thank you.Chapter 63AnnalisaI used to think pain had a limit. That the body would eventually shut down, fold in on itself, and drift somewhere safe when things got too unbearable. But it turns out, I was dead wrong.Because pain wasn’t just a sensation—it was a living, breathing thing, wrapping itself around me, digging its claws into my skin, whispering in my ear that this wasn’t even the worst of it. I wasn't even close to the worst Giovanni could present, yet.My stomach had dropped when the guard that Giovanni had instructed to bring his whip, obeyed without hesitation. And it had felt like I was living in a bad dream when a sleek, coiled whip landed in Giovanni’s outstretched hand. He tested it by letting the leather slitter between his

Chapter 65CristianoHave you ever tasted the kind of anger that makes you want to tear the whole world apart? The kind that sits heavy in your gut, weighing you down like chains, but also fuels you like the purest shot of adrenaline?That was me.My hands were steady, my breathing even, but inside, I was a storm waiting to be unleashed. Giovanni had taken Annalisa. My Annalisa. And that bastard was about to learn that “you don’t touch what belongs to me and live to tell the tale.”The convoy of blacked-out SUVs tore down the rain-slicked streets, slicing through the city like a pack of wolves hunting prey. Ronald’s men had met us on the way, just like he promised, bringing an arsenal that would make a warlord proud.“Boss,” Ricardo muttered beside me, clicking a round into his rifle. “We’re locked and loaded.”I nodded once, eyes locked on the warehouse up ahead. It stood on the edge of the docks, hidden in the shadows, metal walls rusted and stained with time. The kind of place wher

Chapter 67AnnalisaYou know that feeling… that feeling of wanting to crawl out of your own skin? That feeling that makes you want to genuinely peel it off and start over because no amount of scrubbing, no amount of soap, no amount of water will ever make you clean again?That was exactly how I felt.I was sitting on the edge of my queen size bed, wrapped in some ridiculous fluffy robe I've never worn before, while the female doctor kept insisting I had to get treated first. Stitches, antibiotics, something about blood loss. I wasn’t really listening.“I need to take a bath,” I said, my voice coming out barely more than a whisper despite all her professional advice.The doctor frowned. “Madam, you need medical attention—”“I NEED TO TAKE A BATH!” I snapped, gripping the arms of the chair so hard my nails dug into the expensive upholstery. My chest was heaving. My throat burned.The room fell into silence. Bree shot the doctor a look, something pleading, something desperate like a “giv

Chapter 69Annalisa I guess it’s true what they say—some wounds never heal. We just learn to live with the scars, pretending they don’t hurt.This quietness was the worst part. It stretched so long, suffocating, like I was at the point of being strangled to death. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, tracing invisible patterns with my eyes. The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on Bree’s lap, comforted by the only person who made me feel safe in this nightmare that had become my new life. But now, Bree was gone.My room was too silent, except for the occasional creak of the wooden floors and the distant sound of birds outside. Grace had checked on me once, asking if I wanted breakfast. I didn't mean to, but I had snapped at her, told her I wasn’t hungry, didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to talk. I hated that she kept trying to be nice when all I wanted was to be left alone. But now, lying in bed with nothing to do, I realized I was wrong. I wished she hadn't left me alone l