All Chapters of Mafia Men VI - Alessandro's Ruin: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ “Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice was barely audible. She leaned in, her forehead pressed against mine, “Why?” she repeated, “Well... because you did it to me. You took everything I hated about myself and made me live in it, drown in it. And now?” her hands slid up to cup my face, her lips just brushing my ear as she hissed, “It’s your turn.” I clenched my teeth, fighting the instinct to lash out at her, to tell her to stop, to end this insanity. But I knew if I said a word, if I gave her even an inch, this madness would spiral out of control. I needed to get it over with once and for all. “You don’t like this, do you?” she murmured, her voice honey-sweet, she took another drag, the ember glowing bright, and then tilted her head, exhaling the smoke directly at my neck. It clung to my skin, suffocating, and I fought the urge to jerk away. I kept my eyes fixed on the wall, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Her breath was warm agai

Viviane ☩═✦═☩ Stella’s favorite pink gown. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The silk clung to me in all the ways it used to cling to her like it was made for her and no one else. My hands trembled as they smoothed over the fabric, my fingertips skimming the delicate spaghetti straps, the soft sheen of the silk, the open back that dipped low. It felt wrong and right all at once, wearing this. Like I was trespassing into a memory that didn’t belong to me but still clung to me like a second skin. My vision blurred, and I had to blink hard to clear the moisture pooling in my eyes. She lent it to me. I remember the way she smiled as she handed it over, the way she laughed and said, “You’ll look better in it than I ever could.” She was lying, of course. Stella lit up every room she walked into, and in this dress, she looked like a star. She lent it to me but I never got the chance to wear it. And I never got the chance to give it back. My chest tightened as I wrapped

Viviane☩═✦═☩“Alessandro,” Evangeline began casually, twirling her wine glass by the stem, “I’ve been thinking about what you said in Nikolai’s office the other day.”I didn’t even realize my hand had tightened around my fork until I heard the faint scrape against the plate. My eyes flicked to her briefly, then instinctively to Alessandro, who sat across the table.He frowned at her, “What about it?” Evangeline tilted her head slightly. She lazily moved her fork through the air, like she was painting an invisible picture. “Oh, nothing really. It’s just something you said stuck with me,” she sipped her wine slowly, “That little comment you made about how ‘boys don’t get abused,’” she said, mimicking his words, her voice lilting mockingly. “And then you added, what was it?” she snapped her fingers, “Ah, right, ‘boys enjoy it.’”I froze in place, unable to bring the fork to my mouth. Did she really just say that? Here? Like this? My eyes went to Francesca sitting at the far end and she

Francesca sat in the chair, trembling, her hands clutching the fabric of her skirt. Her tear-streaked face darted between the women surrounding her, searching for sympathy.but she found none. Evangeline adjusted the tripod, the camera framed Francesca perfectly. Allegra crossed her arms, “You know, Francesca, the thing about the truth is, it always comes out. Whether you say it yourself or someone else drags it out of you, that’s up to you.” Francesca sniffled, dabbing her face with a trembling hand. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done,” she stammered, her voice uneven. “Oh, we’re way past thinking,” Delilah snapped, stepping closer. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor, “We know exactly what you did. To Alessandro.” Camilla stood at the back of the room. Her eyes bore into Francesca, filled with years of pent-up rage and sorrow. She didn’t say a word, she just looked at that woman with a new kind of hatred. Francesca’s eyes darted nervously from one face to the nex

Viviane☩═✦═☩I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the stranger looking back at me. Dark circles clung under my eyes. My lips were cracked. There was dried blood at my temple, a bruise blooming beneath it. I barely recognized myself. I didn’t know how long I walked or how many miles passed beneath my feet before I ended up here—some tiny bed-and-breakfast in the middle of nowhere. The owner didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, just handed me a key and a warm plate of food like she knew I needed both more than air. She even gave me clothes. They were too big, hanging loose on my frame, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I dropped onto the bed, my limbs aching, my body screaming for rest. But the second I closed my eyes, they were there. Their faces. Their eyes. Their blood. I sucked in a breath and forced them away. I did what I had to do. I avenged my sister. My brother-in-law. I ended the men who took everything from me. From Felicity. And yet, I