Semua Bab I Sold Out a Mafia Boss: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Ricardo’s POVI have the information I need. Enzo is dead. The briefcase is gone. And Andre is nothing more than a bloody corpse at my feet. But none of it matters. At least not right now.Because when I turn, I see Lana, standing there in the room, hugging herself like she’s trying to hold her own body together. Her body trembles, and her eyes are wide and haunted.I did this. I brought her here. Put her in this situation. The realization fills me with so much annoyance and fury. If anything had happened to her… I swallow hard. I don’t know what I would do.After I get my hands clean, I lead her outside, towards the car. She doesn’t resist, but she’s shaking. I can hear her uneven breathing, see the way her fingers twitch because she’s traumatized. Just before we reach the car, I stop.“Hey.” Lana flinches, she is startled by the sound of my voice. I exhale slowly, reaching up to adjust a strand of hair behind her ears. My fingers brush against her cheek, forcing her gently to look

Charles’ POVThe moment we step into the hotel room, I’m still in shock. Ricardo Borrelli was in the same building as me, at the exact same time, and I never ran into him. How the hell did that happen? I pride myself on being aware of my surroundings, on knowing who’s in my vicinity at all times, yet somehow, he slipped past me. That doesn’t sit right. Alma hums softly as she moves around the room, pulling off her earrings and placing them on the nightstand. She doesn’t seem bothered. She’s already letting the night fade, ready to leave it behind. I wish I could do the same. “You coming to bed?” she asks, glancing at me as she pulls back the covers. “Not yet,” I mutter. Alma shrugs, not pressing the issue, and climbs into bed. Within minutes, she’s breathing steadily, lost in sleep. I stay by the window, thinking.Then my phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out and see Davida’s name flashing on the screen. “Yeah?” I answer. “Muchacho,” Davida says. “We got a problem.”

Ricardo’s POV I can’t stay in the same room with Lana. The longer I do, the more tempted I am to teach her a lesson in a way I might regret. So, I get dressed, nothing serious, just a basic white tee, blue jeans, and my shoes before heading for the door. Anywhere is better than here. I need space. I need to think. Before stepping out, I pause, glancing over my shoulder. Lana is still curled under the duvet. I know she’s awake. "You can try to leave," I tell her. "But just know it’ll be a futile effort." Lana shifts slightly and her arm peeks out from beneath the covers. "I wasn’t planning on leaving," she says. Then, with feigned sweetness, she adds, "I don’t wanna make big daddy mad." I watch as she rolls her eyes, pulling the duvet tighter around her like she couldn’t care less. I chuckle, nodding my head repeatedly as I absorb her blatant disrespect. Oh, she thinks this is funny. She’ll learn soon enough that disrespecting Ricardo Borrelli comes with consequences. No exc

Ricardo’s POVI lean back in the leather seat of my car as my fingers tap absently against my knee. Davida Gonzalez had just handed me an opportunity to teach Lana her biggest lesson ever, and I never let an opportunity go to waste. Initially, I had planned to spend the night drinking or watching strippers, anything to distract myself from the presence of Lana in my hotel suite. But now? Now I have a much better idea. "Take me to the shopping mall," I instruct my driver. When we arrive, I walk through the luxury boutique with my eyes scanning the racks of dresses. I am not looking for elegance, I am looking for control. And I find it in a black silk outfit that barely counted as a dress. It has thin straps crisscrossing over the back, leaving most of the skin exposed. The neckline is scandalously low, and the hem barely covers enough to be considered decent. I smirk, running my fingers over the expensive material. Lana will hate this, which means she will fight wearing it, and

Charles’ POV I am on my way to Davida’s mansion with a boxed gift at the back of the car. The driver drives smoothly while I rest my arm on the door. My thoughts are about Alma. She seemed like she was excited to go for Maria’s birthday with me. So why the hell did she suddenly decide to sit this one out? It doesn’t sit right with me, but I shake the thought off. Right now, I have to focus. As we pull up to the massive gates of Davida’s estate, a security guard steps forward and raps his knuckles against my tinted window. I roll it down, preparing to introduce myself, but before I can even get a word out, the guy's eyes widen in recognition. “Welcome, golden cop,” he says with a smirk. I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head. Then, the guard signals to the men behind the gate, and within seconds, the massive gates swing open. The driver drives in, and I take in the scene before me; luxury cars lined up neatly, expensive suits and glittering dresses everywhere. I step out o