All Chapters of The Mafia's Little Obsession: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Nicholas's Point of ViewThe morning lights filtered through my window penetrating my eyes. As I dress up for work I couldn't help but remember the incident from the other day, the look in her eyes was amusing, she was quite different from any other girl I'd ever come across. Putting myself together and picking up my briefcase, I shuffled downstairs quietly taking one step at a time, the anticipation of seeing Elena fluttered my heart but I put myself in check before walking into the dinning. The silence of the dining room was deafening, except for the soft clinking of silverware as the maids set the table. I sat at the head, staring at my untouched plate of food, an unshakable irritation brewing within me. My coffee had grown lukewarm, much like my patience. "Where is Elena?" I finally asked, my voice calm yet laced with steel.The maid closest to me froze, her hands trembling as she placed a fresh cup of coffee by my side. “S-sir, Mrs. De Luca hasn’t come down yet,” she stammered.

Nicholas’s Point Of ViewThe moment the door opened, I felt my breath catch. There she stood, a vision in crimson, the fabric hugging her curves as if it were molded for her. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to admire her, the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the faint glint of irritation mixed with admiration in her eyes only added to her allure. Then, as if to remind me of the game we were playing, the darker part of my mind took over. I imagined tearing that dress off her, exposing the fire I knew she hid beneath that defiant exterior.But her voice brought me back to reality, sharp and clipped as she descended the stairs. “Can we go?” she asked, her tone indifferent, as if she were already bored of my presence.I adjusted my suit and stood up from the couch I sat on. “After you,” I said coolly, gesturing for her to lead.She swept past me, the hem of her gown brushing against my leg like a taunt. We walked in silence to the car, her chin held high, her back straigh

Elena's Point Of View The rustle of keys on the iron door startled me awake, dragging me out of a restless, haunted sleep. My body ached from hours spent curled on the hard, cold floor, and my head throbbed as if it had been pounded by a hammer all night. The memories of the previous evening came rushing back, Nicholas’s iron grip on my arm, the panic as the door slammed shut, the suffocating darkness that had swallowed me whole. My breath hitched as I sat up, the stale air of the tiny room pressing down on me like a physical weight.The door creaked open, and the light streaming in was almost blinding. “Miss Elena,” came a soft voice. I squinted up to see Elizabeth, the head maid standing there, her expression a mixture of pity and discomfort. “The master instructed me to let you out.”I didn’t wait for her to say another word. Scrambling to my feet, I pushed past her without so much as a glance, my legs shaking beneath me as I made my way down the hall. My feet carried me on autopi

Nicholas's Point Of ViewThe room reeked of authority, mahogany furniture, muted light from the chandelier, and the faint scent of leather and ink. This was my sanctuary, the nerve center of my empire, where deals were struck, wars were planned, and lives were decided.Sitting behind the massive desk, I adjusted the earpiece in my ear and leaned back in my chair. The cold surface of my Glock brushed against my hand as it rested on the desk, a silent reminder of the world I ruled. Across from me, Alejandro stood, his expression stoic but his sharp eyes never missing a thing.“Mr. De Luca,” the voice on the conference line crackled with a mix of hesitation and greed. It belonged to Jason Smirnov, a known black-market investor notorious for brokering weapons deals. “The shipment is impressive. High-grade firearms like these… they’ll fetch a premium in Eastern Europe. But the price you’re asking? It’s steep.”I allowed a brief silence to stretch, the kind that made men sweat. “And yet, yo

Elena's Point Of ViewI woke to a blinding throb in my skull, as if a mallet was pounding relentlessly against my temples. Groaning, I pressed my palms to my forehead and struggled to sit up. The room tilted slightly before righting itself, and the events of the previous day came rushing back in a whirlwind of chaos and anger. Nicholas’s furious eyes burned in my memory, his rage palpable as he towered over me in his study. The files, the damning signatures, the horrific truths, every detail played on a loop in my mind. Nesa Caistro. The Ghost. D’Angelo.“What the hell does it all mean?” I whispered into the stillness of the room. My parents’ murder, the sinister revelations about my father’s foundations, and Nicholas’s connection to it all, it was a puzzle with missing pieces, but I was determined to solve it. My thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening.Nicholas strolled in, impeccably dressed as always, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl. His expression was