All Chapters of A Mafia’s Trillionaire for Christmas : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

HE IS DANGEROUS.~LAUREN’S POV~The question hit me like a punch to the stomach. I flinched and looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t know,” I murmured. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just stuck because I don’t know how to stop loving someone who doesn’t love me back.”Sophia moved to sit on the edge of her seat. “Lauren, that’s not something you should beat yourself up over. You don’t just wake up one day and stop caring about someone who was such a huge part of your life. That’s not how it works.”“I know that,” I snapped, frustration bubbling up. “But it’s been weeks, Sophia. How am I still here? Why can’t I just move on like he has?”She tilted her head, studying me for a moment before answering. “You think Patrick’s moved on just because he’s pretending to? Lauren, that’s not how it works for him either. People like him just hide it better, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t feel anything for you.”I let out a bitter laugh, wiping my eyes. “I don’t believe that for a second. If he

WORK DRAMA.~LAUREN’S POV~ I hated being late. Rosette was going to have my head for this. Just three days before the big break, I was already imagining the lecture waiting for me at work. I couldn’t wait to finish this project and head home for Christmas. Although I knew my family would be disappointed I’d be coming home alone, it was for the best. The sharp ding of the bell over the café counter pulled me out of my thoughts. “Miss, your cappuccino is ready,” the barista called with a bright smile. “Thank God,” I murmured under my breath, weaving through the small crowd to the counter. “One cream-filled cappuccino,” she said as she handed it over, her cheerful demeanor catching me off guard. I smiled back, pleasantly surprised. “Thank you.” This café had stepped up its game. Last time I was here, the staff couldn’t care less about customer service. It felt like I’d had to beg just to get a simple latte. But these new hires? They might make me a regular again. Balanc

THE ORDER~LAUREN’S POV~Alexandro was sitting across from me. That fact alone had my thoughts spiraling. Had he gotten even hotter since the last time we spoke? The sharp cut of his jaw, the lazy confidence in the way he leaned back—it was as if the universe had carved him to drive me insane. But did that even matter? Of course, it didn’t. He was here as an important guest, and I needed to keep my calm. Avoiding his eyes, I turned to face Rosette, clinging to some pretense of calm. “Why was I called in here?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady, though my pulse was anything but. I could feel his gaze on me, cold yet burning, like a silent accusation. My heart pounded in my chest, every beat a reminder of my growing panic. Was he angry? Did it have to do with ‘that text’?Oh, God. The text. He’d seen it—he had to have. Read every single word. “Oh, Lauren,” Rosette’s voice interrupted my crazy thoughts, a wicked smile curling on her lips. “You must be happy to se

I SET THE RULES.~ALEXANDRO’S POV~When my assistant, Hilda, mentioned the deal Storm Media was offering to cover my event, I hesitated. “It’s a good opportunity,” Mario had said, his tone firm. “A little publicity could go a long way.” I wasn’t convinced. The last thing I needed was cameras and microphones poking into my business, especially now. The timing couldn’t have been worse—not with the recent death of the Russian mafia lord hanging over us like a storm cloud. Antonio had called me the moment it happened. “He was assassinated,” he said flatly, no emotion in his voice. Assassinated. One bullet and everything could unravel. The Russians and Italians had always been at each other’s throats, but this? This could ignite something bigger. If the killer wasn’t found—and soon—everything I had built would crumble. My connections, my deals, my reputation. All of it was gone in the blink of an eye. The situation was already tense. Last month alone, there were multiple sh

THE BLOODY MAN.~LAUREN’S POV~ I stared at the chaotic mess in my wardrobe, a sea of outdated clothes staring back at me like a cruel reminder. It had been months since I’d gone shopping, months since I’d felt the need to care about my appearance. I sighed, turning away, and running a hand through my tangled hair. I was tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. And I seriously didn’t want to attend this ball. But I had no choice. My camera and gear sat ready by the edge of my bed as if mocking me. The stress of work, the expectations, the ‘unavoidable’—all of it presses me down like a heavy cloak. Rosette’s words from earlier still played in my head, like a broken record I couldn’t turn off. “You don’t want Patrick as your escort?” she had repeated, her cold, cutting gaze fixed on me, as though daring me to argue further. I’d taken a breath, trying to steady my voice. “No matter what excuse you have, it’s just wrong, Rosette.” She’d laughed—a sharp, looking down-upon