บททั้งหมดของ Safely in the Arms of the Mafia King: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Emilio stormed into his office, his pulse thudding violently in his temples. The moment the door shut behind him, his patience snapped.With a growl, he hurled the half-full mug of coffee from his hand across the room. The ceramic shattered against the wall, dark liquid splattering in chaotic streaks down the pristine surface. The sharp sound echoed, but the burst of violence did little to dull his anger.He braced his hands against the edge of his desk, fingers curling tightly as he tried to breathe through the frustration twisting inside him. His muscles ached from tension, his mind racing in circles. He would love to be hitting the gym right now, the need to pummel something, anything raged within him.What the hell is she thinking?Aurora seemed oblivious, no, worse than that, stubborn. Blind to the danger that was closing in around her. Vescovi’s men had opened fire in a public diner, and yet she sat there acting like she could just walk away, like her world hadn’t been turned up

Emilio stood behind the bar in his office, fingers clenched around a half-empty glass of whiskey. His nerves were raw, his temper wound so tight it felt like it could snap at any second. The past week had been nothing but waiting, waiting for answers, waiting for something to make sense and in the meantime, he’d been stuck here, sleeping in his office and pacing the club like a restless animal. He hated waiting most of all. Hated the unknown.The door creaked open behind him, and without turning, Emilio barked, “Tell me you’ve got something.”“I’ve got something,” Luca’s voice replied dryly.Emilio turned, glass still in hand. “Finally.”Luca stepped in; his face was grim. “It’s not good.”“Didn’t figure it would be.” Emilio tossed back the last of his drink and set the glass down hard enough to rattle the bottle beside it. “Start talking.”“Shawn’s in deep with Vescovi,” Luca began. “Deeper than we thought. He’s been running small errands for a while, moving products, driving guys ar

Aurora wiped down the bar for the third time, not because it needed cleaning, but because she needed something to keep her hands busy. It had been days since Emilio had spoken to her — days filled with long hours of scrubbing floors, wiping down tables, and cleaning the endless mirrors that lined the club's walls. She didn’t mind the work. In fact, she found the steady rhythm of cleaning oddly calming. It kept her mind from spiraling and from dwelling too long on the mess her life had become.The club’s food had been a surprising comfort. The chefs didn’t just sling together greasy bar snacks; they cooked real meals, warm, hearty dishes that left her feeling grounded, like something in her world was still solid. It was one of the few things that made her feel remotely normal again.The lounge where Emilio had originally put her had become something of a safe haven. It wasn’t luxurious and the couch wasn’t exactly designed for sleeping, but it was hers, for now.Eva, one of the club’s

Aurora sat on the edge of Emilio’s desk, her fingers gripping the wood so tightly her knuckles turned white. She had cried her heart out, even if it was just for a few minutes. Now, she was angry.At everything. At Shawn, for the way he had used her. For the way he had drained her dry, emotionally, and financially, and then had the audacity to sell her to Vescovi like she was nothing more than a debt to be repaid. At Vescovi, for dragging her into his mess, for making her a target, for making her feel trapped even when she had finally managed to leave Shawn behind. Now she was really angry at Emilio.For making her feel small. For kissing her like he wanted her, like he needed her, and then tearing her down the next second, as if she wasn’t even worth his time. She knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who belonged in his world. She wasn’t flashy or wild, wasn’t seductive and dangerous like the women she’d seen around his club. She wasn’t anything special, but he didn’t get to make her fe

Aurora woke with the low hum of the fan vibrating above her. For a moment she allowed the memories of last night surface, but then she quickly squashed them out. The familiar ache in her lower back reminded her she was still sleeping on a couch, but this morning, something felt different. Sharper, more focused.She sat up slowly, stretching her arms overhead as sunlight filtered in through the slats of the small window near the ceiling. For a moment, she just breathed. No tears. No shaking. Just resolve.She wasn’t going to let them, any of them, break her. Not Shawn, not Vescovi, and definitely not Emilio. Her eyes flicked toward the low table next to the couch, where a fresh plate of food sat waiting. Sliced sausage, cheese, fruit, it was all simple and deliberate.Emilio.Of course it was him. She stared at the plate for a long moment, her stomach rumbling at the sight, but she didn’t reach for it. It was a stark reminder of the dinner she hadn’t eaten the night before. Out of pure