All Chapters of The Mafia Man wants my Heart : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The grand foyer stretched before me, a masterpiece of timeless elegance and quiet opulence. The floors were polished marble, smooth and gleaming beneath my feet, reflecting the soft glow of the golden chandelier hanging above. High ceilings made the space feel impossibly vast, and intricate crown moldings framed the room with refined detail. A sweeping staircase curved to the second floor, its railing carved from dark mahogany, polished to perfection. The scent of leather, wood, and something distinctly Marco—masculine and expensive—filled the air. I took a slow breath, trying not to seem too affected by the sheer grandeur surrounding me. This wasn’t just wealth. It was power, woven into every inch of the space. Marco shut the door behind me, the quiet click echoing in the vast room. I felt his presence at my back, close but not touching. “Come on,” he said smoothly, walking ahead. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable.” I followed him through the open archway that led into a

MIA CRUZ Three days. Three days, and I hadn’t seen Marco. I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself I had more important things to focus on—work, my bookstore, my life. But my mind had other plans. Sitting at my desk, I tapped my pen against my notepad, staring blankly at the emails I was supposed to be responding to. The words blurred together, my focus slipping every time I remembered the way his lips had lingered just inches from mine. The way he pulled away like he was testing me, teasing me. The way I had wanted him to stay. I groaned under my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. Get a grip, Mia. “You okay?” I snapped out of my daze, looking up to see my co-worker, Naomi, peering at me from across the desk. She raised a brow, eyes full of suspicion. “Yeah. Fine,” I lied, sitting up straighter and forcing my attention back to my laptop. She smirked

Marco leaned in, his nose brushing against mine, his breath warm and intoxicating. My own breath hitched, my lips parting instinctively.And then—He pulled away.A slow, deliberate retreat, his lips curving into something smug, something wicked.Heat flared in my cheeks as frustration tangled with the ache in my chest.“Are you—” I swallowed, gripping the fabric of my dress. “Are you teasing me?”Marco smirked. “Maybe.”I narrowed my eyes, but before I could retort, he leaned in again, his fingers brushing against my wrist, his voice a low murmur against my ear.“But when I finally take what I want, Mia,” he whispered, “you won’t be questioning anything.”My stomach flipped, my skin burning where he touched me.And just like that, he straightened, composed as ever, like he hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down.I exhaled shakily, my heart still racing as he walked ahead, effo

MIA CRUZI tossed and turned, my sheets tangled around my legs, my mind refusing to give me peace.No matter how many times I shut my eyes, the scene played on repeat—the gunshot, the screams, the way Marco’s arms had caged me against him as he rushed me out the back door.The way blood had spread across the pristine floor, staining the elegance of the night with something raw and violent.I squeezed my eyes shut, willing sleep to take me, but it never came.And then—BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!My alarm blared through the room, dragging me into the present. I groaned, pressing my hands over my face. The sharp ring was an unwelcome reminder that life didn’t pause just because my world had been turned upside down.I forced myself to sit up, my body feeling heavier than usual. My heart was still racing from memories I couldn’t shake, my hands curling into fists in my lap.Everything had changed last night.

The city lights flickered past as the car glided smoothly through the streets. The tension between us had lessened, but something still lingered beneath the surface—unspoken words, unanswered questions. Marco sat beside me, his elbow resting against the door, fingers lightly tapping against his knee. His gaze was fixed ahead, but I could feel his attention on me, like a gravitational pull I couldn’t escape. “You barely ate today, did you?” His voice was quiet, but there was an edge of certainty to it. I hesitated before admitting, “I wasn’t really hungry.” His jaw twitched. “You need to take care of yourself, Mia.” I let out a soft laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Says the man who probably hasn’t had a full meal in days.” Marco smirked, finally turning to face me. “Touché.” The car slowed as we neared a sleek, high-end restaurant. The kind of place where the we