All Chapters of The Capo's Deadly Bride : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Marco’s fists slowly relaxed, but his glare remained fixed on Frank as they followed him to the car. The drive to the Donato mansion was filled with silence, the evening shadows stretching long across the road. Delilah sat beside Marco, her mind racing, her thoughts circling back to her aunt in the hospital. She wanted to be there, not heading toward a forced confrontation with Marco's grandfather. But there was no way out.When they arrived at the mansion, Frank led them through the grand halls to the room where Elder Donato awaited them. The air felt cold and unforgiving. The grandfather, sitting in his wheelchair, gestured for them to sit on the two chairs placed side by side in front of him. Marco didn’t hesitate, settling into his seat with his usual confident demeanor. Delilah followed, though her legs felt heavier with each step.Two of the grandfather’s men stood beside them, flanking their seats, their presence a silent but clear reminder that this wasn’t just a conver

As soon as Gaga left, Delilah's phone buzzed, and a notification popped up. The credit alert read ten million dollars. Delilah's grin widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.Later that night, Delilah and Ruby strutted into one of the city's most luxurious clubs, both dressed in sleek mini dresses. The black gloves they wore added a touch of mystery to their look, ensuring they blended into the crowd without drawing too much attention. The neon lights pulsed in sync with the music as they made their way through the lively crowd.A voice crackled through their earbuds—it was Helen, back at the café, monitoring everything through a set of computers. "Mr. Bayou’s at the elite table, six o’clock, surrounded by five bodyguards," Helen reported smoothly. "He's watching the dancers a little too closely."Delilah's eyes swept across the room, and soon, she spotted him—Gaga's husband, Mr. Bayou. He was sitting at the exclusive table near the dance floor, his gaze locked on the dancer

Delilah’s lips curled into a seductive smile, her voice dropping to that low, teasing tone she knew Marco couldn't usually resist. "I've been eyeing this golden wristwatch. It's exquisite," she purred, her fingers trailing lightly across his chest, "and quite expensive."Marco’s eyes flickered, but there was no smile, no shift in his stance. Delilah expected his usual smirk, the one that always preceded him giving in to her whims. But instead, his expression hardened."Do you think you can try the same stunt you pulled at the boutique?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it. Delilah froze, her fingers stilling on his shirt. For a moment, she wondered if she’d gone too far. He resisted? This wasn’t like him. Marco always played the game, always indulged her when she pushed. But now, his expression had darkened, and the usual playfulness in his eyes was replaced by something harder, something... dangerous.Delilah felt a flicker of uncertainty. The flirtatious co

Delilah, who had been watching their interaction from the base of the stairs, hardly paid attention to their exchange. Her curiosity pulled her in a different direction, something far more intriguing. She stepped down, her heels clicking softly against the floor, and turned her attention to Marco."What’s going on, Marco?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly. There was an unusual air in the mansion—an energy she hadn't felt before.Marco looked at her, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. "Today is the D-day."Delilah opened her mouth to press for more information, but before she could, the heavy front doors creaked open. A group of men marched in with their own guards in tow. Their presence immediately filled the room with an unspoken authority. They moved like wolves, commanding every inch of the space with their powerful stride. Delilah’s breath caught as she noticed the thick, gleaming gold chains around their necks, glittering under the chandeliers. It clicked in her

Marco’s own arousal stirred, but he held it back, respecting the boundaries they had carefully navigated since their marriage.Delilah, sensing his gaze lingering on her, huffed slightly."You're crossing the line," she said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice."Crossing what line?" Marco replied, his voice teasing as he raised an eyebrow.Delilah smirked, pushing him lightly, forcing him to shift to the other side of the bed."That’s it. Your side of the bed. Stay there. And don't cross this."Marco glanced down at what she called "this"—a pillow she had placed down the middle of the bed, dividing it into two clear halves.He hadn’t even noticed it when he first climbed in, too focused on her.With a sly grin, Marco leaned over, grabbed the pillow, and tossed it to the floor without a second thought."I married you," he said, his tone playful yet firm, as he shifted closer to her, pulling her against him. "That means I’m allowed to do this."Delilah’s breath hitched as