Page 74 of Dark Mafia Bride

“Yes, it is.” His voice is firm as he crouches in front of me, tilting my chin up gently before dabbing at the cut with a soft gauze. “Besides, I needed a reason to touch you without you protesting.”

The silence stretches between us at his confession. I feel his thumb linger on my jaw, his breath brushing against my skin as he focuses on cleaning the small cut. He’s so close that I feel his every exhale, feel the way his gaze darts over my flushed face.

“What are you thinking about, Bella?” His voice is rough, the sound of it pulling me deeper into this moment.

“I wasn’t...I’m not...” My words trip over each other, but they’re no match for the pull of his gaze.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, and I scoff, trying to push past the heat rising in my chest.

“I wasn’t thinking anything dirty if that’s what you think,” I snap, but I know I’m lying.

He doesn’t look away, his thumb sweeping over my skin again. “I didn’t accuse you of anything,” he says, his voice deceptively calm. “I just asked what you were thinking about.”

His thumb is dangerously close to my lip now, and my mind flashes back to that moment when he taught me how to pleasehim. I can feel myself leaning in, just a fraction, caught by the intensity in his hazel eyes.

I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, his face is only a few inches from mine, and his fingers skim along my jaw, brushing against my cheek. It sends a shock of electricity through me, and I press my legs together, my body reacting before my mind can catch up.

His eyes follow the movement, and he clenches his jaw before pulling away from me. I can see the struggle on his face, in his eyes, even though he’s trying so hard to hide it. It sends a rush of heat through my entire body, a rush that makes my heart hammer.

“I’ll go take a shower,” he says, rising to his feet and carrying the box with him.

As I watch him retreat into the bathroom, it dawns on me that us being this close is affecting him just as much as it’s affecting me.

And it’s not just sexual.

There’s something else there. Something deeper...something scarier.

Something we both can’t risk happening.

24

ETTORE

It’s the morning after the fire that nearly claimed Mirabella and her family. The fire that has brought us back to square one—her resenting me because of Abruzzi’s meddling.

I slip out of bed before dawn, take a long, hot shower, and settle into my office before anyone else stirs. Anger churns inside me—at Abruzzi for stalking my wife, at Mirabella for defending him, and at myself for failing to keep my promise to protect her.

Now, it’s midday, and the phone in my hand remains stubbornly silent as I await answers. Last night, after Bella finally drifted off to sleep, I had told Luca I needed to know everything about the fire—both the official reports and the information he had to unearth from the shadows.

Minutes stretch into an eternity as I pace the length of my office, frustration building with each step. Finally, Luca’s message buzzes through my phone:

Preliminary findings showthe fire was caused by faulty wiring. But I’ll dig deeper.

I grit my teeth, my fingers flying over the screen as I reply, instructing him to talk to the construction workers on the houseacross from hers, the neighbors, even down to anyone who might’ve wandered near recently. I don’t care how long it takes. I need to know if this was truly just an accident.

A frustrated sigh escapes me as I sink back into my chair, my mind racing while I tap my fingers restlessly on the desk. Faulty wiring? A bitter scoff escapes my lips.

It may be an explanation, but I don’t trust it, especially since there are countless reasons why that fire could have ignited. Maybe someone is after me, but it seems unlikely. My enemies haven’t dared to come after me since the events of three years ago when I dealt with the Falcone family, another powerful mafia faction who attempted to overthrow me.

I took them down with ruthless precision. I exploited every weakness I could find, legally and illegally, leading the Falcone enterprise to bankruptcy before buying the company out of just for the fun of it. I even tipped off the authorities who raided their drug factory in Texas. Their downfall was a spectacle, broadcast for all to see. While the average person believed it was simply the end of a billionaire finally caught in a web of illicit dealings, those in the shadows knew I was the one pulling the strings.

No one messes with The Reaper.

So if someone is trying to toy with me now, it’s because they think they’ve uncovered my weakness.

My thoughts drift to other possible culprits behind the fire: Abruzzi. I know he saved Mirabella’s mother, and for that, I should be grateful. But it doesn’t escape me how conveniently he appeared just in time to play the hero. Even if he didn’t set the fire—though he certainly risks his life for someone as selfish as he—his obsession with my wife, his constant surveillance, it gnaws at me.

Fuck that. The thought makes my blood boil.

---