Marriage of Revenge: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mafia Vows of Blood and Love Book 1) by Love Elle

Author:Love, Elle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24—ANTONIO

Ipunch the air, sweat trickling down my back as I finish my warmup. Every strike carries years of stored violence, waiting to explode.

"Higher," Franco dodges, eyes tracking my fists. "Faster," he commands, respect threading through his voice - the kind you earn with blood, not the bloodthirsty anticipation rolling off this crowd like expensive cologne. They stare at my scars like they're reading fortunes. Not like Isabella, who looked at them with a curiosity that should've been revulsion. Does she see herself as the muse of these battle marks? Her father's handiwork carved into my skin?

"That's it," Franco's words cut through the hum of my focus, that endless well of rage that powers each swing. I recoil, preparing for an uppercut that almost lands on Franco's nose before restraint kicks in at the last second.

"Thanks, boss." Franco's grin is wry, acknowledging the near miss.

Henrik won't be granted such clemency.

The ballroom's transformed from wealth's playground to war zone, opulent chandeliers watching over makeshift violence. Anticipation thickens the air along with beer and high-end perfume, rich wine mixing with steak and gorgonzola, pasta and pizza - a feast fit for Isabella's father's particular tastes. The same man who once summoned a chef from Naples just for the perfect gorgonzola. When the chef failed, his throat was opened with the same emotion you'd use to sign a contract. As the man bled out on imported marble, her father's eyes never left my mother. Isabella was absent then, still wrapped in her bubble of ballet and innocence.

My mother didn't flinch.

Because she knew... oh, she knew that monsters wear Armani and sleep beside you, that love is just another weapon they use to destroy. Some lessons you learn too late.

"Three minutes." The announcement booms and the crowd surges with anticipation. They're here for blood - specifically Henrik's blood. Nothing entertains these vultures more than watching one of their own fall.

Connor and Radomir claim front row seats - today's losers getting prime view of tomorrow's winner. Connor's uncharacteristically quiet, that Irish charm gone cold as a corpse. Interesting. No smart remarks, no calculated jabs. Just silence and those eyes that see too much. Radomir, though? He's coiled rage in a designer suit, probably imagining both Henrik and me dead in a ditch.

Mrs. Lefevre commands the back of the room like a queen presiding over an execution. Sure, she's got an army of security around her, guarding her like she's the Hope Diamond, but she stands alone. Two heirs dead within days of each other. Some whisper about bad luck. I don't believe in luck - just carefully orchestrated "accidents" and perfectly timed coincidences.

And isn't it interesting how she doesn't look like a grieving mother?

I don't give a fuck about French mafia politics right now.

Not when she's there, wrapped in blue silk that's both too much and not enough. The dress clings like a lover's hands, revealing new scars I want to trace with my tongue. She's a daydream dressed in night sky colors - the

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.