Marked By The Mafia – Episode 41&42

                        ✧༺✰༻✧

                 ✮{…HER AGONY…}✮

When they broke apart, foreheads nearly touching, Aurora’s voice came out low and sharp.

“Are you going to meet her… or are you staying here with me?”

___

Matteo’s grip on his phone tightened, the faint vibration of another incoming message echoing in the silence between them. His eyes didn’t leave hers, dark and stormy, as though weighing a war only he could fight.

Aurora’s heart pounded so loud it threatened to burst out of her chest. She hated the way her voice had cracked, hated the way desperation laced her words. But more than anything, she hated the thought of him leaving… to go to her.

Seconds stretched, each heavier than the last. The chime of the doorbell sounded again, more urgent this time.

Matteo finally spoke, his tone flat, unreadable.

“Aurora…” He trailed off, his gaze flicking briefly to the glowing screen in his hand.

Aurora clenched her fists. “Don’t you dare say her name”

His jaw ticked, but he said nothing. Instead, he placed the phone face down on the nightstand and leaned closer, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear.

“You want an answer?” His breath was warm against her skin.

Aurora’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, caught between fury and longing.

“Yes” she whispered.

The next sound in the room was the sharp buzz of another message lighting up his phone.

He didn’t move and then his lips brushed dangerously close to hers as his voice rumbled low.

“Bold of you to think I’ll leave here when I’m this hard”

Aurora froze, then slowly a smile curved across her lips. Satisfaction flickered in her eyes, he had chosen her over Bianca.

Her fingers trailed down his chest, lingering just above the towel at his waist. 

“Good answer” she whispered, her smile turning sly.

The doorbell rang again, echoing through the suite, but neither of them moved. Matteo’s gaze never left hers, his smirk deepening as if daring the world outside to keep waiting.

Aurora leaned in, brushing her lips against his ear. 

“Let her knock until her hands bleed. You’re mine tonight”

Matteo’s grip tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

“Damn right I am”

And without another thought, he kissed her hard, deepening it as he slide in while Bianca’s desperate knocking went unanswered.

Outside the suite, Bianca paced in front of the door, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She bit her lip, restless, eyes darting back and forth as though expecting Matteo to open any second. When the silence stretched too long, she pulled out her phone, ready to call him this time around.

A slow clap echoed through the hallway.

Bianca froze.

“Well, well… look who we have here” Maya’s voice rang out, rich with mockery. She approached in a flowing black robe, her hair loose around her shoulders, clearly dressed to head somewhere else but pausing at the sight of Bianca.

Bianca snapped her head up, surprise flashing across her face before she smoothed it over with a dazzling fake smile. 

“Maya! You’re looking dashing tonight. What’s the secret?”

Maya smirked, arms folding across her chest. “Why don’t we leave that and focus on why you’re standing in front of my brother and his wife’s suite, disturbing their peace?”

Bianca chuckled awkwardly, shifting her weight. “Oh… that. I just needed to clarify something from him, nothing serious”

“Whatever it is can wait” Maya cut in sharply. 

“You should have walked away after the first ring when no one answered. But because of the bitch you are, you stayed. Now leave quietly”

Bianca’s fists curled at her sides, nails digging into her palm as fury boiled inside her. But her smile remained fixed, sweet as poison.

“You’re right,” she said softly, forcing her voice into something polite. “Talk to you later”

Without another word, she turned and walked away, her smile vanishing the second her back was to Maya.

Maya watched her retreat, her smirk widening. “That’s what I thought” she murmured, before striding off into the night.

Maya moved through the hallway, her black robe trailing behind her. She pushed open the glass doors leading to the poolside, the cool night air kissing her skin. 

Without hesitation, she untied the robe and let it slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. Left in nothing but her black bra and panties, she exhaled with a sly smile.

Her eyes scanned the pool area, expecting a certain someone leaning casually against the railing with that cocky grin of his. But the space was empty. The disappointment was small, but it still stung.

“Tsk,” she muttered under her breath, before shrugging. “Typical”

With a graceful leap, Maya dove into the shimmering blue water, her body slicing through with ease. She resurfaced in the center, slicking her hair back as droplets stream down her skin.

“So refreshing” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes and floating for a moment.

Footsteps echoed on the tiled floor.

Maya smirked without opening her eyes. “You’re late,” she teased. “But you’re forgiven”

The silence that followed made her brows knit. She opened her eyes slowly only to see Blade standing there, his arms crossed, gaze fixed on her with something unreadable.

Her smirk faltered, just slightly.

“Expecting someone?” Blade asked, his voice low, a shadow of amusement hidden in his tone.

Maya tilted her head, the grin returning to her lips.

“Maybe” she purred as she swam to the edge, her fingers curling over the tiles as she pulled herself up. Water streamed down her curves as she stepped out.

She caught Blade’s stare and smirked, snatching up her robe but not bothering to cover herself yet.

“Close your eyes, kid,” she teased, wringing the water from her hair. “You’re the youngest here… don’t let me ruin your innocence”

Blade groaned, his jaw tightening as he dragged his gaze away just slightly.

“Oh please, I’ll be twenty-one soon”

Maya chuckled low, slipping the robe over her shoulders but leaving it open, deliberately taunting him. She sauntered closer, water still dripping on the tiles.

“Still a baby to me” she whispered, tilting her head as her eyes danced with mischief.

Blade’s gaze lingered a second too long before he muttered under his breath, almost groaning, “You’ve got a fire body though”

Maya’s brows arched, amused. She leaned closer, chuckling softly. 

“Careful, baby boy… compliments like that might make me think you’re growing up faster than you should”

Blade tried to play it off with a shrug, but his ears betrayed him, burning red.

Ace finally walked in, a little out of breath, his shirt slightly rumpled.

“Sorry I’m late” he said, his eyes immediately finding Maya, still damp from her swim, her robe hanging loosely around her shoulders.

Blade smirked as he approached him. “You should thank me for keeping her company” 

He gave Ace a playful pat on the shoulder before strolling off, leaving them alone by the pool.

Maya stepped closer, water still glistening on her skin, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

“You are reading from www.mhiztaemy.com.ng”

“I forgive you this time” 

She teased, her voice low but playful. 

“But next time… I won’t”

Ace smirked, bringing two fingers to his temple in a mock salute. “Noted”

Her smile deepened, amused by his little act.

They heard the sound of footsteps echoed across the poolside. Both turned just as Vixen stepped into view, clad in a simple black bikini, her hair tied up, a towel draped over her arm.

She froze when her eyes landed on Maya standing far too close to Ace, droplets of water still sliding down her skin.

Vixen’s gaze darted from Ace’s face to Maya’s smirk, then back again. Something heavy clenched in her chest.

“Oh…” she muttered, her voice flat.

“Sorry for intruding. Continue, please” She turned on her heel before either of them could reply.

Ace’s brows furrowed. “Oh come on, the pool is for everyone” he called after her, trying to lighten the sting in his tone.

“Yes, please join us” Maya chimed in.

But Vixen didn’t stop. “It’s fine, really” she said curtly, her voice threatening to crack. She quickened her pace, clutching the towel tighter to her chest.

She didn’t realize when the first tear slipped free, cutting a hot path down her cheek before she brushed it away angrily.

•••

THE DELUCA’S ESTATE*

The DeLuca estate stretched wide across the hills, its tall iron gates guarded by men in black suits with guns at their sides. Beyond the gates, the driveway curved endlessly, lined with trimmed hedges and glowing lanterns that cast soft light on the path. Expensive cars, sleek, black and polished, sat parked neatly at the entrance like trophies.

The mansion itself rose high, built in white stone with massive windows that gleamed against the night sky. Golden lights spilled from the inside, revealing glimmers of wealth too hard to ignore. The marble steps leading to the main doors looked untouched by dust, and the crest of the DeLuca family was etched into the steel handles, bold and intimidating.

Inside, the richness was even louder. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, throwing diamonds of light across the walls. The floors were black marble, shining enough to mirror every reflection. The air smelled of cigars and expensive wine, the kind that only men of power dared to pour without counting.

At the center of it all sat Antonio DeLuca.

The man carried presence without trying. He lounged on a large, custom-made chair, almost like a throne, crafted in dark leather with gold details curling around its edges. His hair was streaked with gray, though still thick, combed neatly back. His sharp jawline carried the weight of years, his eyes dark and merciless, eyes that spoke of power and blood without a single word.

A cigar burned lazily between his fingers, smoke curling above his head as he watched the girls lined before him.

There were five of them left, all dressed in silk, their nervous hands clutching at their gowns as though they could hold their composure together. Ten had come, but five had already been dismissed with nothing but a flick of his hand.

Antonio leaned forward slightly, his voice smooth yet carrying the weight of command.

“None of you…” he drawled, his eyes scanning them one by one, “are worthy”

His lips curled, half amused, half disappointed. He was not searching for himself. He was searching for his son.

Nicholas DeLuca. 

Twenty-five years old, heir to his empire, and still without a wife.

The five girls trembled under Antonio’s gaze, their smiles faltering the longer he stared at them. With a flick of his hand, he dismissed them. 

Three turned quickly, grateful to escape, while two dropped to their knees, desperation clouding their eyes.

“Please, Don DeLuca” one begged.

“Just give me one chance. I can be the wife Nicholas needs”

The other clutched her gown tightly. “I will not disappoint you. Just one chance”

Antonio’s cold laugh filled the room. It was humorless, dripping with disdain. Slowly, he reached for the drawer beside his throne-like chair and pulled out a gleaming gun.

The girls froze, eyes widening in horror.

“You want a chance?” Antonio said, his tone calm, almost conversational. “Then take this as your test”

Before either could move, he raised the weapon and fired.

The gunshot cracked through the silence. One of the girls collapsed instantly, blood pooling beneath her head as her lifeless eyes stared upward.

The other screamed, stumbling to her feet. Her heels clattered against the marble as she fled the room, the sound of her sobs echoing down the grand hallway until it vanished.

Antonio lowered the smoking gun, placing it back on the table as if nothing had happened. He leaned back into his chair, exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke with complete indifference.

A guard appeared almost immediately, his expression blank. Without a word, he bent down and dragged the lifeless body across the floor.

Moments later, a maid entered, bowing her head respectfully before kneeling with a cloth in hand. She wiped the blood carefully, as though this was not the first time she had cleaned such stains from the Don’s floor.

Antonio took another slow puff from his cigar, his dark eyes fixed ahead.

“Find me someone better” he said coldly.

The last smear of blood had barely been scrubbed off the marble when the heavy doors of the hall swung open.

Nicholas DeLuca walked in.

Tall and broad-shouldered, his presence immediately filled the room. Dark hair framed a face carved with sharp lines, his jaw strong and lips set in a straight, unreadable line. His eyes, cold yet magnetic, flicked briefly to the faint crimson stain the maid was still scrubbing, but he did not flinch.

Every inch of him screamed control, elegance, and danger. The cut of his suit clung perfectly to his frame, each step echoing against the floor with unhurried confidence.

He was handsome, the kind of man who could make women weak with a single glance. Everything about him was the dream his father wanted women to chase.

And yet, he was not interested.

He had just returned from another series of blind dates Antonio had arranged. Fifteen women lined up one after the other, each trying desperately to catch his attention with their painted smiles and rehearsed charm. Not one of them aroused even the slightest flicker of interest in him.

He stopped a few paces from his father, his expression calm, though a faint shadow of irritation lingered in his eyes.

“Fifteen more tonight,” Nicholas said coolly, shrugging out of his blazer and tossing it over a chair. “Not a single one worth remembering”

Antonio’s lips curved into something between a scowl and a smirk, smoke curling from the cigar resting between his fingers.

“Then we keep searching” the Don replied.

Nicholas exhaled, loosening his tie, his gaze cutting back to his father with quiet defiance.

“And how many more do you plan to parade before me, hm?”

Antonio didn’t respond. He simply leaned back, the leather creaking faintly under his weight, and tapped ash from his cigar into the crystal tray at his side. His gaze was steady, heavy with dominance, but he did not argue.

“Prepare yourself,” he said, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “Tomorrow night, there will be twenty”

Nicholas let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his dark hair as he paced across the room.

“It keeps increasing, huh?” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “From five to ten, then fifteen… and now twenty? What next, thousands?”

His lips curled into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. He turned sharply, facing his father with a mocking tilt of his head.

“Now that I think of it…” Nicholas drawled, “maybe I’m g@y. Because tell me why none of the girls so far caught my interest?”

Antonio’s expression did not shift. He took another slow drag of his cigar, the smoke coiling lazily upward, while his silence pressed down like a weight.

Nicholas’ smirk lingered, but behind it, his jaw tightened. He was daring his father for a reaction… and getting nothing in return.

Antonio finally broke the silence, his deep voice carrying across the room.

“Join me for dinner,” he said, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly on Nicholas. “That is, if you’re still hungry after the little dinner date you just returned from”

His words cut sharp, laced with mockery but delivered in that calm, controlled tone that made Nicholas grit his teeth.

Nicholas gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable”

Antonio didn’t answer. He simply gestured toward the long dining table, where servants were already setting silver trays and uncorking wine.

Nicholas sighed and muttered under his breath, but he followed anyway.

•••

NEXT MORNING AT THE PENTHOUSE*

Aurora stirred awake gently. Her body was bare beneath the sheets, skin still humming with the memory of Matteo’s touch from the night before. She blinked, reaching out instinctively for him, only to find the other side of the bed empty and cold.

Her gaze shifted to the nightstand where a breakfast tray rested neatly, steam rising from a porcelain cup of coffee. Beside it, a folded note sat waiting.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked it up.

*Won’t be back till noon.

Aurora’s lips curved into a small smile despite herself. It was nothing extravagant, nothing romantic, but for Matteo it was different. A piece of him she rarely saw.

“Is my Matteo softening?” she whispered softly, tucking the note against her chest for a moment.

Sliding out of bed, she slipped into a pair of denim shorts and a loose white tee, tying her hair into a messy ponytail. With a deep breath, she left the bedroom, letting the morning light guide her steps toward the outdoor terrace.

The fresh air kissed her skin as she stepped outside. She inhaled slowly, tilting her face to the sky. Pulling out her earpods, she slid them in and scrolled through her playlist until soft music filled her ears.

She closed her eyes, letting herself drift.

Suddenly, arms wrapped tightly around her from behind.

Aurora’s eyes flew open wide as instinct surged through her. She twisted sharply, her training kicking in. She slammed her elbow back, her foot kicking hard against her attacker’s leg.

The figure wore a mask, but as Aurora fought to free herself, she noticed the shape of the body. It was a woman.

They tumbled together, momentum dragging them both to the floor. Aurora’s back hit the hard tiles with a crack, the masked woman landing heavily against her. The air rushed out of Aurora’s lungs in a painful gasp.

Then came the agony.

A tearing, searing pain bloomed deep inside her. Aurora’s hand shot to her stomach, her fingers instantly wet with warmth. She looked down, her eyes widening in horror as blood spread fast beneath her.

“No… no, no, no” she whispered, her voice breaking as the world spun.

The masked woman scrambled up before she bolted, her footsteps echoing into the distance. But Aurora did not chase. She did not even care at that moment.

Her vision blurred with tears as a scream ripped out of her throat, raw and broken.

Her hands shook violently as they pressed against her stomach, desperate and useless.

Her knees curled toward her chest as another wave of pain tore through her, and her scream collapsed into sobs.

The music still played faintly in her ears.

“Aaaahhhhhhh!” Her scream tore through the terrace.

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TBC😈

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