MY MAFIA MATE

CRACKS IN FACEADE 🚨

Elena stepped into the apartment with her heart still racing from Dante’s touch. The scent of him clung to her skin despite the quick spray of perfume she’d used in the elevator. She barely had time to compose herself before Marcus appeared in the hallway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“You’re back,” he said flatly. His eyes scanned her from head to toe the slightly messy hair, the faint flush on her cheeks, the way she avoided direct eye contact. “How was your ‘friend’?”

The air felt thick with suspicion. Elena forced a casual shrug, hanging up her coat. “It was fine. We just lost track of time catching up. You know how it is.”

Marcus stepped closer. Too close. “I called Sarah. She said she hasn’t seen you in weeks.”

Elena’s stomach dropped. She opened her mouth, but no convincing lie came fast enough.

“What’s going on, Elena?” His voice was low, dangerous in a completely different way from Dante’s. “You’ve been distant. Coming home late. Dressing differently. And every time Dante’s name comes up, you get this look…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, moving toward the kitchen. Marcus grabbed her wrist not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop her.

“Don’t lie to me.” His eyes searched hers desperately. “Are you seeing someone?”

The question hung between them like a loaded gun. For a split second, Elena considered telling him everything. Ending this madness before it destroyed them all. But the memory of Dante’s hands, his voice claiming her, his promise to protect her, held her tongue.

“No,” she lied, pulling her wrist free. “I’m just… unhappy, Marcus. We’ve been unhappy for a long time. You know that.”

Marcus’s face twisted with pain and anger. “So you’re punishing me by acting like this? I’ve been working my ass off for us for you!”

Elena felt tears burning her eyes. “Working for us? Or for yourself?”

The argument escalated quickly. Voices raised. Accusations flew. Marcus didn’t have proof, but his instincts were screaming. When he finally stormed into the guest room and slammed the door, Elena collapsed onto the couch, shaking.

Her phone vibrated.

Dante: I’m waiting. Don’t make me come there.

She stared at the message, torn. Every rational part of her knew she should stay home and try to salvage what was left of her marriage. Instead, thirty minutes later, she slipped out of the apartment while Marcus slept.

Dante’s penthouse was dark except for the city lights streaming through the windows. The moment she stepped inside, he pulled her against him, kissing her with fierce possession.

“You’re late,” he growled against her lips, already stripping her clothes off. “I don’t like waiting.”

“I had a fight with Marcus,” she breathed as he lifted her onto the kitchen island. “He’s suspicious.”

Dante’s eyes flashed with dark satisfaction. He spread her legs wide and thrust into her without warning, deep and hard. “Good. Let him suspect. Let him feel what it’s like to lose you.”

Elena moaned loudly, wrapping her legs around his waist as he f****d her with raw intensity. The marble was cold beneath her, a stark contrast to the heat of Dante’s body. He gripped her thighs hard enough to leave marks, pounding into her relentlessly.

“Say you’ll leave him,” he demanded between thrusts. “Say you’re done pretending.”

“Dante…” she gasped, lost in pleasure.

“Say it.” He slowed his pace, teasing her, keeping her right on the edge. “I need to hear it.”

“I… I’m yours,” she cried out as he hit that perfect spot. “I’m done pretending.”

Dante rewarded her with a brutal kiss and harder thrusts until they both shattered together. He stayed buried inside her afterwards, forehead pressed against hers.

“I’m not a patient man, Elena. Every night you spend with him is torture for me. I want you in my bed. In my life. Fully.”

She clung to him, tears slipping down her cheeks. The love she felt for this dangerous man was terrifying. But so was the thought of losing everything she’d known.

As Dante carried her to his bed for round two, Elena knew the facade was cracking faster than she could repair it.

And soon, it would all come crashing down.