Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 37: Poisoned

Nadia’s pov

The loud, sickening sounds echoing from the floor directly above the Master’s bedroom drains sleep completely from my eyes.

It isn’t just one voice. I can distinctly hear four different female voices.

It sounds less like a bedroom and more like a war zone — the crashes, the thuds, the frantic rustles of sheets and skin. God. It’s overwhelming. How does he even have the energy for four women at once?

Lorenzo didn’t come back to the room after he left. But after a few hours, the noise began.

I grab a pillow and press it tightly over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. I wait, praying for him to be done and eventually, the room above falls quiet. I let out a shaky breath and sink deeper into the mattress, trying to rest my numb muscles.

Then, it begins again — louder this time.

Frustration boils inside me. This is so unfair. He’s disturbing the entire mansion, he doesn’t even care that the staff or anyone else might be asleep.

I swing my legs off the bed and walk into the closet. I pick up a heavy coat and pull it over my shoulders, then walk out of the room. The hallway is much worse, the sounds echo against the walls, so loud it is almost deafening.

I take the grand stairs down to the living room, where the sounds finally fade into a low background hum. Curling up on the plush sofa, I hug my knees to my chest and finally drift into a restless sleep.

A soft tap on my shoulder snaps me awake.

Slowly, I peel my eyes open and lift my head up to see an unfamiliar face staring down at me with a soft smile.

“Good morning, Mrs Romano,” the young woman says, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

I sit upright on the couch, my body aching terribly from sleeping in a bad position. I look up at her and smile back. She suddenly reminds of Clara. I miss her so much.

“Good morning,” I manage to rasp out.

“I see you couldn’t sleep well last night,” she says kindly. “I’ll make you a cup of cinnamon tea to keep your stomach warm,”

“Thank you,” I murmur as she turns toward the kitchen.

The staff here seems much more polite than the ones back in Italy. That’s a relief. I lean my head back against the cushion, feeling completely drained.

My thoughts strays back to last night. Lorenzo is not just a monster in his daily life — he is relentless in every aspect. If he ever uses that kind of brute force on me, it will break me.

My thoughts remains all over the place until I hear footsteps on the grand staircase, females giggle echoing echoing down the hallway. I sit upright and look toward the direction of the stairs.

Four beautiful women walk down the stairs, looking thoroughly spent despite their efforts to hide behind makeup. Their hushed chatter cuts off the moment they spot me sitting on the couch, four pair of eyes locking onto mine.

‘Wow… she’s so beautiful,’ one whispers to the others.

‘She is,” another whispers. “Pity she can’t satisfy the Don. He still has to turn to us.”

‘Who knows? Maybe she’s just a log in bed. All that beauty… tsk, tsk. What a waste.”

I just sit there and listen as they speak in hushed tones but I can hear everything clearly. I roll my eyes and take my gaze away as they walk out of the mansion.

Honestly, I don’t care who he sleeps with — as long as he keeps his hands off me.

I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my temples. A moment later, the maid from earlier returns, holding a steaming ceramic mug.

“Here you go, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” I say, taking the mug. She gives another soft smiles before quietly stepping away.

The rich, sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air. I bring the rim to my lips and take a slow sip. It’s delicious, sending a soothing warmth down my throat and into my chest. I take another long sip, savoring the heat — until a sharp, unnatural twist hits my guts.

My stomach suddenly locks up, a severe, grinding pain spreads through my mid section, feeling as though my insides are being shredded by rusted blades.

A cough escapes my throat. It starts small, but slowly it becomes a violent convulsion. I try to stand but my legs give out instantly.

The mug slips from my fingers, shattering against the hardwood floor.

I crash to my knees, clutching my stomach as agony rips through my body. I cough again — harder this time — and a thick, splash of crimson hits the floor besides the broken glass.

Blood.

I’ve been poisoned.

I open my mouth to scream for help for help, but no sound comes out. My throat is constricted, leaving me gasping frantically for air as the burning pain spreads through my veins.

I scan the large living room through burned vision. No maids. No guards. Empty.

Is this how it ends?

My vision begins to darken at the edges, my eyes growing heavy. Right before everything goes black, a sharp cry echoes from the hallway.

“Nadia!”

I blink weakly, catching the blurry figure of Hannah rushing toward me across the room.

Then, the world slips away and I fall into total darkness.