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An adorable mafiosoEN
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Dante Bellandi, the eldest son of a ruthless Reggio Calabria clan leader, is thrust into a vortex of power following his father’s sudden death. At just twenty-three, Dante becomes the unexpected heir to an empire built on blood and betrayal, facing enemies lurking in every shadow—and allies whose loyalty is as fickle as their moods. Amid the chaos, his world collides with Svetlana’s—a gifted ballerina who lives for the spotlight, unaware of the dark secrets that rule the underworld of Italian crime. An unexpected abduction tears her from her dreamlike existence, forcing her to confront a perilous reality where love and revenge are two sides of the same coin. As Dante and Svetlana grapple with their own demons, an unforeseen attraction sparks between them, threatening to dismantle the walls they’ve built to protect themselves. But in the world of the mafia, love is no luxury—it’s a weapon that could destroy them both. Caught between conspiracies, fractured loyalties, and a legacy that threatens to consume him, Dante must choose: fight for the power he inherited… or risk everything for the one woman who could save him—or doom him.
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The hours dragged on, and by midday, Fabio appeared carrying a paper bag and a neatly folded change of clothes draped over his arm. His expression left no room for refusal.“Sir, you need to eat something and change.”Dante barely turned his head.“I’m not hungry.”“This isn’t just about hunger, sir. Do you really think she’ll want to see you like this when she wakes up?”Dante narrowed his eyes, exhaling with impatience.“I’m not leaving her alone.”“You won’t. I’ll stay here.”Fabio set the bag on the table and crossed his arms. He wasn’t afraid to challenge Dante when it came to his well-being.“Go, shower, get some rest, and change your clothes. You’re a mess.”Dante clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to leave her—couldn’t—but Fabio was right. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Not when Svetlana needed him strong.With a resigned grunt, he stood from the chair, stretching muscles that had stiffened from too many hours in the same position.“I’m not leaving the clinic.”“You don’t have t
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The clinic door closed behind her with a hollow thud, and the cold night air slapped her face. Fiorella stopped for a moment, inhaling deeply, as if trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions storming inside her. But it was useless. A low, guttural growl escaped her clenched lips."Hope that bitch dies," she muttered through her teeth, feeling the rage burn her from the inside out.She hated her. With every fiber of her being.Dante was supposed to be hers. Not that intruder’s. Not that cheap woman who had appeared out of nowhere to steal what rightfully belonged to her. She’d watched him grow—from a scrawny boy into a powerful, commanding man. She had loved him in silence for years, dreaming of the day he would finally see her as something more than just the little girl who had always been by his side.She clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. No. She wasn’t going to let that Russian whore ruin what she had waited her whole life for.Her mind drifted, involunta
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Time had stopped for Dante.Since the doors had closed behind the stretcher carrying Svetlana, he hadn’t looked away. He stood there, unmoving, like a predator lying in wait—but his chest was tight with a kind of anguish he didn’t know how to contain. His mind clung to a single thought:Is she still alive?The hallway of the private hospital was cold and impersonal, lit by harsh fluorescent lights that clashed with the dried blood on his hands. Her blood. Svetlana’s blood.Fabio stayed close, watching him with a mix of concern and resignation. He knew this wouldn’t end well either way. If Svetlana died, Dante would burn everything to the ground.And if she lived... he would too.Inside the operating room, the atmosphere was frenetic.“I need more saline! Her pulse is still unstable!” barked the surgeon, his voice steady but urgent.Bright surgical lights cast sharp shadows over faces hidden behind masks. Svetlana lay on the table, her skin pale—almost translucent—beneath the bloodstai
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The silence in the room was thick, like the haze of an impending storm. Dante’s men stood firm, some with arms crossed over their chests, others with a hand resting near the weapon on their belt. The polygraph still blinked on the monitor, recording the final echoes of the interrogation, while the conspirators at the end of the line shifted with growing unease.One of them—the tallest and most heavily built—clenched his jaw and slowly pulled his hand from inside his jacket. His gaze darkened, and before anyone could react, he drew his gun and aimed it straight at Dante.“Nobody move!” he barked, his voice rough, taut with adrenaline.Time froze. The metal of the gun caught the light from the lamp on the table, and in the blink of an eye, three more followed suit, drawing their pistols in swift, precise motions.The traitors exchanged looks—fury mixed with grim resolve. But then, the tide turned in an instant.“Drop your weapons.”Fabrizzio’s voice cut through the air with chilling cal
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The man reacted instantly, landing a sharp punch to her stomach that knocked the air out of her lungs.“Shhh…” he mocked, clamping a hand over her mouth as he dragged her out of the closet.But Svetlana wasn’t going down without a fight.She kicked with all her strength, her shoe slamming into the man’s shin, earning a grunt of irritation. But he was too strong. Her slender frame stood no chance against his size, against the brutal force with which he held her.Still, she refused to give in.She writhed, twisting her torso violently, her nails clawing at his arm in a desperate attempt to break free. She moved like a cornered wild animal, fighting with everything she had.The man growled.“Fuck, you’re a pain in the ass!” he spat, trying to pin her down with his weight.But in her desperation, Svetlana saw her chance.In one swift, instinctive move, she brought her knee up with all her strength and struck him square in the groin.The man let out a choked noise, and his grip loosened.S
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The night wrapped the Bellandi estate in a deceptive silence, broken only by the occasional creak of wood and the distant whisper of wind slipping through the trees. The old cellar, hidden behind a row of cypress trees, was the perfect refuge for those who wanted to speak without being overheard. The air inside was thick with smoke and distrust, making the atmosphere heavy like a storm about to break.While Dante still struggled to regain his composure, to stop thinking about her, in another corner of his domain, betrayals were simmering slowly.“This whole thing is bullshit,” a man said in a rough, sharp voice, pounding his fist on the table.His gaze locked onto another present, a veteran with scarred hands, who frowned and straightened in his chair.“In my fifteen years working for the Bellandi, no one had ever doubted my loyalty,” he growled, clenching his jaw.“They’re not just doubting yours,” a second man interjected, his tone dry and cutting like a knife.“He doubts everyone,”
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