Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 209

Chapter 209

Snowflakes

The thoughts goes until he closed the distance two long wrides and pulled me into bús arins without a word.

The sudden warmth of his embrace enveloped me strong, familiar, laced with the faire seran of pine and leather that always clung to him.

My heart, still racing from shock, softened instantly, I leaned into him gracefully, beyond words, letting my cheek rest against the solid wall of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my car.

For a long moment we stayed like that, the tension in the room casing into something quieter, heavier with unspoken history,

When he finally pulled back, his large hands lingered on my shoulders, his dark eyes holding a deep, unmistakable apology, Raw and unguarded in a way Roc rarely allowed himself to be.

“You must have heard the news,” he said, voice low and rough, swallowing hard as he searched my face. “We’ll find whoever leaked your secrets, Snow. We’ll make them pay. Sue them, ruin them… whatever it takes.”

I nodded quickly, the lump in my throat making words difficult

“I… I should get going,” I managed, the sentence tumbling out in a rush. “I’ll pack my bags and… and leave.”

I turned and hurried out of the study, my steps too fast, too frantic, more like fleeing than walking.

The hallway blurred past as I pushed into my bedroom, the door clicking shut behind me.

My hands shook as I yanked the suitcase from the closet, tossing clothes in haphazardly, trying to outrun the ache building in my chest.

I didn’t hear him follow, but suddenly he was there filling the doorway with his broad frame, stopping me cold with nothing more than his presence.

Roc held a photograph in his hand, edges yellowed with age, and he looked at me with a quiet intensity that pinned me in place. Slowly, deliberately, he crossed the room and extended it toward me.

My fingers hesitated before closing around the photo. I turned it over, and my breath caught.

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Tue, Fen TV

Chapter 209

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A beautiful woman smiled up at me. Radiant, dark–haired, eyes sparkling with life and mischief. She was the exact replica of Viviana.

If not for the faded quality, the style of the dress the date stamped faintly in the corner, I would have sworn it was her.

Goosebumps raced across my skin like a chill wind, raising every hair on my arms. I looked up at Roc, searching his face for answers, my voice lost somewhere in the shock.

“Mother died around this time twenty–two years ago, Snow,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving mine. The words carried a weight that seemed to settle over the entire room. “That’s why Father was so…. undone the other day. Please don’t take his words to heart. And don’t ever disappear on us again without a trace.”

He stepped closer, voice dropping to something raw and carnest. “We love you. You’re Frost. You belong here with us. Always.”

I swallowed past the tightness in my throat, clutching the photo.

Forever.

He didn’t ask where I’d been these past few days, nor why my phone had gone silent, my location untraceable. And deep down, I knew why.

He didn’t want to hear the truth that was already screaming from every gestures.

I had told the family I was attending a charity event with Cupid, but no such donation had made the news.

The lie sat heavy between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore.

Roc watched me for a long, quiet moment, something tender and aching in his dark eyes.

Then his gaze drifted to the midnight–blue gown still hanging on the stand, silk catching the soft light like spilled starlight.

“Dad brought it for you,” he said softly, voice low enough that it felt like a confession. “He

lost.” handpicked it himself. Said it was… compensation. For the one you

The words landed gently, but they struck deep.

Roc gave me one last lingering look, then turned and walked out, pulling the door quietly behind him. The click of the latch echoed louder than it should have.

I swallowed hard, the bile I’d been fighting all morning rising bitter in my throat. My gaze to the half–packed suitcase on the bed, clothes folded in hurried, messy piles, as if running would make any of this hurt less.

A shaky sigh escaped me, trembling on the exhale.

fell

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Chapter 200

I wondered what my biological father would think of me now

Would he see the circulating headlines, Snowflakes Frost, fragile, unstable, mad and feed disappointment? Shame? Or worse… pity?

I won’t know until I see him but I doubt it’d be something positive.

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