Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 273

Chapter 273

Chapter 273

Snowflakes

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The sound of my cellphone pierced the quiet room like an alarm, yanking me from the deepest, most boneless sleep I’d had in weeks. I fumbled blindly for it on the nightstand, thumb swiping to answer before my eyes were even fully open.

“Snow? Where are you? The meeting starts in twenty minutes.”

Quince’s voice came sharp, urgent snapped me awake. Sunlight streamed through the curtains. Morning. Shit.

I bolted upright, heart lurching as I scanned the room.

“Uh… yeah. I’ll be there soon.”

I ended the call and exhaled shakily, pressing the phone to my chest. The bedroom looked… reset. Pillows fluffed, sheets are new and smoothed, the faint scent of clean linen and something herbal lingering in the air. My skin felt fresh, washed, lotioned, no trace of last night’s sweat and cum except for the deep, delicious ache radiating from between my thighs and up my spine.

I shifted to stand and immediately froze.

“My goddess… I can’t walk.”

The words slipped out in a whisper. My legs trembled like a newborn foal’s when I tried to put weight on them. Every muscle protested; my pussy throbbed with a sore, used heat that made my cheeks burn even as fresh arousal flickered low in my belly. Proof. Undeniable.

I sank back onto the edge of the mattress, breathing through the twinge, when the most heavenly smell drifted in. Coffee, warm bread, something savory and the door eased open.

Cupid filled the doorway.

Casual. Devastatingly so. A black shorts, a soft white t–shirt clinging to the hard lines of his chest and shoulders, bare feet silent on the hardwood.

His dark bangs had fallen forward, shadowing one eye, making him look younger, softer… almost boyish. Except for the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world worth waking up for.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and loving, a gentle rumble that settled somewhere behind my ribs.

I nodded, suddenly unsure. What were we now? After Ages. After last night. After everything.

My phone buzzed again. Dove.

“Yes?”

“Snow, will you come pick me up at the roadside? My crazy car decided to disgrace me today.”

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17:49 Wed, Feb 18 AM ·

Chapter 273

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“Sure. Send me the location.” I disconnected and looked up. Cupid hadn’t moved. Still watching. Still patient.

“I… uh… I need to go to H.O.W.L.”

“I made breakfast,” he said softly, crossing the room in slow strides. “And you’ll take something for your body.” He leaned down, brushed his lips over mine, gentle, lingering. “How do you feel?”

His palm settled warm and steady against my lower back, thumb tracing soothing circles over the ache there. I wanted to melt into him. Wanted to believe this tenderness was real, that we’d somehow landed on the perfect page despite the blood and bit of betrayal still staining the edges of us.

“I feel… so sore,” I admitted, voice small.

He smiled, just a flicker, soft at the corners.

“When will you be back?”

I sighed wearily, then managed a tired smile.

“Not sure. Depends on how the case goes. And I’m already late. Still need to pick up Dove on the way.”

He searched my eyes for a long moment, then kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, like he was memorizing the shape of my mouth.

“Should I pack a lunch for you then? Since you can’t stay for breakfast?‘

I paused, blinking up at him. This side of him, domestic, attentive, almost husband–like made my chest ache in the best way.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’d love that.”

“Let me choose your outfit today.” He straightened, already moving toward the closet. “What will you have for dinner?”

I watched him, broad shoulders, easy grace as he rifled through hangers. My eyes followed every

movement.

“You’re… staying till night?”

He glanced back over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Can I?”

The question was so careful, so unlike the man who’d fucked me raw until dawn, that my heart squeezed. As if this house weren’t already his in every way that mattered.

I nodded eagerly, too eagerly.

“Please.”

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Chapter 273

“What will you have for dinner so I can get it ready?”

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He pulled out dark–wash jeans and a crisp, long–sleeved cream top. Simple, professional, flattering. Perfect.

My heart bloomed stupidly at the sight. For one dizzy second I could see it. Every mornings like this, him picking my clothes, me coming home to him, us caring for each other in quiet, ordinary ways. A life. A real

one.

“I… don’t know. Anything good.” I hesitated. “Should I get you something on my way back?”

He paused, considering, then nodded once.

“Bring me good news. Good news about you.”

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