Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 275

Chapter 275: She Won In The End

Julian didn’t want her apology. There was something else he needed her to understand first.

Bianca’s brows pulled together. "She won in the end, didn’t she?"

"Did she? She didn’t, B. Yes, Luca’s mother left the famiglia but she still never got my father, not in the way she wanted. He didn’t love her the way he loved Carol. Don tried to hide his affection behind his usual steel of course, but we all knew, we knew that Carol was important to him. And when she left, my mother couldn’t take her place."

"What are you trying to say? That even if I win this battle, I still wont have Luca?" Bianca asked.

"I’m saying, I am worried about you. I am afraid for you. Bianca, I love you and I do not like what this quest is doing to you."

"I love your brother, Julian. And I cannot sit here and watch. I need to fight for my husband." she said. Bianca’s eyes were fierce, burning with determination, and even her voice carried an edge that made it clear she wasn’t speaking from weakness. She was holding herself in check—but only barely.

"As much as this hurts me, I think you should stop being the pitiful, abandoned wife and be a mafia wife." Julian said.

She needed to hear it. "You’re right. I am a mafia wife. I am Luciano Genovese’s wife and I have rights. You are brilliant, Julian!"

There was a dangerous pride in her tone. She was reclaiming herself in the sharpest way possible. Her mind was spinning, heart racing. Her body hummed with anticipation, remembering Luca’s touch, his heat, the night spent entwined and claimed. She had a right—no, a need—to take back everything she had held back.

"I’m not so sure we are headed in the same direction here." Julian said, a faint warning threading his words. He could feel her determination radiating.

"I have been limiting myself, Julian. I have been operating with fear of what Luca might do. He is my husband. I have rights he cannot take away. You said Don wanted to speak with me?" Bianca asked.

"Uh yes..." Julian admitted.

"Good." Her affirmation was brisk. She straightened, shoulders back, spine rigid with determination. She would step into her role fully, without apology, without restraint.

"So are we good?" Julian asked.

"Sure, of course. We merely had a fight. That’s normal. I have to go. Will you lock up for me?" Bianca asked. She wasn’t standing there anymore; mentally, she had already moved on to the next step, the next confrontation, the next claim she intended to make.

"Sure."

Bianca grabbed her bag and hurried out of the warehouse. She was a mafia wife and she had rights. Why the hell didn’t she think of that?

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