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The Mafia's forbidden Love

The Mafia's forbidden Love

Emmanuel.o

5.0
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16
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In the ruthless underworld of 1980s New York, two men are about to break every rule. Luca Bianchi, heir to one of the city's most feared mafia families, has always known his path was laid out before him: loyalty to his family, power, and a life without the possibility of true love. But when he meets Adrian Russo-mysterious, charming, and working for a rival clan-his world is turned upside down. What starts as a dangerous flirtation spirals into an all-consuming, forbidden romance. Adrian has his own secrets. Caught in the crossfire of mafia politics, he's playing a dangerous game, navigating the delicate line between desire and betrayal. The deeper he falls for Luca, the more impossible it becomes to keep his double life hidden. One slip, and it's not just his heart on the line-it's his life. As family loyalty and passion clash, Luca and Adrian are forced to confront a choice that could destroy everything they've ever known. Their love could end the generations-old war between their families... or ignite it anew. Will they defy the rules of their world and risk everything for a chance at love? Or will their secrets tear them apart before they even get the chance to find out?

Chapter 1 1

The bass of the music pulsed through the smoky room, vibrating against the walls like the heartbeat of a living, breathing entity. New York's night had only just begun, but the dimly lit club, with its gilded chandeliers and dark velvet drapes, was already packed. The scent of expensive cologne mixed with cigarette smoke hung in the air, clinging to the leather booths where men in tailored suits conducted business under the cover of shadows.

Luca Bianchi leaned back in his seat, fingers tapping rhythmically against the rim of his crystal glass. The bourbon burned pleasantly in his throat, grounding him in the chaos around him. He glanced across the room, eyes narrowing as they landed on a figure standing near the bar. The man didn't belong here. Not in this club, not tonight.

Adrian Russo.

The name alone sent a jolt of heat through Luca's chest, quickly smothered by a wave of annoyance. The Russo family didn't usually show their faces here-not unless they wanted to start trouble. Luca's eyes trailed over the man's silhouette: tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a tailored black suit that fit him too well to be anything off the rack. Adrian's dark hair was slicked back, the low light catching the sharp angles of his face. He was laughing at something the bartender said, his smile slow and easy, like he didn't have a care in the world.

Luca felt a flicker of something he couldn't quite name-resentment, maybe, or something far more dangerous. He pushed it aside, setting his glass down with a clink. He couldn't afford distractions tonight, not with the delicate deal he was about to broker. But his gaze drifted back to Adrian, pulled by an invisible thread he was powerless to sever.

Just then, as if sensing Luca's eyes on him, Adrian turned. Their gazes locked across the crowded room, the noise fading to a dull roar in Luca's ears. For a moment, it was just the two of them, standing on opposite sides of a line they both knew they shouldn't cross. Adrian's smile faltered, then shifted into something else-something knowing.

Luca's jaw tightened. He forced himself to look away, signaling to his bodyguard, Nico, with a slight tilt of his head. Nico, ever the silent observer, raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely stepping closer as Luca pushed himself up from the booth.

"Going somewhere?" Nico's voice was low, a rumble that barely carried over the noise.

Luca glanced back at the bar. Adrian had turned away, but Luca knew he hadn't left. "I need some air," Luca muttered.

"Air, or a confrontation?" Nico asked dryly, but he moved aside, letting Luca pass.

The club's back hallway was dim and quieter, the sound of the music muffled by the thick walls. Luca slipped through the staff door, finding himself in a narrow alley that smelled of damp pavement and stale smoke. He took a deep breath, letting the cold night air fill his lungs.

He wasn't alone.

"I didn't think you'd run," a voice said, smooth as silk and far too close for comfort.

Luca turned, and there was Adrian, leaning casually against the brick wall, one foot propped up behind him. He looked like a man who had all the time in the world. Luca's pulse jumped, though he kept his expression carefully neutral.

"What the hell are you doing here, Russo?" Luca's voice was low, edged with the kind of warning that made most men back off.

Adrian's smile widened, infuriatingly relaxed. "I came for a drink. Same as you, I'd imagine."

"This isn't your territory," Luca snapped. He took a step closer, his fists clenching at his sides. "Or are you looking for trouble?"

Adrian chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down Luca's spine. "Maybe I am," he said softly, his gaze dropping briefly to Luca's mouth before flicking back up. "Or maybe I just wanted to see if you'd come after me."

The words hung between them, charged and dangerous. Luca could feel his heart pounding, faster now, the rhythm uneven. He knew he should walk away, get back inside, and leave Adrian to his games. But he didn't move. He couldn't.

"Why?" Luca demanded, his voice rougher than he intended. "Why are you here, Adrian?"

Adrian pushed off the wall, stepping into Luca's space. He was close now, too close. Luca could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, the shadow of stubble on his jaw. He could smell the faint hint of Adrian's cologne-something dark and woodsy, intoxicating.

"Maybe I wanted to remind you what you're missing," Adrian murmured. His hand came up, and before Luca could react, he felt the brush of cool fingers against his cheek. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a bolt of heat through Luca's veins.

"You're playing a dangerous game," Luca breathed, though he didn't pull away. His own hand lifted, catching Adrian's wrist, holding it there. He could feel Adrian's pulse, steady and strong, beneath his fingertips.

"I've always liked dangerous games," Adrian whispered back. His eyes softened, the teasing edge falling away. For a moment, Luca saw something raw there, something real. It was enough to make his resolve falter.

"Adrian..." Luca's voice was a plea now, a crack in the armor he'd built so carefully over the years.

Adrian's smile faded. He leaned in, just a fraction, his lips so close that Luca could feel the warmth of his breath. "Tell me to stop," he said quietly. "And I will."

Luca's grip on Adrian's wrist tightened, his breath coming faster now. He knew he should say it, push Adrian away before this went any further. But the words wouldn't come. He was tired-tired of pretending, of living a lie, of wanting something he couldn't have.

"I can't," he whispered finally.

That was all Adrian needed. He closed the distance between them, his lips finding Luca's in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. Luca's eyes fluttered shut, and he let himself fall into it, his hands tangling in Adrian's hair as he pulled him closer. The kiss tasted of bourbon and smoke and something sweeter, something Luca realized he'd been craving for far longer than he wanted to admit.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. Adrian's fingers traced the line of Luca's jaw, gentle and almost reverent.

"I've wanted this for a long time," Adrian confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"So have I," Luca admitted, the truth of it settling between them like a fragile, precious thing.

But before either of them could say anything more, the sound of footsteps echoed down the alley. They jumped apart just as the door swung open, and Nico's silhouette filled the frame.

"Luca," he called, his tone urgent. "Your father's here. He wants to see you."

Luca's stomach dropped. He glanced at Adrian, whose expression had already shifted back to that calm, unreadable mask.

"Go," Adrian said softly. "We'll talk later."

Luca nodded, swallowing hard. He turned and followed Nico back inside, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just stepped over a line he could never uncross.

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