Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband by Paga Slayer

Chapter 68 I Am Not Impressed, Mr Valentino

A tourd here being the war on over her hon her mind refused let go of the images. Airearen har sy by hot big on her skin, the way he whispered her name with such intensity when the mom

kde ber, nching her painfully and never stopping pumping righ at hey click art har beter by mopping a moan that was about to let out loudly, extremely terry tween frustrations and desire. The water might not have cooled her down, but it did give her a moment to: Thirsk Bad, bad, Italian do! She grunted in her mind.

Despite the irritation, she fought the urge to give in and beg him to fuck her in the shower. Here her trends and colleagues thought she was a nun, not able to reacto any man. But the truth was her body only responded to only one man who was the devil himself froin whom Mia wanted nothing to do with anything

Mia managed to finish cleaning herself, but the burning sensation in her core didn't subside. She wasn't sure whether she should face her devilishly charming mafia husband or not. Against her better judgment, she decided to carry on pretending to be indifferent to his allure, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her.

She put on her formal clothes for the day and checked her schedule while drying her hair. Making & mental note of the day's plans, she applied light makeup and slipped into her black pumps. Grabbing her sling purse and work briefcase, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the day ahead.

With a mix of nervousness and anticipation, Mia stepped out of the room, her traitorous body still craving her husband's touch. She was met with the sight of Alessandro hovering over the stove, cooking eggs and bacon with effortless perfection. The chef, servants, and Emily stood silently in a corner, watching him. The scene was almost surreal, and Mia wondered if she was hallucinating.

Alessandro, in his tailored suit, moved with grace and confidence, looking even sexier. The aroma of the cooking food filled the air, but all Mia could focus on was the way he looked, so composed and in control. So dominating and intimidating, yet so deliciously gorgeous. Her heart skipped a beat, and she found herself struggling to catch her breath.

"Good morning again, amore," Alessandro whispered huskily, sensing Mia's desirous gaze on him. He turned to her with his sensual smile that made her knees weak.

"What." she cleared her throat to find her composed voice. "What are you doing?"

he

she headed to place her work briefcase and sling bag on the breakfast counter before she marched into the kitchen She crossed her arms

chuckled, seemingly unbothered by her mockery and enjoying Mia's ranting. "I thought you would appreciate my efforts,

her eyes. "I am not impressed, Mr.

have to remind you, vita mia?" he repeated, his possessive

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Not Impressed, Mr

Finished

seen ed him

"vita mia" in front of her household staff. The servants and Emily were equally stunned by the man's anyone talk to her

Alessandro narrow his eyes at

at the beginning of making breakfast, preparing two cups while plating the bacon and eggs. Mia was intentionally calling him Mr. Valentino, as using his first name felt too intimate, too close for the emotional boundaries she desperately wanted to maintain. She needed to keep her distance-for her own

which longed for this cruel man despite knowing he was incapable of loving anyone but himself. Alessandro Valentino was a narcissist, a man whose world revolved solely around his own desires and needs. As the aroma of freshly

you up for lunch. I've booked a table for us at your

his daily routine as if it were all so natural for him. But it wasn't. They didn't

doing this?" Mia breathed