Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles novel Chapter 149

Chapter 149

Aria’s POV

I didn’t know what to expect when Enzo whispered that they had a surprise for something fragile in his hands and I guess in a way, he was. Me.

1. me.

His voice had been soft, careful, like he was holding

They didn’t say another word as they guided me through the villa. My bare feet padded quietly against the warm wooden floors, and the only sound I could hear was the soft clink of Dante’s ring against the wine glass he was still holding and the rustle of Matteo’s shirt as he walked just a step ahead of me.

Enzo opened a door. His office.

I stepped in, confused. It smelled faintly of leather and books and something warm. Homey. Familiar.

“Sit,” Enzo said gently, guiding me into the armchair near the low table.

Matteo went straight to the desk. He bent down and pulled open a drawer no, a hidden compartment behind the drawer. My breath caught as he took something out, cradling it with both hands like it was glass.

When he turned around, my heart stopped.

A small, brown leather journál. Worn at the edges. A faded pen mark on the corner. The little red thread that used to always peek out from the middle pages.

My father’s journal.

I couldn’t move. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My chest rose and fell too fast, like my lungs didn’t know how to hold air anymore.

“I–it’s his,” I whispered.

Enzo knelt down beside me. “We found it. In one of his old safe houses. Hidden deep behind a false drawer. He meant to keep it safe.”

My hands shook as I reached for it. The moment I touched the leather cover, tears rushed into my eyes. The weight of it, the feel of it – it was like he was sitting beside me again. Like his voice could suddenly speak through the pages.

“There’s more,” Matteo said softly.

He handed me a tiny velvet pouch. Inside was a small, silver locket. I opened it with trembling fingers.

And I gasped.

–

– I couldn’t have been more than three – with my arms around my father’s neck. His smile was wide Inside, a picture. A younger version of me and real. I was giggling. The photo was old and slightly blurred, but I could still feel the warmth of it.

I broke.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, too heavy to hold back. My shoulders shook as sobs escaped me. I pressed the journal to my chest, curling around it.

“I didn’t know,” I choked out. “I didn’t know he… he kept this. That he…”

Enzo wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warmth sinking into my skin.

“He loved you more than anything,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Chapter 149

Matteo rubbed my back gently, whispering soft words in Italian I couldn’t understand but still somehow felt.

Dante sat beside me, brushing the tears from my cheek with the back of his hand. “He kept every word for you. Even when he couldn’t say it out loud.”

I didn’t know how long I cried. But they didn’t rush me. They just stayed close, holding me like I might fall apart if they let go. And maybe I would have.

Eventually, the storm in my chest began to quiet. My breathing slowed, my sobs softened into silence. I still held the journal tightly, but now my fingers rested more gently on it. Like I was protecting a part of him.

Dante leaned down and kissed the side of my head.

“Come on, angel,” he whispered. “Let’s finish dinner. You haven’t even had dessert.”

The air outside felt cooler now. The sky above was painted in twilight shades, stars beginning to peek out, twinkling like little secrets.

The table was still full of food. The candles still flickered. But the mood had changed. Softer. Sweeter.

They made me sit between them again. This time I didn’t resist. I leaned into the warmth of Enzo’s arm around my shoulders and smiled when Matteo placed a spoonful of tiramisu in front of me with a proud little smirk.

“I helped make it,” he said, puffing out his chest.

“Liar,” Enzo muttered. “You just taste–tested.”

“I have a very refined palate,” Matteo said dramatically, and I let out the tiniest laugh. It felt good — strange, but good

–

to laugh again.

We talked. Light things. Sweet things. Dante told me a story about how they once accidentally set fire to a pizza oven when they were teenagers, and Matteo claimed it was Enzo’s fault, not his.

I smiled as I watched them argue like brothers, even though they were far from it. These three dangerous, beautiful men they were just mine.

–

and yet right now,

Matteo leaned in close, brushing a smear of cream from the corner of my mouth with his thumb. His eyes darkened just a little.

“You’re already sweet,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard, my heart skipping.

Music played softly from Enzo’s phone. A romantic tune, slow and warm. He stood and held his hand out to me.

“Dance with me.”

I let him pull me to my feet. My body slid into his like we were made to move together. My head rested against his ch heartbeat slow, steady.

–

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” he said. “Just/stay with us.”

I closed my eyes. “I want to.”

And I did, More than anything.

I could hear his

Chapter 149

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way they kept looking at me like I was something to be worshiped. Maybe it was the way they had given me a piece of my father back – a piece of myself I thought I lost forever.

But something inside me changed.

I didn’t want to just be held. I wanted to hold them. I didn’t want to be protected. I wanted to show them that I was theirs, too. Not because they saved me, but because I chose them.

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