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Chapter 6 - I Like The Chains

ผู้เขียน: Sharon Madu
last update ปรับปรุงล่าสุด: 2025-01-24 17:30:09

Dante's Pov

The fire at the warehouse was like a crack in the dam. I could feel everything I’d built, everything I was, threatening to crumble. Sitting in my private library, I swirled the whiskey in my glass, staring at it as if it held the answers to all my problems. It didn’t. It never did.

I never asked for this life. At eighteen, I should’ve been worrying about college or girls, not burying my father and inheriting his bloodstained empire. My mother, though, she had always insisted I carry the torch. She called it our legacy. I called it a curse.

Then came that night. The one I see every time I close my eyes. The smoke still clings to my nightmares. My mother’s screams. My sister’s cries. I tried to save them. God knows I tried. But I failed.

They were gone in an instant. I barely escaped myself, crawling through blood and ash, barely holding on until one of my father’s men, Gabriel Rucci, saved me. I owe him my life.

But when I woke from that nightmare, something inside me snapped. I hunted down the bastards who did it, made sure their entire bloodline was wiped off the map. Revenge was supposed to fill the gaping hole they left behind. It didn’t.

Since then, killing has become second nature—too easy.. But every time I look in the mirror, I don’t see a man. I see a hollow shell wearing a mask. And the irony? I hate this life, but I can’t let it go. The power, the control, the wealth… They’ve sunk their claws into me. I tell myself I’m trapped, but the truth? I like the chains.

A knock at the door snapped me back to the present. My consigliere entered with his usual tight expression. “They’re waiting for you, Boss.”

I straightened, setting the empty glass on my desk. Time to put the mask back on.

The room felt like a circus. Cameras flashed, reporters barked questions like rabid dogs, their pens poised to carve me into whatever monster would sell the most headlines. But I was used to it. I stood in the center, calm, controlled, my hands clasped loosely in front of me. Let them dig. They wouldn’t find anything.

“Mr. Romano, what do you have to say about the warehouse fire?” one reporter called, her voice slicing through the chaos like a knife.

I met her gaze, my expression impassive. “The fire was an unfortunate incident. We’re cooperating fully with the authorities to determine the cause and ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Unfortunate?” another reporter pressed, his voice laced with accusation. “This fire has raised suspicions about the Romano family’s operations. What do you say to claims that your warehouses are being used as fronts for illegal activities?”

I let a faint smile curl on my lips, just enough to look amused but not rattled. “Claims without evidence are just rumors, and I don’t respond to rumors. The Romano family has always operated with integrity, both in business and in our contributions to the community.”

“What about Gabriel Rucci??” someone else shouted. “He’s been connected to several questionable dealings in the past. Wasn’t he overseeing the warehouse at the time of the fire?”

“Gabriel Rucci is a trusted member of our organization,” I said, my voice steady. “Any insinuation otherwise is baseless. His only involvement was ensuring the safety of our employees during the incident, and I won’t tolerate his name being dragged through the mud without proof.”

Their questions came faster now, like vultures circling a fresh kill.

“Reports suggest the fire may have been deliberate. Was it arson to cover up illegal activities?”

“Your warehouses have been flagged in the past for violations. Can you explain that?”

“Some are saying the Romano empire isn’t as clean as you claim. Care to comment?”

Every question felt like a loaded gun pulled at me, but I deflected them with practiced ease. Years in this life had taught me how to lie without flinching, how to wear a mask that no one could see through.

“The Romano family’s record speaks for itself,” I said smoothly, letting just a hint of steel creep into my tone. “We’ve been audited, investigated, and questioned more times than I can count, and yet here we are—still standing. As for the violations, they were minor and resolved immediately. Every business faces challenges, and we’ve always addressed them responsibly.”

The reporters weren’t satisfied. They were vultures, waiting for a crack. But I gave them nothing. No weaknesses. No ammunition.

“Do you really expect us to believe this fire was just a coincidence, Mr. Romano?” one reporter asked, leaning forward, clearly hoping for a slip-up.

“I expect you to believe the facts,” I replied, my voice cold now. “The facts are simple. One of my workers was careless, and the fire was an accident. Speculation helps no one. My focus is on rebuilding and ensuring the safety of our people, not indulging in baseless accusations.”

I could see their skepticism, their doubt. But I had no intention of giving them more to feed on.

“You mean Antonio Castellano?” one reporter asked, his voice laced with insinuation. “Isn’t he rumored to be… mentally unstable?”

Mentally unstable? The audacity of these vultures made my blood boil. But I didn’t let it show. They wanted a reaction, something they could twist into a headline. Not today.

Before I could say anything to save the face of the man who brought all this calamity, a voice cut through the noise.

“My father is innocent.”

I turned, my gaze sharpening as I saw her—Lucia, standing at the back of the room, her chin raised in defiance, her voice clear and unapologetic.

The room fell silent. Every head turned as she stepped forward, her words ringing out above the murmur of reporters.

“I can prove it,” she added, her eyes locked on me with unwavering intensity.

I stared at her, my amusement carefully hidden behind a mask of indifference. She didn’t know what she was walking into, didn’t understand the game she’d just interrupted. But the fire in her eyes? That, at least, was entertaining.

“Miss,” I said, my tone calm but firm, carrying just enough authority to remind her of her place. “This is a press conference. It’s not the time or place for personal grievances.”

Her eyes locked on mine, full of defiance, and for a moment, I wondered if she’d push back. But she didn’t. She shot me one last glare and walked away, her head held high.

I turned back to the reporters, schooling my expression into something neutral. “If there are no further questions, this concludes today’s briefing.”

They hesitated, their curiosity piqued by the interruption, but I didn’t give them a chance to linger. I walked out of the room, my mind already turning to the girl who had dared to challenge me.

Lucia Castellano. This was going to be interesting.

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 7 - Hell Is Wherever I Decide It To Be

    Lucia’s POVThe moment I stepped out of that conference room, I sucked in a shaky breath. But it did little to steady the pounding in my chest. The murmurs of the reporters faded, but I could still feel Dante’s sharp and cold gaze on me.I had made a terrible mistake challenging him in front of his people, and in front of the media. I knew the rules. Knew what it meant to speak out of turn, to embarrass a man like him. Yet, I had done it anyway, unable to hold my tongue when they dragged my father’s name through the mud.“My father is innocent.” I could still hear my own voice echoing in my head.Foolish.I had barely made it down the hall when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. My breath caught as a firm grip closed around my wrist, yanking me into an empty room before I could react.Dante.The door banged shut behind us, cutting off the noise from the hallway. The air between us felt charged, as his fingers remained wrapped around my wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 8 - A Feast Before The Storm

    Lucia’s POVThe sharp voice of the news anchor startled me awake, pulling me out of my restless sleep. I must have dozed off watching the news, but as my eyes opened, the screen was still filled with the same harsh accusation.My hands clenched into fists as rage filled my chest.“This is how they do it,” i muttered under her breath. “They don’t need facts. They just twist words until people believe the worst.”I suddenly felt sick. The media didn’t know my father, they didn’t know the man who had worked tirelessly to provide for his family, who had built his reputation through sweat and sacrifice. He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t reckless.. at least, not intentionally.I grabbed the remote and shut off the TV, breathing heavily. The more they dragged my father’s name through the mud, the more certain i became that this wasn’t just about the fire. Someone wanted him ruined to cover up their tracks. And I had a pretty good idea who.No.I wouldn’t let them do this.Throwing off the bla

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 9 - A Reason To Stay

    Dante’s POV“The Romano warehouse fire continues to make headlines, drawing comparisons to the tragic Romano estate fire years ago. In both cases, lives were lost, and in both cases, questions remain unanswered...”My jaw clenched.The media loved to stir up ghosts that should have stayed buried. They didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. The fire that took my family hadn’t been an accident or some careless mistake. It had been a goddamn execution, a message from men who thought they could erase the Romano name from history.They had failed.I drained my whiskey in one swallow, the burn doing nothing to calm the fire raging inside me. I poured another, barely paying attention to the news playing in the background. The comparisons to my past were nothing more than fuel to the fire… a reminder that some wounds never fucking heal.I had intended to see Lucia, maybe even explain why I had missed the date I planned.What was I even thinking? I brought her here to suffer for wh

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 10 - More Than You Can Imagine

    Lucia’s POVMy breath stilled as the detective’s gaze settled on me. His presence alone made the air feel heavier. I hadn’t expected to walk into this—to see him standing there, looking at me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.The worst part? He was close. Too close.I forced myself to relax, to smooth out my expression, but it was too late. He had seen my hesitation, and now he was interested.He smiled. “And who might you be?”Dante didn’t move, but I felt his presence shift like a predator sensing an approaching threat. His body was a barrier between me and the detective, but it wasn’t enough to stop the weight of the man’s scrutiny.I swallowed. “Lucia,” I said evenly.The detective’s eyes flickered, something unreadable flashing across his face before he nodded. “Lucia… You match a description I was given.”Dante’s posture stiffened. “That so?” His voice was smooth, but I could hear the lethal edge beneath it.The detective ignored him, keeping his focus on me. “I receiv

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 11 - If I Wanted You Dead

    Dante’s POVThe cemetery was quiet.I never stayed long when I visited. Not because I didn’t want to—I just never knew what to say. What could I say? Apologies meant nothing to the dead.I crouched beside the headstone, my fingers brushing against the engraved marble. My father’s name stood out in bold lettering. Leandro Romano. It had been sixteen years since he was gunned down in the streets, sixteen years since I’d taken over.But the guilt that settled in my chest didn’t belong to him.It belonged to them.I stood, shifting my gaze to the graves beside his. Elena Romano. Sofia Romano. Two names carved into stone, both stolen from me in the fire that burned our home to the ground. Ten years had passed, yet the flames still danced in my nightmares, licking at my skin, and filling my lungs with smoke.I could still hear Sofia screaming for me, her hands gripping at the locked door. I could still see my mother’s terrified eyes, the moment she realized I wouldn’t reach them in time.I

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 12 - They Don’t Come Back From That Ball

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  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 13 - The Ball

    Dante’s POV Lucia stood in the center of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest, fire burning in her eyes. I had expected resistance, but she was far more stubborn than I had anticipated. “Where are we going?” she demanded, her voice sharp with anger. I adjusted the cuffs of my suit, not bothering to look at her. “No questions.” “No questions? After what I’ve heard about the so-called Ball? I’m not going anywhere.” A sigh left my lips as I pinched the bridge of my nose. This woman. She had a way of testing my patience like no other. I had taken many women to this event before—some trembling with fear, others eager to be paraded like trophies—but never had one refused. Never had one looked me in the eyes like they had a choice. “Lucia,” I said, stepping toward her, my voice calm. “You still don’t understand that I own you. Your body, your choices—” “You don’t own me,” she snapped, stepping closer, her chin lifted in defiance. “I’m not some object you can parade a

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    Dante’s POVShe wasn’t supposed to see that. Not again.The gunshot still echoed in my mind—not because I regretted pulling the trigger, but because of who had been watching.Her gasp. Her eyes. The way she ran from me like I was the devil himself.I’ve heard that sound before—bones snapping, air leaving lungs, the final sputter before silence—but none of it ever made me flinch. Not until I saw her standing there.Now? Now I can’t get the image out of my head: her wide eyes, pale face, hand clutched over her mouth like she might vomit. She looked at me like I was unrecognizable.I knocked on her door three times. Nothing. I knocked again. Still nothing.Behind me, one of the guards shifted. “Boss,” he said lowly. “Do you want us to break it down?”The suggestion should’ve rolled right off my back. But it didn’t.I stared at the door handle. My hand itched to grip it, twist it, and walk in like it was still my home—like she was still mine to command.But that wasn’t how this worked. No

  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 54 – Love?

    Lucia’s POVI ran out of the room and down the hallway, ignoring the nurse calling after me. My flat shoes slapped against the floor as I pushed through the care home’s front doors into the cool afternoon air. My heart was racing as I looked around the sidewalk, the curb, and the street.Nothing.The man had vanished.I turned in a full circle, biting my lip. Had I imagined him? Was I just being paranoid? After everything that had happened—the fire, the article, the accusations—it wouldn’t be a stretch.But no… I saw him. And I knew that face.I needed answers.Back inside, I approached the front desk where a nurse sat typing. She looked up with polite curiosity.“Hi,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to see today’s visitor log.”She blinked, unsure. “Is there a problem?”“No. I just… I think someone came to see my father without permission. I need to check.”Her brows furrowed, but after a moment, she turned the screen. “It’s mostly regulars. Here.”My eyes scanned the

  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 53 – Secrets

    Lucia’s POVThe soft murmur of the television stirred me awake before the sunlight did. My eyes were still heavy with sleep, but the voice coming from the screen made my stomach twist before I even understood the words.“…a once-promising businessman turned thief, Antonio Castellano’s fall from grace is not only a personal tragedy but a reflection of deeper corruption in Chicago…”I shot up in bed, every trace of sleep gone. My father’s name blared from the television like an alarm bell.“…rumored ties to Romano Enterprises raise eyebrows, especially in light of the fire that claimed the lives of Dante Romano’s family. Some sources suggest the fire wasn’t accidental…”What?I blinked at the screen, stunned as the report claimed my father might’ve been involved in both fires—the one that destroyed Dante’s family home, and the recent warehouse blaze.My heart hammered against my ribs. My hands trembled as I grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.“…anonymous sources believe the bla

  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 52 - Unraveling

    Dante’s POV“Just stay put, Lucia,” I snapped, cutting her off. My voice softened slightly, but there was no mistaking the edge of command. “Please. For now, stay in here.”Her gaze flickered between me and the door, the tension between us thickening as I hit the call button.I waited, the seconds feeling like hours, until Lucas answered on the third ring. “Boss?”“Get to the beach house. Now,” I barked. “Pick up Lucia and take her home. Don’t let her out of your sight. Got it?”There was a pause on the other end. “Understood. We’ll be there in ten.”I hung up without another word. Turning back to Lucia, I made sure she saw the seriousness in my eyes. “I’m leaving someone here to watch you,” I added, grabbing my coat off the chair. “Just stay in the room. Don’t open the door for anyone except Lucas or me.”She took a step back, still processing. “You’re not telling me what’s going on,” she said, a trace of frustration creeping into her voice.“I can’t explain right now,” I said, not a

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    Dante’s POVShe pushed me away again.I should’ve been used to it by now. But every time she flinched from my touch or caught my wrist with those trembling fingers, it hit harder than I ever let on.I could’ve taken her that night. She was right there. Breathing heavy under my mouth, hands trembling like she didn’t know what she wanted. The way she closed her eyes when I kissed her… it wasn’t fear of me. It was fear of herself.And ever since I found out she was a virgin, everything shifted. It wasn’t just about claiming her anymore. It was about doing it right. I’d never waited on a woman before—not for anything—but with Lucia every instinct told me not to rush, that she wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t truly mine yet. But she would be.I had to show her the side of me no one else had seen—the part of me that wasn’t all rage and control. She had to feel it, even if she didn’t know it yet.Starting with her birthday.She never mentioned it, but I’m not stupid. A date like that does

  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 50 – A Target On Your Back

    Lucia’s POVHospitals always smelled the same: bleach, sadness, and something too clean to feel normal. I hated it.The white walls felt like they were closing in as I rushed past the nurses’ station, Rico just a few steps behind me.A nurse with tired eyes stopped me at the door to my father’s room. “You’re his daughter?”I nodded quickly, my heart stuck somewhere between my throat and stomach.“He was found unconscious on his porch,” she said. “We believe he fell down a short flight of stairs. The damage is minor—bruised ribs, slight concussion. He’s lucky. A little more force and—” she stopped herself. “He’s awake now. Confused, but awake.”My fingers tightened around the edge of my coat. “Thank you.”She smiled and stepped aside.I walked into the room.My father looked smaller. Thinner. His bones pressed against the sheets, and his face looked pale under the harsh lights. Tubes ran from his arms, and a dark bruise covered his temple like a shadow.“Dad,” I breathed.He stirred, e

  • Claimed By The Mafia Don   Chapter 49 – Only Blood

    Dante’s POVTrust was a currency more dangerous than blood in this business. And right now, I was running short on both.I stared at the burner phone in my hand, the screen still lit from the last call. The guy on the other end had sounded too sure of himself. He promised the new route was safe, hidden behind fake businesses and paid-off border guards.“Nothing will go wrong this time, Signor Romano,” he’d said.I believed him.But I wasn’t fucking stupid.Last time, I trusted the wrong man and lost an entire shipment. That cost me more than money. It cost me power. It made me look weak. I wouldn’t survive another mistake like that.So I set up a test run. An empty truck. An unmarked driver. I kept everything secret, no records, no paperwork.Three hours later, I got a call that the cops had intercepted it.They didn’t find anything, but that didn’t matter. They were waiting for me. Again. And it wasn’t Lucia, obviously.I slammed the glass in my hand onto the desk, sending shards eve

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