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Chapter 108: When Kings Fall for a Pawn.
Last Updated:
2025-03-06 20:40:49
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 109: The positions he’d ruin me in.
The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped out into the hallway, moving past the closed doors until I reached the one I was looking for—the kitchen. I wasn’t heading outside—to the foyer or the compound like Dontrell would have loved. I just needed a cup of lemongrass tea and preferred to make it myself.The hallway was eerily silent. The kind that slithered under the skin like an unseen threat, but the moment I entered into the kitchen, its opulence greeted me. The massive white and beige space, with its sleek marble counters, mirrored cabinets, and a long glass kitchen island stretching across the centre, gleamed under the pendant lights. I walked toward the cupboard, reaching for the kettle on the highest shelf. Too high. With a quiet sigh, I climbed onto the counter, stretching on my toes until my fingers wrapped around the handle. As soon as I had it, I hopped down, setting it on the counter with a soft clink.I slid my headphones over my ears and walked to the island table in
Last Updated : 2025-03-07The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 110: Between Death and Him.
Clayton’s grip on my throat was steel—unyielding, merciless. His fingers dug into my skin—pricking me and cutting off air. His other hand pressed against my back, holding and trapping me in his grasp. I gasped, my fingers clawing at his wrist. “Please…let go,” I begged, but he didn’t relent."Tell me, Princess," he grunted, his voice lethal. "How long have you been spreading your legs for Andrew?" A strangled cough escaped me. My throat burnt under his wicked squeeze, my vision darkening at the edges, blood pumping into my head. If he didn’t let go soon—if his grip tightened even a fraction more—he would crush the breath from my body.And then, with one brutal push, he released my neck.I staggered back, my legs trembling; I nearly collapsed onto the floor, but my hands shot out, grasping blindly—fingertips brushing the cold, smooth kitchen counter. I clung to it, steadying myself. My body convulsed as I stood and then bent forward, holding my chest, coughing and gulping air like I ha
Last Updated : 2025-03-07The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 111: The Hunter Becomes the Hunted.
A shudder ripped through me. My fingers twitched around the hilt of the knife. My eyes widened, my heart hammering against my ribs.And Clayton saw it. A slow, cruel smirk tugged at his lips.“Oh, you’re surprised?" His voice turned mocking. "Well, you shouldn’t be. By now, you should know I don’t give a damn whether you live or die. You mean nothing to me."His voice was void of emotion. "So if you want to kill yourself, do it. I just need your confession first." Something inside me cracked.Not because I was holding a knife to my chest. Not because he’d figured out my secret. It wasn’t his ruthlessness that broke me.It was the realisation that he truly meant it and my death meant nothing to him."You have no proof of anything," I blurted out."I don’t—not yet," he admitted. "But when I set my mind on something.” He paused, taking in my reaction. “I make sure I get what I want. And I don’t care how long it takes—I’ll prove you’re cheating." "Why?" My voice rose with frustration. "W
Last Updated : 2025-03-08The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Ch 112: Clayton’s POV: In my mind, demons whisper.
My head’s a dark alley, and the whispers never stop. Inside my skull, demons don’t just whisper—they give orders. Their voices, always winning—never quiet. My mind and heart were locked in a battlefield, warring over my true motive for questioning her. Was I really doing this to have her? The demons inside me hissed the answer, but I crushed their whispers.No. That was impossible.I stormed out of the kitchen, leaving her behind. My pulse pounded in my ears, my jaw locked so tight it could crack a molar. This feeling—I hadn’t felt it in years. Not since Russia. Twenty years ago, when I was still a boy among men in that brutal training camp, I had been untouchable with a gun—I could take out a moving target the size of a pin from a thousand yards away. But fists? That was where I lacked. Hand-to-hand combat was my weakness. I was the youngest in the program but had already climbed to Level 10 because of my skill with a gun. That was why they came for me in the woods that day. A pack
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Andrew stood at the very edge of the rooftop, right before the glass and iron railing. His head was bent, eyes locked onto his phone screen; even with the rooftop's bright light, the glow of his screen cast sharp shadows across his face. He was so still, so engrossed, that for a moment, he looked like he’d been frozen in time.But the moment I stepped forward, his shoulders stiffened."Brother," I greeted, my voice smooth but edged like a blade unsheathed. "Clayton," he returned, turning to face me. His expression was composed, unreadable, but his eyes—something was lurking beneath them. A flicker of caution. As if he already knew something I didn’t.I advanced slowly. My footsteps measured, my presence intentional. "You didn’t even notice I was up here yet. What if I were an assassin trying to sneak up on you?"Andrew chuckled, tucking his phone into his trouser pocket. “An assassin?” He scoffed. "Clay, if someone ever made it past the fifth floor of this building, they’d have to be
Last Updated : 2025-03-09The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 114: Allison’s POV—Kissed into Submission.
The silence of my deep slumber was bliss—until the sound of someone shattered it.I stirred, shifting against the soft sheets, my body still warm from the cocoon of sleep. I had waited. Waited like a fool, curled up on the bed, staring at the clock as midnight approached. Envisioning us together, whispering “Happy New Year” in the dim glow of our room, my lips tasting the brandy on his breath. But he never came.Pissed, I had thrown off my dress, slipped into short silk pyjamas, and gone to sleep, determined to let my attitude speak when he finally returned. If he wanted to ignore me, fine. Then—a footstep came.Heavy. Slow. Pacing the room.I was still half-asleep, but I knew it had to be him. Good. Let him see me in bed, not even bothering to acknowledge his presence. Let him grovel. He had to know I was angry. Maybe he had brought himself in quietly, hoping I wouldn’t lash out. Let him stew in my silence. But then I heard more. Two. Three. Four—too many for just Dontrell. My eyes
Last Updated : 2025-03-10The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 115: Wicked Hearts.
I stood in front of the tub, expecting a response. But I got nothing. They just stared at me like fools.I tried to be polite, but my anger was simmering. As an only child, sharing my space—especially my bathroom—was unthinkable. Letting strangers see my body? A definite no. I knew respect was for everyone, regardless of status, but irritation won. Being naked in front of them was too much."Cat got your tongue? Speak!" I snapped, rolling my eyes.One of them, a petite brunette, stepped forward, bowing her head. “Master Dontrell ordered us to take care of everything for you today—including your bath.”I exhaled sharply. “No.” My voice was firm. “I can bathe myself. Wait outside.”The second woman hesitated. “But Ma—”“I said NO.” My tone snapped like a whip, eyes flashing. “If I wanted company in the tub, I’d have invited him in. Stay out here and don’t move unless I tell you to.” My gaze flickered between them. “Is that clear?” Both women stiffened before bowing their heads. “Yes, Ma
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The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock and the slow, uneven breaths Dontrell tried to control. But I wasn’t going to let him. A low, erratic moan slipped from his lips as my heel pressed firmer against his arousal, the sharp point dragging along the outline of his hardened length making his body jerk. "Kitten, enough." His voice was rough, thick with need, edged with command. "I won’t repeat myself." A slow, wicked yet knowing smile curled my lips. "Why? You don’t like it?" My left hand remained on his collar, while my right moved deliberately down his torso, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. When the last button fell open, I splayed my palm across his bare chest, tracing the inked letters of my name just above his heart. My hand brushed over the tattoo, tracing my claim against his skin. His muscles tensed beneath my touch. "You're playing with fire." I dragged my nails to his navel. "Then burn for me, Dontrell." In a blink of an eye, he grabbed my wrist and
Last Updated : 2025-03-11
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The car stopped, cameras flashing from all angles, their lenses like hungry eyes trying to pierce the tinted glass.I adjusted the slit of my dress, trembling more from rage than from concern for my appearance. My jaw tightened, teeth gritted. I hadn’t forgiven him. Not even close.Back in the penthouse, I had nearly ripped that burgundy suit off his body and set it on fire. But Dontrell didn’t flinch, didn’t even raise his voice as my fury crashed over him. He stood like a goddamn wall of storms and blood, letting me throw my tantrum.“You done?” he asked, his voice as cool as ice on fire.I blinked, stunned by his nonchalance. “Excuse me?”“You want to kill someone tonight?” he asked, calm as ever, when I threatened to end Celine. “Fine. Let me hand you the match, but why kill only her when you could burn them all out there?”I cursed, flung my purse at him, and told him I wasn’t a pawn to parade. He didn’t argue. He stepped closer, his breath fire on my skin, voice low.“I’m not
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I opened the door and stepped into the room, every nerve in my body fried. I kicked off my heels and dropped my bag. Their thud against the marble barely registered. My chest tightened, my skin prickling. Shame coiled around me, dragging the weight of my guilt.‘What have I done?’I’d let that bastard touch me.My stomach twisted as I crashed onto the bed, face up, trying to process how I went from hating him to begging him to ruin me. I used to hate everything he stood for. He was filth, a reminder of every bad decision I vowed never to repeat. And still… I spread myself on that table for him. I let him into my body like he hadn’t violated my soul.I rubbed my arms like I could erase the feel of him. The way I let it happen.I groaned, disgusted with myself, but my body didn’t care—the heat still burnt between my thighs. I tossed on the bed, arm over my eyes, trying to drown the memory.CLICK. A door creaked open, snapping me back.My heart slammed as I sprang up, adrenaline slicing
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 164 – Say it with Your Cock — All the Way In.
I was pinned. His cock was inside me. Deep. Stretching. Filling. “Fuck,” I gasped, nails scraping the wall.Clayton’s hands gripped my thighs like he owned them, spreading me wider, fucking me harder. His cock slammed into me, brutal and thick, every thrust shaking my bones.“Don’t look at me like that. You know you don’t matter to me.” He growled into my ear, voice jagged with heat. “The moment I cum, I'll forget this ever happened. I’m not the type of man who stays around for aftercare sex. So don’t wait for one either.” He thrust again.I choked on a moan. “Fuck you.” He laughed.His mouth latched onto my neck, sucking hard as he drove deeper, faster. His body was fire against mine, sweat-slick between us, his abs tightening with every thrust.I was already trembling. He hadn’t even slowed.He reached down, grabbed my ass with one hand, and used it to bounce me harder onto him. My legs dangled. I couldn’t speak—only moan.“Clayton—fuck, keep going—”He heard.He shoved deeper. Th
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 163 – I still hate him.
The room was cold—or maybe it was just him. Arms folded, gaze sharp like a blade.My heart hammered, but I refused to back down.“How are you this calm? Someone just died.” His eyes locked on mine. Cold. Because he already knew.Of course, he did. Clayton didn’t just play the game—he built it, set the rules, and broke them when it suited him.I stared at him. He didn’t deny it, just watched me. But his silence said everything.“My contact told me a few hours ago. The official report says he touched a naked wire. But that’s not what happened. And we both know better. It was a hit. A clean one.”He went on, calm like he was reading a weather report.“Dontrell did it. He didn’t like that I left that cell untouched. And he’s trying to be extra careful since I’m out now. So, he tied the loose end.”My mouth went dry. “He had him killed?”Clayton nodded once. “Suffocated. With a pillow laced with carfentanil—the kind that stops your heart before you scream. Then they finished him with a w
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 162: In the Dark.
“I didn’t do it to betray you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.Clayton didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, cold and still, like my words were just noise blowing through a storm he had already survived.“Then why, Allison?” Clayton snapped. “Why pay some street rat to tail me, digging through my business like I’m just some suspect on a list?”My stomach twisted into a hard knot. “You weren’t giving me the truth. I needed answers.”He sighed and sat on the edge of the desk, his body so close to me. “So instead of asking me, you go behind my back like a coward?”I exhaled.“No,” he laughed bitterly. “Not a coward. A traitor.”“Don’t call me that,” I said quickly, but my voice broke.He tilted his head, his eyes burning into me. “Why shouldn't I? You went snooping where you had no business. You treated me like the enemy. Like I haven’t bled for you these past few days.”“I needed to protect myself,” I said, voice shaking. “You kept me in the dark.”“I told
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 161: To Destroy or Forgive.
I turned off the main road long before anyone could see me, slipping through the narrow, unmarked path that wound between tall hedges and rustling trees. The evening light cast everything in gold and shadow—perfect for disappearing.The compound was quiet. No guards in sight. No movement. Just high walls, iron gates, and a silence that buzzed like static in my ears.I killed the humming engine and parked in the corner where the cameras wouldn’t catch me—if there were even cameras at all. My heart thudded once, hard, as I stepped out, leaving the car behind. An unsettling calm that felt anything but safe came upon me.My heels crunched against the gravel, every step echoing louder than it should’ve.The house loomed ahead. I walked fast but careful, every footstep a risk. No one must know I was here.Before I could even lift a hand to knock, the door clicked open.He’d been watching.I stepped inside without hesitation. As soon as my heel touched the marble floor, the door clicked shut
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 160: Step One: Deceive; wife or weapon?
“How could you even think that?” I whisper, my voice shaking. “After everything we’ve been through?” My back rested against the bedroom wall. Dontrell stood before me, chest heaving like a brewing storm, jaw ticking with fury.”“You think I’d trade your love for his lies? After all we'd survived?”He stepped closer. My breath hitched, but I didn’t flinch.”“Clayton’s a distraction. Don’t give him the relevance he craves —don’t let him win.” I touched his chest, letting the silence carry my words. “If you have to ask me that… then maybe he’s already won.”He still looked unconvinced.“You’re the only man I’ve ever needed,” I whispered, looking away, hurt. “If you don’t know that by now… Maybe you never really knew me.”He stood still, but I could see the tension start to fade from his shoulders. My tears spilt freely, on purpose.“I didn’t want the world to think I came between you two,” I whispered, trembling. “I didn’t want to be the reason the Blade bloodline went to war.”I reached
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 159: Revenge Starts Here.
My mouth tasted like blood, though I hadn’t bitten my tongue. I just sat there, knees together, fists clenched in my lap like a child awaiting punishment. The silence was louder than Clayton’s voice. The silence was louder than Clayton’s voice. He’d said it—Dontrell killed Andrew. Breathing suddenly felt like a betrayal. My body trembled, but my mind screamed one question—how long had he been watching us?I shook my head violently. “No, no, Dontrell wouldn’t—he cried when Andrew died!”“As he would have cried too if Hollis had succeeded in killing me. The same hitman he used to eliminate Andrew was the one he sent to inject me too here a few days ago.” Clayton spoke unfiltered, abruptly.I got up from my seat; my knees buckled, but I caught myself on the wall. “ I didn’t pull the trigger”, I whispered, “but I killed Andrew… with my actions.”I sank back into the chair, tears slipping down my cheeks.Clayton didn’t soften. “He used your love for Andrew, your grief, your loyalty. Dontre
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 158 – I killed him.
I couldn’t feel my hands or face—just static, white noise in my head as the world went mute. I sat frozen, eyes wide, heart pounding, but everything felt distant, like I was watching my life collapse through a glass. Andrew was gone. I accepted that, but Dontrell being the cause shattered me.A man he trusted and believed in—being the cause of his death—shook me to my bones.The betrayal burnt like acid. I wanted to scream, but no sound came. My chest heaved, a sob rising.I bit back a sob, my chest rising and falling with violent gasps. Clayton couldn't know. He couldn’t find out that I used to sleep with Andrew. That I’d loved him. That there were nights I chose Andrew’s bed over Dontrell’s.If he knew, it would confirm the suspicions he’d had all along. I clenched my fists tight, holding in the scream building in my throat.“Wait... what did you say?” My voice trembled, barely a whisper.Clayton leaned back in his chair, a half-laugh slipping from his lips. It was dark. Bitter. Alm
