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Chapter 115: Wicked Hearts.
Last Updated:
2025-03-11 19:07:45
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 116: A New Year’s Seduction; Bent and Begging.
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
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The breakfast was forgotten—untouched plates, burnt-out candles, and only him in my mind—his masculine, naked body, the way he had just ruined me. And yet, he wasn’t done.Dontrell didn’t waste time. One moment, his lips crashed into mine; the next, I was on the kitchen counter, legs spread as he stepped between them."You’re shaking," he smirked, fingers tightening on my waist. "Scared?"He didn’t move slowly. He grabbed my thighs, dragged me to the counter’s edge, and spread me wide, the back of my legs touching the counter’s tiles. My body ached from it, but the heat pooling in my belly made me forget.My hands gripped the edge of the counter, nails digging in as he pressed against me. He brushed his lips over my ear, his breath warm, teasing."I want to kill your dad for what he did to you… but I also want to thank him. If he hadn’t sold you out, I wouldn’t have met you." His husky whisper was unexpected but genuine.My lips parted. “Thank—”A deep, punishing thrust stole my breat
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Dontrell’s body tensed, his senses on high alert, but his smirk didn’t falter. His dark eyes flickered with amusement, but there was a sharp and daring air about the way he stood unfazed."Dove," he drawled, tilting his head. "Are you holding me hostage?"I didn’t let go. My thighs still trembled from his ruthless claim. My palm became hot; my hand was too fragile for the way I forced it to harden against him. Yet—something inside me wouldn’t let him leave. Not yet.He grunted, but he didn’t pull his hands away from mine. "You’re acting like something bad is about to happen." I swallowed. A strange feeling crawled under my skin. It wasn’t paranoia; it was exhaustion—this beast of a man always fucked me like he wouldn’t fuck again in years; his experience in the field was top-notch. A slow, creeping sense of embarrassment slithered through me, but I spoke out anyway.“If you come back with that water, and I drink, eat, and recover, you’ll fuck me again, straight to the hospital."He l
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My breath hitched as I met Clayton Blade’s eyes. The rest of the world faded. The distant hum of the television turned into white noise. It was just me and him, a moment I never wanted.Panic jolted through me, but I shoved it down. I was weak, but I wouldn't let him see it. Not now. Not ever.“Put me down,” I gritted, ignoring my exhaustion.Clayton smirked, his grip firm, amused—like a predator toying with prey."Now, now, Angel," he drawled. "Is that how you greet family? Or the man who saved your skull?"I stiffened, hatred bubbling under my skin. “If I could turn back time, I'd sooner let this fall end me than be caught by you."His smirk deepened, smug—like he knew something I didn’t. And it infuriated me."Then why are you still lying in my hands?" His voice mocked, his knowing eyes burning into mine.Fury ignited. I shoved against his chest, ignoring the pain as I forced myself up despite the searing pain that shot through my limbs. He moved to help me again, but I slapped his
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The stench of death wasn’t here, but I swore I could smell it. With the way it glistened on the broadcast, tracing jagged patterns across the floor, seeping into cracks. The camera zoomed in—the crimson name glared back at me. My pulse pounded, a deafening roar against the eerie silence.Clayton stopped mid-step. The sound of the television seized him in place; his hand hovered on his cufflinks. The news anchor’s voice was clinical and detached as he continued his report—~“Authorities report that the victim was found bound to a chair with a knife plunged through her abdomen, impaling her straight through to the back of the chair. Pinning her to the seat.”~I exhaled sharply, my stomach knotting. My gaze locked onto the screen. The image of the lifeless girl, her delicate features frozen in a haunting stillness.“God.” I rasped, and my hand shot up, covering my mouth as bile rose in my throat. The reporter continued, her voice cold as she described the gruesome scene. The victim’s in
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The door slammed into the wall with a resounding thud.Clayton and I didn’t flinch. We knew who it was. But the look on Dontrell’s face twisted my stomach—I’d never seen him like this. His fury was untamed. Deadly. My relief at seeing him lasted only a second before fear clawed its way back.His heavy footsteps pounded like the warning drum of a storm about to break. Dontrell loomed into the room. His chest heaved, knuckles bone white with rage.His gaze fell on me, and then it went back to Clayton."You have three seconds to explain." He growled, like a lion ready to tear down everything in his path.I didn’t understand. What was he saying?Clayton didn’t lower the pocket knife in his grip. He held it steady like a predator, waiting.“Clayton—" My voice shook. "What did you do?"His cold eyes cut to me. "None of your business, bitch."Dontrell moved.It was like a lightning strike. One second he was in front of me—the next, he lunged. His fist slammed into Clayton’s jaw, knocking him
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“You piece of shit!” Dontrell’s voice was raw and deadly.A roar ripped from him as he launched a blow, then another, his fists colliding with Clayton’s face. Blood smeared his knuckles, but Clayton didn’t fight back. He just laughed maniacally, even as blood dripped from his mouth.Dontrell’s final punch cracked against Clayton’s jaw, snapping his head sideways. Still, he laughed—a madman revelling in chaos.When Dontrell finally stopped, panting, Clayton wiped his lip.“She was weak,” he said simply. “And weakness gets eliminated.”“You scoundrel,” I spat, shaking in my seat. “She was your sister.”Clayton only blinked. “So?”My world shattered.I could barely breathe. I had seen cruelty before, but nothing matched the cold, calculated violence in Clayton’s eyes. He followed orders without hesitation—terrifyingly efficient. My chest tightened at the thought: if fate had led me to him instead of Dontrell, I’d have been destroyed. Marrying Dontrell hadn’t just saved me—it had spared m
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"I could take my time, fuck you slow and sweet," I rasped, thrusting deep into her from behind. "But we both know you don’t want that."Her curves, the way she arched—spine taut like a drawn bow—made for this.I held her still, stretching her to take every inch as I drove in harder. My fingers dug into soft flesh, forcing her to stay still as I drove in again, harder this time, stretching her to fit every inch of me. The sharp slap of skin slapped against the skin, mingling with the waves crashing below the building."You love being used like this, don’t you?" My voice was guttural and filled with hunger. "Bent over, helpless, taking everything I give you.”Allison moaned, bracing against the white couch as her back arched. The golden hour light spilling through the glass doors kissed her sweat-slicked skin, highlighting every trembling inch of her. I couldn’t stop staring.I trailed a hand down her spine, pressing between her shoulders until she bent, her ass curving into a perfect h
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
