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Chapter 16: In the Name of Love (Dontrell's POV).
Last Updated:
2025-01-02 21:45:43
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I kept the gun steady, pressing it against Simeon. His desperation was palpable, but I couldn’t let him wiggle his way out of this. His words were like a drop of water in the face of a storm, but the truth was what I needed. He gasped, still clutching his broken arm. "I—I swear, I don’t know all the details," he stuttered, his voice laced with fear. "But Ragent... he was working with someone higher up. Someone willing to pay millions.”“I don’t know their names!" Simeon’s voice cracked with panic. "But it’s serious—dangerous. Ragent said they’re connected to something called ‘11-11.’ I have no idea what it means, I swear! He didn’t tell me everything!"I leaned in, eyes narrowing, my grip on the gun, my boot twisting on his chest, digging deeper. "Who the hell is '11-11'?" I demanded, my voice low and dangerous.Simeon swallowed hard, his face pale. "I... I don’t know! But Ragent said it was bigger than anything we could imagine. He told me that whoever was behind it... had plans for
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The garden stretched far from the mansion, shielded by tall hedges and glowing lanterns; it was late. I moved quietly, avoiding the Blade guards. My heart raced—each step a risk—but I had to see Andrew. The pathway led to a small cottage shed at its farthest corner. Polished and elegant, with white walls and a barn door. I quickened my pace, breath coming in soft gasps as I approached the building.“Andrew?” I called softly, peering around the shed. My voice barely rose above the evening breeze, but there was no reply. My hands brushed the shed’s cool door handle. Then, out of nowhere, a hand shot out from behind the door and yanked me inside.I barely had time to react as Andrew slammed the door shut with a soft click.Inside, the shed was more spacious than it seemed from outside. The polished wooden floor carried a faint scent of cedar. A leather armchair sat in the corner, and a lantern on the center table cast a warm glow. But none of that mattered. My focus was solely on Andrew
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The words froze in the air. I watched her, waiting for a reaction, but she only stared at the floor, stunned. She hadn’t expected it—neither had I. My confession hit like a punch, and I couldn’t take it back. Every part of me screamed for her, but I’d crossed a line.She looked up, her hurt slicing through me. “You would’ve married me?”“Yeah, I would’ve,” I said, my voice steady. “But your father wouldn’t have let me near you. My reputation precedes me. I’m the ‘killer bodyguard’ of the Blade family, remember?”“Are you serious right now?” She asked, her disbelief evident.“Don’t make me say it again,” I murmured, my voice rough. “You have no idea how much I fucking hate seeing you with him.”I stepped forward, trying to close the distance, but she backed away. I couldn’t blame her. She scoffed. “Mr. Blade wouldn’t let me marry you either. You don’t have his surname.”I clenched my jaw, her words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. “I don’t need his surname,” I fired back, starin
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The door rattled again. My heart slammed against my chest, panic flooding every corner of my mind. I was still on the table, my legs dangling off the edge. Since I wore a flared gown, it was easy to slide down. My feet hit the floor silently as I crouched, reaching for my panties on the ground."Are you sure they’re in here? It seems locked,” a voice outside the door muttered, but the urgency in his tone was undeniable. "What do we do?" I whispered frantically to Clayton, my voice barely a breath."Go hide behind there first," Clayton’s voice was sharp, panic in his eyes as he gripped my wrist and pointed to a row of messy stacks. Without thinking, I ran, ducking behind them, pressing my back against the pile. My hands shook as I peeked through a gap, wondering if someone had seen me—or worse, if Dontrell had sent someone.I ducked lower, clutching the fabric of my gown. Andrew’s silhouette loomed by the door as he turned the lock, the heavy sound of it unlocking echoing. Then, the d
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Dontrell stood by the home bar, his broad shoulders tense, the shadows playing against his haggard form. His dark, cold eyes burned into me, filled with questions and unspoken anger. His usually pristine appearance was frayed—his shirt hung loose, untucked, and there were faint bruises visible at the edge of his collar. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, and exhaustion clung to him, though it did nothing to dull the dangerous aura he exuded. “Where the hell are you coming from?” he asked, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the silence. I hesitated, forcing my face into a neutral expression as I tried to calm my racing heart. “I was just walking around the compound,” I said, keeping my tone even. His eyes narrowed, and he took a slow sip of his wine, as though deciding whether or not to believe me. “Walking around?” he repeated, his voice laced with suspicion. He set the glass down with a deliberate clink and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. “You know you’re
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“Wake up,” Dontrell’s deep voice pierced through the haze of my sleep. His hand on my shoulder was firm but not rough, tapping me awake with a subtle sense of urgency.My eyes fluttered open, and I saw him. He was already dressed in a sharp black shirt tucked into tailored slacks, his tall frame towering over me. His expression was unreadable, but his dark brown eyes lingered on my face.“Good morning, my dove," he murmured, his voice warm and lingering. "You’re a sight to wake up to. Mornings don’t seem so cruel with you here."A blush crept up my cheeks at his words. “Do you ever rest? How come you’re already dressed and looking like you own the world at this hour?” I asked groggily.He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “There’s barely any rest for men like me, but one day, I’ll surprise you. We’ll take a break—just the two of us. No interruptions, no chaos.”I rolled my eyes, rubbing the sleep from them as I sat up. “I don’t see that day happening,” I said, my voice tinged with sa
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I stepped out of the elevator, my eyes immediately locking with Dontrell’s. The way he looked at me made my breath catch—his eyes swept over me, taking in the curves of my body as though he couldn’t quite believe I was really standing there. His gaze lingered for a moment, an intensity in it that I couldn’t quite place. There was something in his look that made me feel like he could take control of the entire world just by willing it. He quickly regained composure, as though lost in thought for a decade. Then, with a slight smile, he beckoned me to join him. “Come to me, darling,” he said, his voice a smooth command that had me moving toward him without thinking twice. I joined him, my heart fluttering in my chest as I walked to where his friends were. Andrew’s eyes locked on me, his grin widening as he sized me up.Dontrell couldn’t help but boast a little, “You see her, right? The most beautiful woman in the room. You’d think she'd be more of a curse, but she’s mine.” His voice wa
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My body stiffened the moment I stepped into the office, away from the club section. Sitting by the large mahogany desk was—Joseph Blackwell. My breath caught. I had dreamed of this moment for so long, but nothing could have prepared me for it.He looked older—his hair streaked with gray, his proud posture now slightly hunched. But his eyes, the silver-blue ones I’d inherited, stopped me cold. Fury, pain, and impatience swirled in them, hitting me like a punch. His gaze locked onto mine, and for a split second, I saw his vulnerability.“Dad?” My voice came out more accusatory than I intended.“Allison,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he rose from the chair. Words caught in my throat, choking me. This man, the father I'd once adored, had sold me off like I was nothing. Betrayed in the worst way imaginable. My chest tightened, buried questions flooding me.Dontrell stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder as he leaned in, planting a quick kiss on my head. “I’ll be right outsid
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Blondes had always rubbed me the wrong way—icy, rebellious trouble. But Allison? She changed that. Her hair caught the light, her silver-blue eyes piercing through everything I thought I knew. She was ethereal, adoring—everything I shouldn’t want. And yet, in that instant, blonde became my favorite color.It was only in her presence that I realized a blonde could be beautiful. I traced her back, her body stirring slightly as though she recognized my touch, even in sleep. Her hair fanned across the pillow—magnetic, mine.I leaned closer, my voice soft with the kind of affection I hadn’t felt in years. “You’re in my veins, angel. The one thing I never saw coming.”My thoughts flickered back to earlier. Her face when she came. Forever burned in my memory.I sighed and pulled back, duty calling. I couldn’t afford to lose myself now.I slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb her. The warmth of her body was addictive, but duty called. I picked up my phone, scanning the me
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 51: Touched by my Mafia husband: his Fingers in my cunt.
“Each time I touch you, you get tighter, sweeter. This body of yours is a drug and I can’t quit." His words were raw as he bit my thighs.His hand slid down, his fingers grazing my clitoral area, making my body jolt, heat exploding within me. My muffled cries fought the tight gag over my lips.He doesn’t slip a finger in yet but flicks my clit—relentless, precise—making my body tremble. The strap around my waist holds me down, shockwaves pulsing through me.Every time I try to close my legs, his grip holds me open, fingers digging in, pushing me closer to the edge.My bound hands jerked against the straps as his other hand found my breasts.“You look like sin laid bare, spread out, and needy. The best part? You’re only like this for me.”His breath grew heavier and faster like mine, his grip tightening, his body moving with no hesitation.I could barely see him, my eyes rolling back into my head, but I felt his hands moving fast as he stared at my pussycat, jerking to himself.“Today’
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 50: Allison’s POV: Why did I wait this long before fucking him?
My wrists were bound above my head, leather straps biting into my skin as I struggled. He circled me, his dark eyes devouring me. The solitary pole left me exposed, my naked body glowing under the fiery red light."You’re trembling," he said, stopping before me, his voice dripping venom. "Is it always like this, or just when I’m about to ruin you?"I bit my lip, refusing to answer, though my body gave me away.He stepped closer, his hand encircling my throat, the pressure a seductive command. "Speak."I don’t know," I stammered, my voice cracking."Liar," he said, gripping my jaw and forcing my eyes to his. "Don’t lie, Dove. Be good, and maybe Daddy will go easy on you."He stroked my cheek before pressing a gag to my lips. “Open,” he commanded. I obeyed without hesitation, parting my lips as he slid the ball gag into place and fastened it tightly. My muffled sounds only heightened his control, and he smirked as he stepped back to admire his work. In his hand, he held a black leather
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 49: Dontrell’s POV: Taming Her One Cry at a Time.
The room felt suffocating as I slid my fingers along her wet heat, feeling her pulse race. I kissed her hard, urgently, as the table groaned beneath us. My hands roamed her body, deliberate, unrelenting. She gasped, but I silenced her, swallowing the sound with my mouth on hers.“You’re mine tonight," I growled, stepping closer.Her breath hitched. "I don’t—""Shh." I cut her off, my fingers brushing her neck, feeling her pulse race. "Fear’s just part of it. You’ll learn to love it."She swallowed, eyes wide, but something in her gaze shifted—curiosity or something darker. I could already feel her slipping, inch by inch, into submission.Tonight, I’d break every boundary she didn’t even know existed.Her body arched as I touched her clit, her breath quickening. “I warned you what it would mean to be at my mercy," I growled, my voice rough.Her eyes widened, but I saw the shift in her."Don't fight it," I added, watching her body tremble, giving in.She didn’t speak, but her movements
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 48: Eye fucking my rebel.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I snapped, attempting to push past him, but he moved faster, blocking my every move. His body towered over me, his cold blue eyes piercing mine with predatory intensity.You’re avoiding me, Dove,” he growled, his voice like a blade. “Tell me what I want.”His tone rumbled like thunder, shaking me to the core, heat pooling between my legs, a maddening ache I couldn't ignore.“I…I didn’t say anything important,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady, but the tremor gave me away. His lips twitched into something darker, stepping closer, his heat suffocating. “What did you say behind my back?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, darker. “Don’t worry, Dove. I won’t bite…” He leaned in until his breath fanned against my forehead, sending direct signals to my cunt. “Not unless you beg me.” I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. My lips parted, but no sound came out; a part of my brain kept reminding me that talking whi
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 47: Allison’s POV: His Touch, My Undoing.
The sunlight filtered through the drapes, casting a soft glow on the room. From here, the world below felt distant. The sprawling compound below was perfectly ordered, each detail screaming meticulous control—Dontrell’s control. Beyond the compound, houses stretched out like scattered chess pieces, barely visible through the morning haze. I turned, my feet brushing the foot carpet. The faint scent of his cologne—woodsy and dark—lingered in the air. My gaze caught on the nightstand, and my breath faltered. A bouquet of black roses whose velvety petals looked like midnight whispers lay there. Nestled among them were a pair of sleek black heels and a new Birkin bag. A crisp note rested nearby, his handwriting slanted and bold. I reached for it, my fingers trembling, as if the simple act of reading it could undo me. "To the angel who turned my night to chaos and beauty, I owe you not just an apology but the world. I’ll replace anything you’ve lost—even the pieces of yourself you thin
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 46: The End of Day, Not the End of the War.
I shoved my father harder against the car, the metallic thud echoing through the air as his back hit the frame, but it didn’t satisfy the rage boiling inside me. His smirk—the same one I’d now found myself resenting—mocked me even now, a taunting reminder of how far he’d go to destroy anyone who defied “Go on, boy. Do it," he sneered, his voice calm despite the strain in his throat. "Prove you’re no different than me."My forearm pressed harder against his neck, and for a split second, I contemplated doing exactly that. But killing him now wouldn’t satisfy me—it would only make me like him. I needed him to live long enough to feel the weight of what he’d done.I released him, shoving him harder one last time. The car shook under the force, and he coughed. For a moment, I wondered how a man his age—almost seventy—still dared to meddle in all of this. He wasn’t as strong as he once was, but his cunning made up for it. “Don’t mistake this for weakness,” I growled, locking eyes with him
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 45: Dontrell's POV: A Father’s Wrath, A Son’s Fury.
The engine of the car roared as I sped through the thick forest, the tires bumping over uneven terrain, branches scratching against the sides of the vehicle. I could barely see through the windshield; the darkness of the woods swallowed up everything around me. Andrew sat in the passenger seat, silent as always, I could see that he was dying to ask questions, but he didn’t. Not a word. I knew he wanted to know where we were headed, and what we were doing. But he was quiet.The acronym *GDL* rang in my mind. *The Godfather’s Legion*.This was no ordinary group. My father’s men—trained criminals, assassins, and deadly people from all over the world. Men who swore oaths of secrecy and loyalty to him. They fought for him, killed for him, and, if need be, they’d die for him. The GDL was for matters that couldn’t get traced back to my father. When he wanted something messy done, he’d call them in.Andrew shifted, his gun clicking as he holstered it beside him. His attention stayed on the g
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 44: A Familiar Face, A Deadly Game.
“Who the hell are you?” My voice shook, sharper now, fueled by fear and adrenaline. My mind raced, grasping for answers. There was something disturbingly familiar about him—his voice, his posture, even his towering presence. It rattled me more than the mask he wore or the weapon I knew he probably carried. Did I know him? Could I trust him? No. Not here.He stepped closer, and with one swift motion, I brought out the scissors, aiming them directly at him.“Stay back!” I spat, lifting the scissors higher and pointing them directly at his chest. “I’m not afraid to use this!” My fingers trembled, betraying my bravado, but I refused to lower my guard. His voice was low, mocking. “Drop the damn scissors before you hurt yourself.” He moved toward me again, deliberate and unrelenting. I mirrored his steps, my back legs brushing the edge of the bed as I kept the scissors pointed at him. “If you’re so fucking bold,” I snapped, my voice rising, “take off the mask and face me like a man, not a
