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Chapter 21: Under Pressure
Last Updated:
2025-01-04 21:17:13
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 22: Whispers of the Enemy
“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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My father didn’t flinch, only pressed his lips tight. A sharp exhale followed, frustration clear—as I couldn’t see the logic in his betrayal.“Why are you acting like you don’t get it?" he snapped. "The pressure, the stakes. The Blades aren't just anyone. They demand loyalty. A child would've sealed that. I agreed because it made sense—it’ll strengthen our bond with them. It’s not as monstrous as you think."His words slammed into me like a physical blow. ‘Not as monstrous as I think?’ He was justifying the expectation that I’d produce an heir like some broodmare. Fury swelled in my chest, threatening to explode.And then it did.Without thinking, I closed the distance between us in two strides. My hand rose, and before I could stop myself, a loud slap echoed through the room. The force of it reverberated through my hand. My father’s head snapped to the side, his cheek reddening as he stumbled slightly, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.But then the room shifted. The walls
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“You’ve got guts thinking you can touch her while I’m standing here.” Dontrell’s voice was razor-sharp, slicing through the room with a quiet menace.“Move." The masked man's voice sliced through the tension, cold and unrelenting.I couldn’t see—Dontrell’s frame was a fortress, and I dared not peek around it.“Tell my father if he wants something, he can come here himself. She’s not going anywhere.” Dontrell’s voice was a low growl, thick with authority.The room held its breath.The room held its breath as footsteps echoed, heavy and deliberate. I heard the intruder advancing closer. My pulse thundered.Nadeem, who had been standing by my side, moved forward, ready to intercept. But before he could take another step, Dontrell’s arm shot out like a steel barrier, halting him."This isn’t your fight, Nadeem," Dontrell said, his voice low and commanding. "I’ll handle this." The authority in his tone left no room for argument. Nadeem froze, his muscles taut, then reluctantly stepped bac
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The incessant beep of the heart monitor was the first thing I noticed. It pierced the thick fog in my mind, pulling me from the abyss. I blinked, slowly opening my eyes, only to shut them again at the bright, harsh white light above me. I couldn’t tell if it was real or a trick of my mind, but it was relentless, like the sterile smell of disinfectant that hung in the air—clean, but far from comforting.I tried again. This time, I kept my eyes open, the white paint of the room filling my vision. The softness of the sheets beneath me. A cold, uncomfortable weight in my head—like a fog I couldn’t push away.Then, the first face came into focus—Dontrell. He stood over me, towering like a shadow, his face a mask of worry and concern. My breath hitched, and I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper."Where... where am I?" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper."Shh..." His hand was warm as it gently cupped mine, rubbing my fingers softly. "You're in the hospital, Dove."He placed a
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Dontrell sprang up and sat beside me, his weight shifting the mattress slightly on my left. His presence was comforting as I leaned into him. The weight of everything still pressed on my chest, but for now, his presence was soothing.“Hey, it’s okay," he said, his voice steady. "I know things feel off right now, but you don’t have to carry this alone."His words eased the weight on my chest. His hand on mine was a steady comfort, grounding me in the moment. “You’ve got me, always. I’m not going anywhere,” he added, the sincerity in his words leaving no room for doubt. I turned my head to meet his eyes, my chest swelling with emotion. Andrew stepped away from where he had been standing behind us and moved to my right side. He stood close enough to offer support. His hand lightly rested on my shoulder."We’re both here for you," Andrew said, his voice soft but filled with the same genuine care. “You’ve been through a lot, but you're not facing it alone.”I nodded, grateful, but my hea
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I swerved into the compound, the hum of my engine echoing through the quiet night. I parked my car, the lights flickering out, and reached under the seat for my gun. I didn’t have time to waste. I stepped out, eyes scanning the area. The guards nodded, keeping their distance.The building above ground was nothing special—a quiet, unremarkable café with vintage décor. But beneath that, hidden away by a locked door and accessed through a narrow staircase, was a whole other world. I made my way downstairs to the cellar, where the low, pulsing beat of music greeted me. The place was a nightclub for criminals—polished obsidian bar, dim lighting, arched brick walls, leather booths for privacy, and a dance floor full of bodies lost in the rhythm. Security screens flashed with live footage of the café upstairs, keeping everything clean. Private rooms were scattered throughout for the high-stakes meetings and deals that went down.I sighted Fang, seated at a leather booth in the far corner. H
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“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’
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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
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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
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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
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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
