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Chapter 31: Seductive Surrender: A Taste of Him.
Last Updated:
2025-01-10 22:35:30
Maria.T.Thank you so much for reading this far! To those who may not have liked or commented yet, I still truly appreciate your views—they mean so much and keep me motivated. If you can, I’d be thrilled if you could leave a like, a comment, and follow. 'The Mafia’s Angel ordeal' is just beginning, and what you’ve seen is only the tip of the iceberg—there’s so much more to come!"
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I heard her scream before I even had a chance to react, the sound piercing through the sexual tension we’d been caught in. The shock of it sent my body into full alert, my muscles tight, adrenaline flooding my veins as I sat up on the bed, my eyes darting to the balcony she pointed frantically toward.“What is it?” I asked, my voice sharp with concern. My desire still burned, but her fear cut through it.""Someone's on the balcony," she shouted, her voice trembling, grabbing the duvet and wrapping it around herself. Her chest heaved, face pale with terror.I shot up from the bed, the rage I’d felt a second ago gone in an instant, replaced by instinct. I rushed to the balcony, sliding the glass door open with force and stepping onto the cool, concrete floor.I scanned the darkness outside, my eyes darting, searching for any sign of movement. “Who’s there?” I called out, my voice cutting through the silence.Nothing. Just the faint rustle of the wind, the quiet of the night. I stretched
Last Updated : 2025-01-11The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 33: Between Fear and Reality.
Darkness stretched across the eerie hallways of my childhood school. I was sixteen again, running, breathless, my heart pounding. Someone in a mask was chasing me, their footsteps echoing menacingly behind me. I turned a corner and stumbled into a hallway. Silence. They were gone. My breathing was ragged as I scanned the walls, and my chest tightened at the sight plastered everywhere—the name *BLADE*, bold and suffocating, smeared on every surface. I glanced down and froze. I was wearing a top with Mr. Blade's face on it. The hallway door behind me slammed shut, and the walls began to close in, grinding closer and closer. I ran, my legs burning, but I couldn’t stop. If I fell, the closing walls would crush me. Ahead, I saw the door to the outside, light spilling through it like salvation.My mum stood there, her arms outstretched, beckoning me. Tears blurred my vision as I pushed harder, each step a battle. Just a few more strides, a final leap to safety... I jumped toward her, reach
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I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Where did he find it? Had he taken it off while I slept? Or had it been lying somewhere? How could I have been so careless?“Yes, that's what I was searching for,” I said, forcing steadiness into my voice. My heart hammered, but I kept my composure.“Well, your luck's in,” Dontrell said, tossing the bracelet in the air before catching it with his left hand. He stretched it toward me, eyes never leaving mine.I exhaled, relieved. "Thank God," I muttered, trying to brush it off. "I almost thought I lost it for good."“Nah, you didn’t lose it,” he replied, his tone calm but firm. “Remember when we rushed you to the hospital? I took it off to avoid losing another piece of your jewelry during the chaos. It slipped my mind until I found it in my pocket this morning.”I laughed softly, shaken by how he remembered everything. “Thanks," I said, but his gaze remained fixed on me, sharp and intense."So, what's with this bracelet?" he asked, his tone casual, but
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The words lingered, heavy as a storm cloud. Dontrell’s gaze never shifted, and for a moment, time slowed, the car engine humming in the silence. My fingers gripped the seatbelt, grounding me as my thoughts scattered, like a puzzle I couldn’t solve."Why ask that?" My voice was barely above a whisper, afraid to break the fragile calm between us.But even as I spoke, I knew the answer. And it terrified me."Sometimes, I think my dad’s eyes and ears are everywhere. I can feel his gaze even when he’s not around. I’m not scared for me, Allison. I escaped him for ten years in San Diego." His voice was steady, but the words carried something darker.“I’m scared for you.” He paused, his jaw tightening. “And now that I’m back here, I fear it might come to a point where I’ll have to choose between you and my family. Where I’ll have to do things I’d regret, just to protect you.”“I don’t get why he’s on your neck. You’ve kept your part of the deal, marrying me. It’s like he wants control of you.
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The room buzzed with whispers, but I tuned everything out. My eyes were locked on the TV above the reception desk. The headline flashed boldly:“The Blades Heiress or a Pawn? Inside the Scandal of Allison Blackwell.”The accompanying text stabbed at me like a knife: “Marriage or a Cover for the Blades’ Secret Gay Lives?”Then the volume on the TV suddenly increased, cutting through the low murmurs. Now, every single word being said was audible. All eyes flicked to the screen, and the rest shifted toward me. The news anchor’s voice was sharp and cutting. "Rumors swirl around Dontrell Blade, hinting at possible impotence, while his younger brother, Clayton, is rumored to be infertile. These two brothers, among the wealthiest and most eligible men in Los Angeles, have sparked endless speculation. Both are over thirty, with no children or baby mamas in sight. Could they both be gay, hiding their truth in plain sight?"Her co-host chimed in, feigning concern. “I pity the young bride—poo
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Dr. James studied me with cold detachment, his gaze making my skin crawl.The tension in the room was palpable as I stepped forward, my heels clicking sharply against the sterile floor. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic. There were two doors, one to the left and one to the right, likely leading to a bathroom and a changing room. But my focus was fixed on him—Dr. James."Mrs. Blade?" His voice was smooth and authoritative, but too rough for someone with such captivating eyes. It felt out of place coming from him. "Please, have a seat.""Thank you," I replied, sitting down. I controlled my breathing, trying to suppress the fluttering unease his presence stirred in me.His gaze never left me. A small tattoo peeked out from beneath his shirt collar—strange for a doctor. I focused on his hands to avoid feeling his scrutiny.“I’m Dr. James. How are you today?” His tone was too professional, too cold. His eyes felt like they were piercing through me, seeing more than just my face.“Fine,
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The room felt suffocating, a prison of stale air and dread. Dr. James stood before me, the gun steady in his grip, his eyes cold and calculating. Pathetic,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Dragged into your husband’s mess, now you're just a target. Helpless. A lamb that thinks it's safe in a wolf’s den.”Panic surged; my pulse a frantic drum against my ribs. The cuffs cut into my skin as I thrashed, the tape burning my lips with every breath. Focus. Focus! My heart hammered, my mind racing with fear. Stay calm. Stay alive.He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back so sharply that I gasped beneath the tape. Pain shot through my scalp as I looked up into his merciless eyes. “Love or money—doesn’t matter now. If you get out of this alive, file for divorce and leave that family,” he taunted, his grip tightening. “Do you even understand how many people’s fates are tied to your silence?” He let go abruptly, and my head dropped forward, the strain leaving my nec
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The lobby was now scanty, unlike earlier when eyes were everywhere. I sat there, my gaze locked on the clock above the receptionist's desk. Another minute ticked by. Then another. It had been over an hour now, and she still hadn’t returned. I shifted, not caring if anyone looked or spoke in hushed tones; my chest tightened with every passing second, but only because Allison was taking too long. I pulled out my phone and dialed Allison's number. One ring. Two rings. Straight to voicemail.I dialed again. Nothing."Something’s wrong," I muttered under my breath, rising from my seat. My mind raced as the thought began to solidify.I stood up, not even bothering to smooth out my jacket. I was done waiting. I marched straight to the nurse’s station, my impatience rising with every step.“Where’s Dr. James?” I snapped, leaning over the counter, my tone biting. “And why the hell hasn’t my wife come back yet?”The nurse blinked at me, startled. “Sir, please calm down. Dr. James is still in h
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The ground beneath me swayed like I stood on the edge of an abyss. My pulse thundered in my ears, muffling the voices around me.Mr Blade’s stare held me captive—cold, unreadable. Clayton’s gaze was no softer, sharp as a knife. Doris stood frozen, barely breathing.I was trapped.I let go of her hand, but the weight of the moment didn’t lessen.“Go on.” Mr Blade’s calm voice masked steel. “Tell her what you want to tell her. Nobody else has to hear.”I scoffed, my lips curling in defiance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”His face hardened. “Speak.” The command cracked like a whip.A presence shifted beside him. Dontrell. He had been at the burial front, yet somehow, he stood here, appearing as if from thin air.“Is there a problem here?” Dontrell asked his father. His voice was calm, but his stance bristled with power. “I heard your voice from a distance.”Mr Blade’s lips curled in displeasure. “No problem… unless your wife wants one.”Dontrell’s posture stiffened, his eyes
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 140: One. Two. Pull the Trigger.
Rocco’s entire body shook. "What?"His eyes darted between his dying son and Dontrell’s cold, unyielding gaze. The room held its breath. A father’s impossible choice—yet here he was. His son twitched, drowning in his blood. No saving him. No stopping this. Mr Blade didn’t blink. The walls closed in.Dontrell’s voice was merciless. “She’s locked in a container on my dock. If I have to pull the trigger, I’ll have my men drop her in the ocean —ALIVE.”Rocco’s grip wavered as he took the gun. His fingers trembled, nearly dropping it.Mr Blade stepped toward Rocco, gripping his cane. He pulled off the rubber tip at the bottom—revealing a sharp blade. With a brutal thrust, he stabbed Rocco’s foot.Rocco screamed.Mr Blade twisted the blade deeper. "I pull it out; it goes in your back next. Stop wasting my time."Rocco sobbed.Dontrell’s voice cut through, counting. "One. Two—"Rocco murmured to his son, “I’m sorry.”He pulled the trigger. The bullet punched through his son's forehead, blood
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I hadn’t left the living room, just shifted—hitting Dontrell, striking Clayton, demanding answers they didn’t have. How did they let this happen? Why didn’t they save him?At some point, a guard tried holding me back. I slapped him too. But none of it mattered. Andrew was still gone.Now, It was nearly four a.m., and I was still here. Neither Dontrell nor Clayton had left. They had told me to go to bed, but how could I close my eyes after what had happened?The phone calls never stopped all night. Different numbers, different voices, different updates. The Blade men were already hunting a name—Rocco Valeri. The bastard who killed Andrew. I sometimes forgot how ruthless and skilled the Blades were—especially with their own enemies.I prayed they found him. But I also knew something. When the Blade family hunts a foe, they don't seek revenge, they seek annihilation.I hadn't even realized I had dozed off until the sound of heavy boots storming into the living room jolted me awake. I s
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 138: Everything Faded to Black.
Tires screeched on the rough pavement as I swerved, forcing the car to its limits. Dust choked the air as I sped toward the warehouse. The engine roared—a battle cry."Hold on!" I barked, gripping the wheel. My heart pounded with the engine's growl.Clayton and Dontrell braced behind me, jaws tight, fingers twitching on their guns. The eight men left in their convoy followed closely behind us. No turning back now.I pushed harder. VRRROOOMMM—swerved past a wrecked truck.The warehouse loomed, rusted doors towering like hell’s gates. I hit the brakes. Tires screamed as the car skidded into position.The moment I cut the engine, the doors flew open."Move! Move! Move!" I bellowed, shoving my door open.Everyone jumped out, weapons drawn. The air was thick with tension, the promise of war looming over us like a storm ready to break."Where the hell are our troops?" I barked at Dontell. “We need the damn backup now!" I stepped out, both guns in hand.He barely looked up from his phone. "
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The moment I stepped out of the airport, the first thing I saw was Dontrell—he leaned against the bulletproof SUV, arms crossed, unreadable. Clayton sat in the front, scanning the surroundings.Immediately I got in, Clayton fired up the engine, jaw tight, steering through the busy street.Five armored cars flanked us—two ahead, three behind, like an iron wall. But inside our bulletproof ride, it was just us.Dontrell sat beside me, loading his gun with practiced ease. I did the same, checked my rounds, cocked my weapon, tightened my vest. The car smelled of gun oil and adrenaline."Trust’s a luxury I can’t afford," Dontrell muttered, reloading. "That’s why Clayton’s driving." He tossed me a gun. "This conversation stays between us."I nodded, my fingers tightening around the cold steel in my hands, fully loaded. No safety. No bullshit. “Talk to me.” Clayton pulled onto the road, leading the convoy as we sped out of the city. The silence was heavy. The kind before war.Dontrell unzip
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 136: Allison pov - Twisted Fate.
Alone in the mansion, I curled up on the velvet couch, flipping through a book I wasn’t even reading. The television murmured in the background, its flickering images failing to distract me. Security was everywhere. They had been in here with me before, but I had asked them to stay outside —their presence was suffocating.In the past twenty-four hours, my life has been a whirlwind. Mr Blade had called, demanding to speak to me, but Dontrell refused to hand me the phone. Then my father called—cold as ever. He boasted about his bank’s new investor, thanks to me and our ties to the Blades. As if that wasn’t enough, he reminded me I was taking too long to have a child, asking, ‘What was my problem?’ I hung up without a word. I wouldn’t let his voice poison my thoughts.Despite the chaos, Dontrell had been genuinely worried about me. He continuously asked if my father’s call or Mr Blade’s demand had upset me. "I’m fine," I lied, and he also didn’t believe me.Paranoid, more than usual. He
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I ran into her arms, breath hitching as I crushed myself against her. I buried my head in her lap. Her scent—warm. Familiar. Home.She yanked my hair. Pain flared, but I didn’t pull away. I let her. I deserved it. I buried my head in her lap, a boy again, clinging to comfort long lost.“Andrew.” Her voice wavered. “A son after my own heart.” Her grip loosened. Trembling, she wiped the tears I hadn’t noticed.My name left her lips like a ghost.My throat was thick, my voice hoarse. "Mom—"She slapped me.It didn’t hurt. What hurt was the look in her eyes.“Sixteen years.” Her voice cracked.I clenched my jaw, her words pressing down on me. “I had no choice.”Her breath shook. Her gaze was desperate. Accusing.She laughed, brittle. “That’s where you’re wrong, Andrew.” She turned away, whispering. “You always had a choice.”Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.I exhaled slowly, the words I had never been able to say finally escaping.I tensed. Years. Silence. Distance. Cr
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 134: Andrew’s POV – 2010.
The house was much smaller, its wooden planks warped by time. Each breeze made the walls groan, and beyond the backyard, only dry grass clung to life. Inside, the air held the scent of aged wood—and faint traces of my father, though he was gone.We had only the large soil he once dreamed would make him a wealthy farmer and gardener.I lay beside my mother, her body trembling as she clutched my six-year-old siblings, Elijah and Elsie, who tried to comfort her in their childish ways.“Don’t cry, Mama,” Elsie said, her little voice serious. “Maybe Papa will come back.”Elijah nodded, puffing out his small chest. “Big Brother, why did God take Daddy? When will he come back?”I exhaled shakily, pressing my forehead against my mother’s shoulder. I wanted to tell them the truth, that Dad wasn’t coming back, but instead, I found myself whispering, “Heaven needed him because the workers in the sky are very busy now. God asked him to help make more clouds so kids like you could be happy. He’ll
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 133: Andrew’s POV; A Boy Left, A Man Returned.
I stared out the jet window as Ireland’s city lights melted into the countryside’s darkness. The engine hummed, but my thoughts were louder. It had been years since I last set foot here—since my father’s death, since I left my mother and siblings behind.Her face came back to me. I remembered it like I had seen it just yesterday. Soft eyes, tired but kind. Would she recognise me? Would she even care that I was back?The wheels hit the tarmac. I exhaled. I was home.I stood outside the airport, staring at the land I swore I'd never return to—the soil that held my father’s bones, the city that spit on us when we were nothing.And now, I was back.Sixteen years. Since I left. Since I saw her.The drive from the airport to the compound was long, cutting through large cities and then to the quiet farmlands and open fields. My driver, Coleman, was silent most of the way until we finally reached the outskirts of my family's land.Ireland had changed, but its scent remained—earthy, raw, steepe
