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Chapter 40: Dontrell’s POV: The Hunt for Allison.
Last Updated:
2025-01-15 22:08:45
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I slammed the brakes, my thoughts racing. The shockwave from the explosion hit me like a tidal wave. My car jolted backward, every bone-rattling. But my mind was already several steps ahead. Allison. Was she in there? The thought of her, trapped in that chaos, ignited a rage that nearly consumed me."Fuck!" Andrew’s voice crackled through the radio. "Was that the warehouse?""Yes,” I snapped. “Get your fire extinguishers out. Get to work, but be careful.”There was no response—just static, the connection fading as the explosion's aftermath interfered with the frequency.“Get out of the car, now!” I shouted, not waiting for them to answer. “Stay low. Watch for landmines or any tucked bombs. They could be all around us.”I threw open my car’s door. Heat rushed at me like a wave. The flames danced like an angry beast, consuming everything remaining in the wrecked warehouse. The sky was smeared with orange and black, and the sound of metal cracking and wood collapsing filled the air.I du
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Pain flared in my skull as I regained consciousness. The dim light above stung, and the air was thick with alcohol and smoke. My legs were tied, but my hands were free, trembling as I touched my forehead.“Ouch!” I winced at the spot where the man had struck me, the wound roughly bandaged. My heart hammered in the tense silence. Sweat beaded on my brow as the setting sun filtered weakly through a high window.The place reeked of fear. A single light above me cast long shadows. I strained to see further, but my surroundings dissolved into dimness. Suddenly, the space around me came alive with the sharp hum of fluorescent lights flickering on. I flinched as the building came into view. Panic surged through me as low, gruff voices echoed from every direction. I spun in circles, disoriented, trying to pinpoint the source, but the sounds seemed to come from everywhere.The faint rattle of chains drew my attention forward. My heart dropped as I made out seven figures kneeling on the floor
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They shoved me into the glass-walled room so hard I hit the cold, tiled floor with a sharp cry. The impact rattled from my knees to the whole of my body, but I barely registered the pain over the suffocating scent of disinfectant that clawed at my nostrils. Gasping for air, I looked up, my chest heaving as my eyes darted around the room. Heavy curtains hung over the transparent walls, concealing us from the gaze of people outside, also casting shadows that only deepened my sense of entrapment in this clinical nightmare.The doctor stood in the corner, his white coat smeared with stains that told stories I didn’t want to imagine. He was cleaning his instruments methodically, humming a haunting, detached melody. His gloved hands moved with precision, wiping blades, forceps, and syringes with clinical disinterest. He turned his head, his cold, calculating gaze locking onto mine as he approached."Don’t even think about anything funny," he said, his voice low, almost conversational. Yet t
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“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
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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
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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 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
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“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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I left Andrew behind in the wine cellar and took the staircase straight down, emerging into the general living room of the penthouse. From there, I strode across the open foyer and exited the building, stepping onto the grand steps leading down to the car lot.The air was heavy, a strong breeze rolling through — a —a downpour was coming. It was only 4 PM, yet the sky was tinged with an ominous shade of grey.Silas was already waiting beside the bulletproof Mercedes-Maybach. The moment he spotted me, he pulled open the back door. I slid in, placing my gift basket beside me, and within seconds, he was in the driver’s seat, manoeuvring the car smoothly through the vast compound.As we neared the massive entrance gate of the compound, preparing to enter into the main road, my gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, catching sight of one of Dontrell’s cars. A deep red Rolls-Royce Phantom Guard pulled out behind us. My eyes flicked to Silas.“Where are those men going?” I asked, my voice carryi
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She looked up at me, her lips curling in that knowing smile—but she didn’t sit back on my lap. “I know you, Dontrell. You’re not a man who lets his business slip away. But I’ll be here when you come back. I trust you.” She responded gently.“I trust you, too, Allison.” The words were dark and rough, but they were true. “I need you to understand—whatever happens, you belong to me. And that means I’ll burn anyone who dares come for you.”She met my gaze with an unspoken understanding. “You don’t have to say it,” she smiled. “I see it in everything you do.”I was still seated, my grip firm around her fingers, tracing slow circles against her palm.When I rose, I pulled her close. Her breath hitched as my body pressed against hers, the heat between us reigniting. My dick stirred, rubbing against her skin.She winked up at me before a slow, wicked smile spread across her small lips."Again?" she teased.I smirked, brushing a thumb over her hip. "You do this to me, Angel."She leaned in, he
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The words were soft, hesitant, but they detonated inside my skull like a damn bomb. My whole body tensed beneath her, the warmth between us turning razor-sharp. Love. That word didn’t belong in my world—it didn’t belong in my chest or bloodstream. But she had just dropped it between us like it was something simple, something light.I went still. My fingers, which had been lazily tracing her back, froze against her spine."Go ahead, lie to me. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll pretend to believe it." She blurted out. She wasn’t letting me escape this."You’ve slit throats and spilt blood for me. Don’t insult me by pretending it wasn’t love." Her eyes searched mine.I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. I had waited so damn long to hear those words, but now that I had, they felt foreign. Like something I wasn’t meant to have. My father, and everyone who knew the truth of our marriage, had sworn that her loving me was impossible. Which woman on earth would love a man whose father had kidnapped h
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His hands found my hips, and he dragged me closer, legs spread, nipples pointing at him as I lay on the desk. I gasped at the hardness of his cock pressing onto my groin, my thighs squeezed instinctively; the feeling of anticipation was too much to bear."Keep those gates open," he barked, forcing them apart. His thumb found my clit, pressing just enough to send a sharp jolt through me.“Slick and red, just how I like it, he mused, circling it slowly, lazily. "I haven’t figured out if I should taste you first or just shove my cock inside and fuck you stupid."He circled his dick slowly on it, making me whimper. Then his hands took over. I couldn't think—I could barely breathe. His fingers moved faster, rubbing tight, focused circles until I arched against the table.A low moan escaped his lips as he watched me squirm. "That's my girl. Always ready to come undone for me."His fingers worked faster—relentless, merciless, not inside my cunt but on my clit and all the surroundings of my v
