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Chapter 67: Allison’s POV: The Price of Secrets.
Last Updated:
2025-02-02 23:34:20
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 68: In the Face of Fate.
I glanced at my phone, my fingers tightening around it. I had only managed to go through part of the information Andrew sent me last night. There were still hours of recordings to listen to and countless PDF files left unopened. Every single thing he sent kept me up until dawn, my mind racing with revelations I never saw coming.I knew Mr. Blade was the Godfather, but I had no idea he was planning for Dontrell to take over. That’s why he’d been obsessed with me giving him an heir.My stomach churned, and a cold shiver ran down my spine as I remembered the file Andrew sent—the one that confirmed someone was out there, watching, planning my death.I swallowed hard and refocused, but the three women standing in the room made it impossible to concentrate.They stood rigid, eyes locked on me, showing no sign of hiding their impatience. I’d begged them three times to let me check my phone—and each time, they’d agreed. But now, I could feel their patience slipping.I exhaled sharply, droppin
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“Tickles, tickles," Dontrell murmured, his voice dripping with mischief as he hovered over me, his weight pressing me into the bed."Stop!" I gasped between laughter, twisting beneath him as his fingers teased my waist and ears.“Want me to stop?” he asked, slowing to a torturous pace.“No,” I gasped between giggles. “But I have a dress fitting in forty minutes and need to get up from under you.” I exhaled, staring into his dark, unreadable eyes. “But it’s so hard to leave when you look this good.” My voice trailed off as I ran my fingers through his hair.His dark eyes held mine, amusement dancing in them. "You can go whenever you want. No one's going to charge you a late f*e when the fashion house belongs to your husband."I laughed. “That’s true. And to think I spent all my time in college obsessing over every new collection from Trelluxe High Fashion, buying everything—clothes, accessories, bags—like my father owned the business. Never once did I think to check who owned it.” I sho
Last Updated : 2025-02-04The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 71—A Cold Glance.
The atelier was a temple of luxury, a world of exclusivity draped in soft golden light and perfumed with the scent of the finest fabrics. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over mannequins adorned in breathtaking gowns—each an unapologetic display of opulence. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected the essence of high fashion, while polished marble floors whispered beneath the weight of designer heels. The air hummed with the quiet rustle of silk and hushed conversations between tailors and their elite clientele.As I stepped further into the private showcasing room, Lena, one of the senior attendants, approached with a practiced elegance, a glass of red wine in her delicate fingers. She handed it to me with a reverent nod.“Here, Mrs. Blade. To keep you refreshed while we fit you into the gown,” she said smoothly.I took the glass, swirling the liquid idly, watching how the deep crimson coated the glass. "Thank you," I murmured, my eyes already scanning
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I ran into the small storage room, my heart racing in my chest, and Andrew followed close behind. His eyes darted across the quiet hallway before he shut the door behind us quietly, then he locked it. The only sound was our breathing and the pulse of my own panic as I paced in the small, cramped room, shelves stacked high with boxes."Andrew... hell has broken loose; we’ve been caught." I wept, voice shaking. My fingers twitched nervously against the fabric of my dress. My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything to focus on, but all that was in sight was fabrics, machines, and boxes. I wasn’t sure if it was the fear, guilt, or the danger looming over us now that was making me shiver, but my knees felt weak, and my head was as heavy as lead.He grabbed my shoulders gently, forcing me to face him. "Calm down. Let me see the text again," he said, his voice low but steady. Andrew wasn’t panicking like I was, and for someone whose life was on the line, his calmness triggered me
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I stood across from Andrew in the cold, dimly lit storage room. The air was thick with the weight of my breath, the silence pressing in on me as I watched him type furiously on his phone. His forehead had sweat all over it, and his eyes darkened with fury. The message he sent was short, clipped, and dangerously precise.“I have a job for you. I need eyes on someone right now.”I swallowed the lump in my throat, my tears still fresh from the fear gnawing at my insides. "Who was that, Andrew?" I whispered, panic bubbling inside me. "We have to be careful. We can’t let anyone else find out about us."Andrew didn't look up, his fingers moving relentlessly across the screen. He glanced at me with a cold, controlled stare, his lips thinning.“You don’t need to worry, Allison. I know how to handle this. I’m not panicking, and you shouldn’t either. I’ve been in worse situations, and each time I’ve escaped them. This blackmailer is in it for money, not revenge. He wouldn’t play this game if he
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He didn’t say a word. His eyes locked onto me, cutting through the air with cold intensity. My stomach churned, but I fought to mask the panic clawing at me.His lips curled into a smile, sharp and calculating. His hand shot out to me, his jaw tightening as he spoke. "You tell me, Allison," he said, his voice low, measured, yet with a dangerous bite beneath it. "Why I can’t stop staring at you when you make my chest burn, raise my temperature, and you look so damn good, even after spending thirty minutes in the toilet, dumping a mess yet walking out like a goddess?"I laughed, but it came out tight. "Don't say that here," I muttered, moving toward him, grabbing his hand.He smirked. “Say what? That my wife could walk out of the bathroom—the least favorite room of anyone—and still look good?” His words were playful, but there was something deep in his eyes.I smiled, glancing around at the reception. Everyone—ushers and staff—was looking at us. Eyes wide, taking in the scene. Before I
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“Answer me, Allison,” Dontrell’s voice was low, edged with a warning, his gaze locked onto mine like a predator closing in. “Who the fuck was that calling you, and why are you ignoring their calls?”My throat felt dry. I swallowed, trying to keep my expression neutral, but his fingers on my thigh tightened. He wasn’t just waiting for an answer—he was demanding one. The air in his office suddenly felt heavier.I let out a small, calculated sigh, reaching for my phone with feigned annoyance. Shaking my head, I set it down beside me, like the call had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He was watching me too closely, dissecting every flicker of emotion on my face. I couldn’t crack.“It’s the delivery guy for the heels I ordered,” I lied smoothly, slipping my phone back onto the chair. My voice held just the right amount of irritation as if this was nothing but a stupid mix-up. “He was confirming the address again. I told him to check his system and hung up, but he keeps bother
Last Updated : 2025-02-07The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 76: The King’s Office: A Battlefield of Pleasure.
The air in Dontrell’s office was thick—suffocating with want.I laid back flat against the plush leather of his sofa, my thighs spread as he knelt between them, one strong hand wrapped around my throat, the other buried beneath my panties. Two fingers curled inside me, each stroke ruthless, sending a flood of heat through my veins. His mouth was on me—hot, consuming—tongue lashing over my nipple, teeth scraping just enough to make me whimper.His grip on my neck tightened, forcing my gaze to meet his. Dark. Unrelenting."I’m not just going to give you what you want," he murmured against my skin, voice dripping with command. "I’m going to take everything. Every breath, every moan, every last drop of sanity until all you know is me."I tried to respond, tried to form words, but all that came out was a desperate moan as his fingers drove deeper, fucking me with a pace that made my back arch. The slick, obscene sound of his fingers moving inside me filled the office, blending with the wet
Last Updated : 2025-02-07
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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 didn’t do it to betray you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.Clayton didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, cold and still, like my words were just noise blowing through a storm he had already survived.“Then why, Allison?” Clayton snapped. “Why pay some street rat to tail me, digging through my business like I’m just some suspect on a list?”My stomach twisted into a hard knot. “You weren’t giving me the truth. I needed answers.”He sighed and sat on the edge of the desk, his body so close to me. “So instead of asking me, you go behind my back like a coward?”I exhaled.“No,” he laughed bitterly. “Not a coward. A traitor.”“Don’t call me that,” I said quickly, but my voice broke.He tilted his head, his eyes burning into me. “Why shouldn't I? You went snooping where you had no business. You treated me like the enemy. Like I haven’t bled for you these past few days.”“I needed to protect myself,” I said, voice shaking. “You kept me in the dark.”“I told
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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
