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Chapter 89: December 20th: The Cost of Choosing Him.
Last Updated:
2025-02-15 21:46:15
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 90: Choked, Stroked, and Soaked with his cock.
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
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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
Last Updated : 2025-02-17The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 92: Dontrell’s POV: Mine to Protect.
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
Last Updated : 2025-02-18The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 93: Wicked heart, pretty face, bitter endings.
I gripped a bottle of Romanée-Conti 1945, my fingers tightening on it. I admired the way the bottle's curves fit comfortably in my palm and its vintage design. The scent of aged oak and bourbon mixed with the chill air of the wine cellar. Indecision gnawed at me as I wondered if I should take this vintage wine or if a bottle of whisky would do for him. Almost immediately, I heard his footsteps even before the door opened. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. I recognised him by the rhythm of his walk and the unmistakable scent of his cologne—Shia. “Has it come to this?” Andrew's voice cut through the air, the bitterness sharp. He leaned against the door frame, his arms and legs crossed; he watched me as if I were something to dissect, something difficult to understand.I didn’t turn to face him as I responded but I dropped the bottle of wine into my wooden basket gently alongside the other items in it. “Come to what, Andrew?” My voice barely carried, almost lost in the cavernous
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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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"Didn’t anyone teach you to knock? Or to read a fucking sign? This office was out of bounds, even for you.”Mr. Blade’s voice snapped through the air like a whip, but I barely heard him. My mind was still trying to process the filth in front of me. Because it wasn’t some nightmare I could wake up from. It was real.Celine. Sprawled across Dontrell’s desk. Her legs spread wide, her body on full display. She moaned like a cheap whore, her voice filthy, breathless—obscene.Beside her, Damien—one of Clayton’s security guards—stood, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself as he watched, waiting for his turn. The scent of sweat, sex, and sin thickened the air, making my stomach churn.The four other men—naked—had already finished on her. Their filth still glistened on her body, their tip and floor filled with cum.She turned her head, eyes half-lidded with lust as Damien plunged a vibrator into her. “Are you going to join the fun or stay away?” she asked me. Her body twitched in p
Last Updated : 2025-02-22The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 96: Rain, Ruin, and Redemption.
Rain pounded against the car like a relentless drumbeat. I sat there, drenched, my body trembling from the cold, my mind replaying the scene over and over—Celine moaning, her workout pussy lips, the men violating her, Mr. Blade directing it all like some twisted film producer. And Dontrell—he had known. He had allowed it. No, he was in on it.The car door remained open. Andrew stood there, his broad frame blocking the rain from completely drenching the interior. He didn’t close the door. He didn’t speak. He just stood by me, leaning on the car, watching me. Silent. I sobbed the more for a while before I met his gaze, my chest heaving. Of course, he was silent—I had insulted him this morning before storming out of the house, throwing words at him like daggers. Maybe this was my punishment. Maybe he wanted me to sit in my misery.But as he turned to leave, I reached out and grabbed his arm. He was just as wet as I was, his wrist cold against mine. His shirt was soaked through, clinging
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The house was too quiet as I sat.Andrew had told me he would check the docks for Dontrell. I begged him not to start a fight, and he promised he wouldn’t. But now, sitting alone at home, I couldn’t help but wonder—what had they discussed? Was Dontrell really the one with the shoe? If he told Andrew the truth, would Andrew tell me?I think he would. Andrew needs me to leave, Dontrell. But the fact that he still defended Dontrell—insisting he’d never be involved with a woman like Celine—showed just how loyal he was to Dontrell before I came into the picture.Later that evening…I sat in front of my dresser, a hairdryer in hand, wearing nothing but a silk robe. My wet hair clung to my shoulders as I ran my fingers and the dryer through it. The shower had washed away the crime, but not the betrayal. That would never fade.Suddenly—I heard a slam!Someone was stomping their feet continuously outside the room. It made my pulse spike as the heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway.But I d
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The car raced down the street, swerving through traffic as my driver drove like a madman following my frantic orders, fury lacing my voice.“Faster!” I yelled. “Drive like your life depends on it—because it does!”My fists clenched where they rested on my thighs. The leather seat beneath me squeaked from the force of my tension. I was a storm, ready to rip apart the sky.Tyres screeched as the car lunged forward; I didn’t care who we hit.Headlines lit up my phone screen like flames stoking my rage.{**SHOCKING TURN IN BLACKWELL MISCARRIAGE CASE—DONTRELL BLADE ARRESTS HIS BROTHER for poisoning his wife. ****Mafia Heiress in Coma After Miscarriage: Blade Brothers at War.****IS ALLISON FAKING IT? Sources Claim Miscarriage May Be a Setup****SHE’S WINNING: ALLISON Blackwell Faked Miscarriage to Pit Brothers Against Each Other.****BLACKWELL’S DAUGHTER IN COMA, The Blade’s LEGACY IN JEOPARDY.**}Liars. But the truth buried in their lies made my stomach turn—Clayton poisoned her.I shove
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 146: Rot in Hell.
I didn’t wait for Mr Blackwell’s response. My words hung in the air like poison, suffocating the space between us. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t dare challenge me—not here, not now.Clayton swallowed, his eyes narrowing, but he stayed silent, looking at us.“Exactly.” I barked. “You’ll do nothing.”"Brother," Clayton said, his voice deceptively calm. “Everyone just wants to know if she’s fine.”I walked right up to him and leaned in, whispering in his ear. Only he would hear the words. My hand gripped his neck, tightening like a noose, pretending like it was just two blood brothers talking secretively. But I wasn’t just talking to him—I was choking him, tightening his neck, and he didn’t dare break; he just stood there, losing his breath.“I hope you rot in hell,” I whispered, my voice low and filled with venom.“Trying to take everything from me. My wife, my heir. All for the sake of your twisted ambition, you killed my child in the process—your own flesh and blood—just to secure
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 145: Say something Dontrell.
The doctor’s face turned ghostly pale, his hands shaking as he stammered. “Mr Dontrel. Your wife will be fine, I swear it! Please… don’t hurt me. Let’s discuss this like gentlemen.” His fear bled through every word, a trembling mess of desperation. Panic clawed at him because I locked the door, and I could taste it, thick in the air. But none of it mattered. He wasn’t the one I was after. His terror was nothing but a distant noise I couldn’t be bothered to hear.I shot him a glare, my gaze cold and unyielding, willing him to relax, but my message was clear: don’t drop your guard beside me. I was angry, and it meant that no one was safe anymore.I turned away, gripping my phone tightly. It creaked under my fingers as the call connected on the second ring.“Beverly Hills Police Department,” came the static-filled voice on the other end. “How may I direct your call?” “There’s been an attempted murder. The victim’s in a hospital—barely alive.”“Your name, sir?” the dispatcher asked almos
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 144: Dontrell’s POV: A Lifelong Pain.
I couldn’t sit. The air in this hospital lobby was suffocating, thick with tension. Each time those damn doors opened, my heart leapt—only to settle when it wasn’t the doctor. Just nurses, passing by with forced smiles like they could pretend everything was fine.Where the hell was the doctor? Eight hours had passed since Allison was rushed in. Eight hours, and still no news.I glanced at Clayton—panic twisted his face, just like mine. His hands were stained with her blood, dried at the cuffs. He sat tense, rubbing his face over and over as if trying to scrub away his anxiety.I shook my head. It wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t stop the rage rising, my breaths growing heavier.My eyes kept darting toward him, recalling how she explained rushing into the restroom when she started bleeding and held her as her body went cold.The seconds before he reached the hospital—her head on his chest, her fingers twitching then stopping. That image burnt into me, searing into my soul. Why wasn’t I
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 143: My Life on the Line.
The sight of Clayton made my blood boil. Yet he stood there, arrogant and unbothered, like a loaded gun, his gaze mockingly daring me to snap.His voice, smooth but cold, cut through the air. “Couldn't pretend to like me even for a moment?”I barely had time to process the bite in his tone before he delivered the real blow.“For the sake of my unborn nephew. My son.”The words hit like a slap. My nails dug into my palms as I fought hard not to react in front of the crowd gathered in the hall, but he knew he was pissing me off, and he was loving it.I met his gaze, my voice sharp. “You don’t have a son here, Clayton. Don’t pretend you’re happy for your brother. We both know you wanted to be first to give your dad a grandchild.”He stepped closer, invading my space, leaning against the counter. “Yeah,” he admitted, his smirk infuriating. “But either way, I’m still glad. This is big news for my family. Aside from having an heir, you just helped us kill the rumours.” He tilted his head, v
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 142: A Toast to Lies.
The grand hall glowed under golden chandeliers, its walls awash in soft pink and blue. Balloon arches swayed near the high ceilings, their colours blending in baby-friendly charm. Floral arrangements lined silk-draped tables, candlelight flickering against crystal glassware.Grilled meats, aged whisky, and cigars laced the air, mingling with laughter and clinking glasses.Dontrell pulled this off in under eight hours, yet nothing felt rushed—only extravagant. He had done the impossible. Business moguls, high-ranking mafia associates—even his impish father, smug and satisfied—were all here. Soft, slow instrumentals hummed in the background.I wasn’t surprised. Dontrell moved mountains when he wanted something, and tonight, he wanted to celebrate me carrying his child.I sat at the left back corner of the hall, away from the crowd. I had been seated at the front with the Blades, but the weight of too many eyes had pressed in on me, making me nauseous.So I slipped away to this quieter s
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 141: Whispers of a Future—His to Protect.
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
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 139: Allison’s POV: an eye for an eye.
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
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