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Chapter 30 (SSPG)
Last Updated:
2025-03-25 18:07:56
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The Possessive Mafia King (English) Chapter 31
I woke up late the next morning, my entire body aching from exhaustion. Every muscle felt sore, a lingering reminder of the night before. The space beside me was empty. The scent of something warm and savory drifted through the air, wrapping around me like an invisible pull. The unmistakable aroma of breakfast filled the room, confirming that Demetri was already up and in the kitchen. As my senses slowly adjusted to the morning, memories of last night came flooding back, how he had barely given me time to catch my breath between our heated moments, how he pushed me past my limits until my body collapsed. My cheeks warmed at the thought, embarrassment creeping in, but I quickly shook it off. I refused to dwell on it too much. With a deep breath, I reached for one of Demetri’s oversized white shirts draped over the chair nearby. The fabric was soft, slightly worn, and carried his scent. I slipped it on, not bothering with pants, just my underwear beneath it. The hem of the shirt bare
Last Updated : 2025-03-25The Possessive Mafia King (English) Chapter 32
**Demetri's POV** I noticed the faint bruises on her neck, the evidence of the passion we had shared the night before. My marks on her skin, were a silent claim, a reminder of how deeply I had lost myself in her. "Give me a kiss, baby," I murmured. She turned her head, pressing a soft, quick kiss to my lips while I still held her hair. Not satisfied, I leaned in again, kissing her slowly—gentle, lingering. This time, it wasn’t just about desire. It was something more. Something deeper. I pulled away from our kiss because if we continued, we would end up skipping breakfast, I might lose control, and we end up in bed again. After tying her hair up, I turned her to face me, brushing back the strands that framed her face. Her bangs, slightly curled, fell back into place, and I carefully ran my fingers through them. She looked at me, her eyes wide with curiosity and disbelief, like she didn’t know what to think. I realized then, maybe she had never been treated like this b
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**Snow's POV** "Wake up," I whispered. While wrapped in Demetri’s warmth, I studied his face, the sharp angles of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows, and the slight curl of his lips, like he knew I was watching. He looked peaceful, softer than the man I was still trying to figure out. He didn’t move. I smiled a little and ran my fingertip down the bridge of his nose before pressing a kiss to his chin. Still nothing. But I saw the small twitch at the corner of his mouth. So, he was pretending asleep. A strange feeling twisted in my chest. This should feel wrong, shouldn’t it? But instead, it felt... natural. Maybe too natural. Pushing the thought away, I leaned in, trailing my lips along his jaw before flicking my tongue against his ear. That did it. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as his arms tightened around me, pulling me close. His touch was firm but unhurried, his fingers slipping into my hair, twisting the strands between them. One eye cracked open, he was s
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"You mentioned last night that you wanted to visit your mother and sister," Demetri said, setting his coffee down. "I hired bodyguards to watch over you in case reporters or paparazzi show up." I frowned, my fingers tightening around my cup. "I’m not famous like Feurene." Demetri’s expression didn’t change. "You are famous now." A dry, humorless laugh escaped me. "You mean infamous." I slumped against the couch, shaking my head as the weight of everything came crashing down on me. My name wasn’t just on people’s lips, it was being dragged through the mud, torn apart by strangers who had no idea who I really was. "I never wanted this," I whispered, my voice cracking under the pressure building inside me. "I never wanted to be scandalized. My God, I can’t stand that word being associated with my name." I clenched my jaw, staring at my coffee as if the dark liquid held answers. How did it come to this? All because of one stupid photo and short video—the moment where I let
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“I’m heading out now, darling.” Demetri’s deep voice broke the silence, but I barely noticed. My eyes stayed on the television screen, though I wasn’t really watching. My mind was somewhere else, lost in my thoughts. I heard him sigh as he stepped closer. “Don’t even think about watching the news. You might see something you don’t like.” His words pulled me out of my daze. I turned my head slightly and met his gaze. His face was calm and unreadable, but I knew him well. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, even if he didn’t say it out loud. I forced a smile. “Take care.” Demetri hesitated for a second like he wanted to say more. But instead, he gave me a slow nod and walked out of the penthouse. The door clicked shut behind him. Almost right away, two men in black suits entered—Marshall and Oscar, my bodyguards. They stood by the entrance, straight and stiff, their faces blank. I let out a sharp breath and turned to look at them. “Aren’t you going to sit?” Marshall, the
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Trigger Warning: Torture and Killing **Demetri's POV** "P-Please, spare my life…" The man’s voice trembled as he pleaded, his bloodied lips barely able to form the words. His body was broken, beaten to the point of near paralysis. He crawled toward me, dragging his shattered limbs across the cold floor, leaving behind a dark smear of blood. I sat comfortably in the swivel chair, exhaling a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke as I watched him struggle. Pitiful. I had let my men break him apart, bone by bone, yet the bastard still had the nerve to beg. This filth, one of the scumbags who led an army of keyboard trolls, hired lowlifes to destroy reputations for a quick payout. He never cared whose life he ruined, whether it was a politician or a celebrity, as long as he got paid. But this time, he crossed the line. He dared to come for my wife. I caught them red-handed, fabricating yet another malicious scandal against her. The mere memory of it made my grip on the cigarette
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**Snow's POV** Icelia gently placed the cookies my mother had baked on the table. As she settled into her seat, I took a deep breath and began explaining, or at least, explaining what they needed to hear. I told them my side of the story, why I never showed up on my wedding day. Of course, I didn’t tell them the whole truth. I didn’t tell them that I was already married to Demetri. My mother’s sharp eyes bore into me, her expression unreadable. "Where did you really go, Snow?" she asked, her voice calm but laced with suspicion. "Just to a friend’s place," I replied calmly, showing no emotion. Ice, my younger sister, frowned as she crossed her arms. "Which friend?" she challenged. "Other than Feurene, I don’t remember you having anyone else." Hearing her name made me feel sick. Feurene. I used to believe she was my friend. I trusted her. I let my guard down around her. But in the end, she had never truly seen me as a friend. She had only been pretending. She had always
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I massage my temple. This was exactly what I didn’t want to hear. All my endorsement projects had been canceled. My sister and mother knew about it before I did. I had been avoiding social media to lessen my stress, but it didn’t help... I was still overwhelmed. "Why don’t you just work at Sazte?" Ice’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "I’ll talk to Kuya Demetri. Maybe he can help." I looked at my younger sister. Right. I still had an option... my husband. But I didn’t want to rely on him. Still, it seemed like I had no choice. I couldn’t afford to disappear. I couldn’t let everything slip away. Not when my mother and sister were depending on me. I took a slow, deep breath. "I need to go," I said. I pushed back my chair, grabbed my coat, and stood up. After a quick goodbye to them, I turned away. No more self-pity. No more weakness (but I am a weak person, a soft-hearted one). How can I fight Feurene and get my revenge on her? As I stepped into the lobby, my two bodygua
Last Updated : 2025-03-27
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The next morning, Snow woke up to bright sunlight filling the room. It was so strong that it hurt her eyes, and she could barely open them. Her head ached with a dull pain, and when she sat up, she let out a small groan because the pain was too much. She rubbed her forehead, hoping to make it feel better. Then she noticed a man sitting nearby, reading. He wore glasses and was focused on the paper in his hands, not noticing that she was looking at him. Her jaw dropped when she fully recognized him. Fúck… he was drop-dead gorgeous. He looked incredibly handsome in those glasses. It was the first time she had seen him like that. As he turned to look at her with those intense, charming eyes, she couldn’t help but swallow nervously. Demetri was right there, sitting a bit away in front of her. He’d fúcking arrived. She’d thought he was still in Italy, and for a fleeting moment, she’d believed the steamy, filthy fúck-fest from last night was just a dream but it was real. She’d thought it w
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Snow impulsively grabbed his bulging cóck, eliciting a low groan from him. Her lips parted as he yanked down his underwear himself, his massive díck springing free. She gripped it, marveling at its thick girth. Fúck, it was huge, mind-blowingly so. This guy’s côck matched her husband’s girth and length perfectly. He stepped closer, his hand tilting her jaw. “Open your mouth wide and suck my díck, honey…” he commanded. She’d tried it with Demetri before, but she knew he thought she sucked at blówjobs. She wasn’t good at it, but fúck it, she wanted to try again. She grabbed his hardened cóck again, licking the tip with slow, teasing flicks. He groaned softly, his hips twitching at her touch. He fúcking loved it. Of course, Demetri loved it. Snow’s warm mouth was heaven, even if she wasn’t a pro at sucking díck. The heat of her lips, stroking and licking his tip with her soft warm tongue, sent him soaring to ecstasy. Snow picked up the pace, struggling with his sheer size, her ey
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Demetri turned sharply toward his wife. She was still lying in bed, barely moving. The effects of the drug were clearly not yet wearing off. If anything, her body heat seemed to be rising even more. She was visibly uncomfortable. And unless someone did something about it, that drug’s effect wouldn’t fade on its own. “I... n-need water...” Snow whimpered weakly. With an irritated sigh, Demetri released Marcus and stood up. Just as he stepped toward the bed to check on her, Marcus suddenly kicked him hard behind the knees. Demetri dropped to the floor in pain, clutching his leg where the impact landed. Marcus didn’t stop there. He delivered several sharp kicks to Demetri’s torso. But Demetri caught the last one, twisted Marcus’s leg, and tugged him down. Marcus crashed to the floor. Now both of them were on the ground, bruised and breathless but neither willing to surrender. “P-Please... I need s-some water...” Snow pleaded again from the bed. “What the hell happened to her?!” Deme
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"Welcome back to the Philippines, sir," Tiara greeted him just like always. One of his staff is always present. Every time Demetri returned home, Tiara was the one waiting. But despite the years they'd worked together, he had never once seen her smile. Never heard her laugh."How's Italy, sir?" she asked in her usual serious tone."Boring..." Demetri muttered as he walked toward the car waiting to take him to the penthouse. He was supposed to stay in Italy for two weeks, but he’d cut the trip short. He wasn’t the same Demetri who once indulged in the charm of Italian women. The one who used to fly there just to play with fire. Now, only one woman occupied his thoughts—his wife, Snow, whom he missed more than he could admit.The longing had become unbearable, so he came home.But it wasn’t just longing that brought him back, it was the frustration too. Snow had barely been answering his calls or replying to his messages. So he decided to surprise her."Let’s stop by a flower shop. I w
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Marcus pulled away. He ended the kiss even though it was obvious he didn’t want to. His hands lingered, his breath shaky, and his eyes? Full of frustration, longing, and a quiet disappointment. But he still gently pushed her back, like it physically hurt him to let go. He opened the car door, holding himself together, even if the storm inside him was obvious. Outside, Snow bodyguards, Oscar and Marshall waited, pretending they hadn’t just watched everything. “Let’s go,” Marcus said softly. She glared at him. “You need some rest,” he added, reaching out for her wrist. She jerked her arm away before he could touch her, her frustration rising like a tide. Rest? Was he serious? The only thing she wanted right now… was him. Still, he helped her out of the car. Attentive, annoyingly so. When she tripped slightly, he caught her fast and steady. Her arms wrapped around his neck before she even realized it. And she didn’t let go. In fact... she held on tighter. Maybe that was her mist
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**Third Person POV** Snow heard Demetria call out Marcus’s name. He immediately turned and rushed toward them. Snow gripped Demetria’s arm tightly, her strength slipping away as she fought against the blurring in her vision. Through the haze, she could still make out Marcus’s face, his features etched with deep worry as he took in her condition. “What do we do? Should we take her to the hospital?” Marcus asked, his voice strained with panic. Snow raised her hand to stop him. She motioned no, already knowing exactly what he was thinking. A hospital was always his first response whenever she felt unwell. It was just his nature... so caring, thoughtful, overly protective even. That was part of what made her fall for him. She still remembered back in junior high, burning up with a high fever but forcing herself to show up for an important exam. She could barely focus but didn’t want to miss it. Then, out of nowhere, Marcus, already a senior high student at the time, stormed into her c
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I’d been drowning in events these past few days, press conferences, interviews, and non-stop photo ops. It was exhausting. Every single one of them sapped a bit more of my energy like I was performing on autopilot. Thankfully, a short break was just around the corner. Tonight, I had something to look forward to. Hugo, my manager, invited me and Demetria to his birthday celebration at an exclusive night bar. I didn’t even hesitate to say yes. I’d been stuck alone in the penthouse almost every night, slowly being driven mad by the silence and the isolation. I needed this. A night out. A little taste of freedom while Demetri was still out of the country. I already knew he would never allow me to attend a party like this without him around. Oscar and Marshall didn’t put up a fight either. It helped that Demetria had already volunteered to explain everything to her oh-so-controlling brother. I turned my head toward the entrance and frowned slightly as more people poured in. The intima
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I sat there, blankly staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror, completely out of it. My phone buzzed again, Demetri was calling, for the third time this morning. I didn’t answer. Instead, I picked up my brush and began combing my hair. I had a press conference to attend later with the other Sandstorm talents, and just the thought of the questions the media might throw at me was already enough to rattle my nerves. I closed my eyes for a moment. Once again, my mind drifted back to that simple dream Marcus and I used to share... having a happy, big family. Seven kids. Crazy, right? On our fifth anniversary as a couple, he took me to this wide, open field full of sunflowers. We had a picnic there, and that’s where the talk about having a family began. Between the two of us, Marcus had always been the more excited one about having children. I could still feel the warmth of his smile as he spoke about our future, lying beside me under a bright, cloudless sky. It hurts—God, it still
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When we finally arrived at the Sylvestre mansion, I immediately called Manang Lucelle and asked her to meet us outside the gate. She came out quickly, and the moment she saw my two bodyguards helping Marcus stand, she opened the gate for us. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to bring him here,” she said, her voice soft but with a hint of disapproval. “You could’ve just called and had Don Demetrius’s driver pick him up.” “It’s too far,” I answered, meeting her eyes. “I didn’t want to risk any delay.” She gave me a small, knowing smile, then nodded politely. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked me. I shook my head in response, a small, silent gesture. “I’ll just wait here,” I said quietly. She didn’t say anything after that. She simply turned around and walked away, leaving me there alone. I stayed in the backseat, my hands resting quietly on my lap while I waited for Oscar and Marshall to come back. The mansion stood silently in front of us. Just as my eyes drifted toward t
