All Chapters of The Mafia's Lycan Slave: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Once we’re far from the abandoned junk shop, I park my car in a place where not so many people are passing by. There’s a gasoline station and a convenience store nearby, but the area seems secluded, which is perfect for my liking. Using the first aid kit that I have in the compartment of my car, I transfer to the backseat and start curing Mackenzie’s wounds. The instant her bloody body turns up in my vision again, my heart contracts and beats slow and weak. D.amn! I won’t forgive myself if something bad happens to Mackenzie! Just like with Dahlia, I was late taking the appropriate actions again! If I had moved a little faster, then she wouldn’t end up like this! With my trembling and blood-stained hands I soak the cotton ball with an ample amount of disinfectant, then carefully rub it on the nasty gashes on Mackenzie’s chest area. I almost don’t wanna look at her, but I have to so I know where to heal her. Her body and her closed eyelids jerk a little and a painful moan escap

Warmth pumps up on my cheeks and neck while I stare at my engagement ring and whisper inwardly ‘I’ll soon become Mrs. Ocampo’. I have had a ruined wedding before, so there are some jitters in my stomach at the thought of wearing a new wedding dress while walking down the aisle again. What makes the jitters go wilder is the fact that Mr. Alessandro will be, in no doubt, against our wedding. But, being that the case, my exuberance and excitement about our wedding can’t be eclipsed by any form of possible setbacks. I can feel it. I can sense it. And I’m manifesting it. My wedding with Davide will happen in the most amazing way it can. When my happy thoughts get tired of gripping me, I head towards the kitchen downstairs to make a great impression on Davide as his future wife. I know how to cook simple and rustic food, but for today's lunch, I wanna prepare something special. Luckily, there’s a rack of culinary magazines at the kitchen counter that can guide me. So, I grab one and che

DAVIDE’S POV: It pains me to doubt the baby in Mackenzie’s womb. I love her. I wanna be with her. I wanna have my own family with her, to have my own children with her. But, it’s only been almost two weeks since we’ve met and her explanation about this one-day pregnancy result thing is mind-boggling. Besides that, she had an ex-fiancé, who’s possibly the father of her child. I sink my elbows on my legs as I brush my hair to the back of my head with my hands. I then clutch my hair at the nape of my neck while dipping my head down low. I shouldn’t be questioning Mackenzie’s situation when I’m not really that knowledgeable about lycan’s body. Apart from that, she’s pregnant and she doesn’t need all this stress. I gotta do something to fix what I’ve broken somehow. I take off my phone from my pocket and dial Sebastian’s number.After a few rings, he picks up my call. [“Hey! What’s up, Mr. Ocampo? Anything else aside from a doctor and a chef?”] “Yes, I need you to send me a bouquet

I turn my gaze to my laptop’s screen and say, ‘We’ll talk again’, before turning it off. I then return my attention to Rogelio and motion for him to continue. “Boss Gabrielle has successfully tracked Boss Davide’s phone call history using a special software he installed in his laptop. Though the software can’t let us hear the actual phone calls he had, it can let us identify who he’s calling and who’s calling him. And there’s only one phone number that he’s contacted in the last few days. Upon verifying our gang’s contact lists, that phone number belongs to Sebastian Madrid.” “Sebastian Madrid,” I repeat under my nose while stretching a smirk on my face. I slouch my back back on my chair, then add, “Prepare around twenty men and twenty more backups. Tonight, we’ll make a surprise visit at Sebastian's hidey-hole.”“Yes, Boss Alessandro,” Roger says.All the wicked things I can do to that man are spiraling inside my now quite relaxed mind. I wonder what would be the best death for h

I tuck four pistols in my holsters that are hung around my waist, then I dangle a rifle across my chest and aim it in front of me. Each muscle of mine is tensed up. They’re heated up, producing sweat to smear my skin. My sight is laser focus towards the stairs that lead to the door - the only way in and way out of this basement. Every step I take closer to that stairs makes my heart more ill at ease. But even if my heart bursts in anxiety, I have no other choice but to keep prowling, waiting for my enemies, who were once my associates, to make the fatal move. I stop and stay low beside the stairs. For a good amount of time, there’s nothing so far but the same ceaseless explosions of bullets from somewhere outside my mansion. I’m glad that my mansion’s walls and glasses are bullet-proof, which will make my enemies not only lose patience and precious time, but lose hundreds if not thousands of bullets. By the time they’re here, I’ll have the advantage. I glance at Mackenzie, who’s s