Home / Mafia / His To Claim: The Mafia's Possession / Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

All Chapters of His To Claim: The Mafia's Possession : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

137 Chapters

121. Dawn.

>>>Who is my father?>>>>I still my movements, my blood surging in force through my veins. My heart tap-dancing in my chest. My eyes begin to water, the tears dropping down my cheeks to splash on my chest. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. I shake my head again…and again and again to ensure this isn’t a figment of my imagination but it’s not…I mean the image I thought my mind conjured is real. It’s hovering above me. Steely hands grasping my hands above my head and over my mouth. My God, what the heck is happening? Oh…no this has to be fake.He…can’t be here. Not at all. Not after disappearing for over a month and a week. Leaving me shattered, broken, and in tears. “Dima?” My inflection is racked by sobs. Angry sobs. God. Dima is here, above me. Boring raging midnight eyes into mine. I twitch my hands in the steel grip of his, wanting to be free so I can touch, feel, and know truly that he is here with me. I twitch but he didn’t let me free easily. In fact, I
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122. Dima.

>>>Beginning of her punishment.>>>>>My legs are frantic, pacing the length of her room. Dawn. She’s messing with my head. Her wails almost tore through the walls I built around my chest over the past one month I spent in Colombia. All the while I was raging, blaming myself because I fell for someone I’m supposed to kill. Someone I’m supposed to punish. No.I shouldn’t feel even an atom of pity for her. Her father never felt it when he hurt my mother. The only woman that I loved. The only woman that would do anything for me. So why did I stop when she cried out? I wanted nothing but to vent on her body. To fuck her into borders of pains and batter her lips her father fucking did to my mother. But something pulled me back. Why? Is fate messing with me? Why Dawn….Nastja Vladimirovna of all women? Fuck. Fucking fuck. I run my hands through my hair. Considering my options. It’s either I shoot her to finish this once and for all. To rip her skin from her head….or.
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123. Dawn.

>>>Captive in the house of the man I love.>>>The more the tires of this car I’m in roll deeper into what I presume to be Moscow, the more the back of my eyes burn with tears. I want to think this is a figment of my imagination but no, it’s a reality. This…reality hurts. It clenches my heart like a vise, making my lungs constrict and I'm…unable to breathe. · “ To make you pay for your father’s sins.”* His last words wash over me, my body jerks in fear, and bile rises in my throat. He drugged me. Kidnapped me all the way from America to lock me up here. To make me pay for my father’s sins. I can’t believe this is happening. I knew Dima as a lethal man, dangerous from all around but never to me. My mind chooses this period to remind me of how I fell in love with him. His promises. How he fought to protect me. But now, I’m nothing but his enemy’s daughter. The descendant of the very man he swore to kill. Can it get any worse than it already is? I take a swipe a
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124. Dawn.

>>>>Too late.>>>>>Hours have passed yet no one has come for me. My mind rattles as rage ripples through me. My head pounds, and my eyes burn with fresh tears. I’m a captive. I’m a prisoner.I’m a tool for revenge. The words like a church bell rings on repeat in my head. I don’t stop crying even when I know all the strength in me has bled away. I cry, pounding my balled fists on the bed. Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Instinctively, I remember my childhood days. Those days the man I thought was my father hated the hell out of me. This is exactly the kind of hatred Dima has for me now. What was the literal crime of the man I call father? How did he incur Dima’s rage right from his teenage years? I don’t get this. I need my memories back. I need to hear the truth…feel the truth. God! I feel like I’m growing demented. Mad. Like…I can’t think straight because the voices in my head are too much. The force with which I force my mind to remember things from m
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125. Dima.

>>>You're pregnant. >>>>>I hold Dawn with all my strength, my lips move, words falling from it in waves. I can’t believe what just happened. Dawn had stabbed herself. Hell, this isn’t what I bargained for. I heard her going wild all through the afternoon and I couldn’t take it. Our moments together assailed my mind and wanting to shut it off and gather my bearings I left the house. I didn’t know her raging got to the extent that she'd harm herself. My heart constricts as I take in the bandage in her hand. No one told me about her wound. No one fucking told me! I battle my demons and I battle my love for her. God, I don’t fucking know what to do with Dawn again. I’m torn between fulfilling my revenge or keeping Dawn. Fate is playing a cruel joke on me. A big cruel joke, I can’t take it. The moment she walked into the dining and ours met, I saw nothing but hatred swimming in her depths. She hates me now. Who wouldn’t? After being taken away without her consent and
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126. Dima.

>>>Hating the wrong man for years.>>>I stand a few feet away from my boys and Stalin in the open field we use for training our new recruits.The number of boys we recruited this season is almost three hundred in number and Stalin is doing a good job in organizing training sessions for them.I woke up early this morning and rushed into this field where I did my morning exercise with Leonid and Akim. We sparred, ran, and did some serious push-ups. I need the adrenaline that comes with them to evade the thoughts Dawn’s words evokes in me since last night.I was unable to sleep the moment those words sleep from her mouth last night with tears raining down her cheeks I felt my world crumble. The blood ceases to rush through my veins. I couldn’t believe she said those words to me despite knowing how much I’ve always wanted a child with her.In front of Dawn, a tear ran down my cheeks. I gnawed my lips to keep from speaking further. I was hurt. I’m still hurt. Nothing makes any
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127. Dawn.

>>>I'll do anything for my baby.>>>“Hmmm….” I pause in the middle of the grand staircase of Dima’s house and inhale the delicious tang of Russian dish emerging from the kitchen downstairs. Damn, that smells so incredible. I must admit one thing, Dima’s cook is one hell of a badass. The man has exceptional culinary skills that I’ve never experienced. Granted, Alina our chief chef back at Mari Vanna cooks wonderfully but Obenko’s skills top hers. I’ve asked the man where he learned such a skill from and he told me that was when he served in Spetsnaz as their special cook. I was in awe when he muttered those words with confidence. Working as Spetsnaz special cook must have really paid well. Though, when those forces were dissolved years back, he said he sought after another paying job until he met Dima the day Dima rescued his daughter from hands of rapists. I cringed at that moment when he said those words. I asked his daughter’s age and to my greatest shock, the gir
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128. Dawn.

>>>>He plans to break me.>>>>The moment I run into the room, I shut the door and flush my back against it, my heart thundering against my chest. I motion my right hand behind me, searching for the lock and I close the door with the key.I can’t believe what I just did. I can’t believe I slapped Dima. Hell, he’s going to kill me. Oh God. Oh God. My death is near I can smell it and taste it on the tip of my tongue. Dima won’t let this slide at all. Worst yet, I slapped him in front of his friend, Stalin. The punishment for this is death because no one ever raises their hands on a Pakhan. I blink back the tears occupying the crook of my eyes and make my way towards the bed. I plunk on it with a light thump and gaze at the ceiling, my thoughts running wild. I can’t stay her much longer. The more I stay here I’ll lose my sanity. I can’t risk it. Instantly, tears slip from my eyes. No matter how much I try to hold it back it can’t stay at bay. The man I just hit…is the s
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129. Dima.

>>>>An Email.>>>>I pin my back to the door immediately I exit my room…Dawn’s room. My heart rolls with bitterness against my chest. She hates me. When I kissed her I felt her hunger for me. For my touch but something made her remember just the amount of hatred she has for me. It breaks me to know I’m the reason for this severed ties between us. I am the fucking reason. But should I fault myself? I can’t fault myself at all. All my life I’m wired to hate one man and that is Vladimir and by extension, his household. So, the rage I felt when I found out the mark that signifies Dawn as his printsessa can’t be vaporized. I almost acted on impulse at the hospital that night. Hell, I almost shot her. Had it been I wasn’t on the run, in my hands would her blood swim. But if I had killed her I’d have killed my child too…something that I’ve desired to have all my life. I want to have a baby with Dawn and now she’s pregnant, only I can’t get close to her because she hates
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130. Dawn.

>>>>>Ticket to freedom.>>>>>The soft knock on the door has me stirring from my sleep. I’m not able to concede the person’s visit as the door flutters open and three of Dima’s servants strut into the room bearing a dresser. I scrunch my nose knowing what the cloth they are herding into the room is for. For the past two days, I have been fitting into different dress for the so-called golden mask festival. Fucking don’t see the need for that. Dima alongside Yulia had called on the best fashion designer they have here in Russia and about three of these people brought the best of their dresses, forcing me to wear them to see the one that would suit the occasion but in the end, Dima would end up disliking it. Just yesterday, the last of the fashion designer came and took my measurements, promising to make a unique dress for me that'll suit the occasion. That should be the dress the servants are wheeling into the room. And for them to bring it here, it only means Dima approves
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