All Chapters of Owned By The Mafia Lord: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

MARCO The engine hummed steadily beneath me, but my blood was boiling. My hands tightened around the wheel, jaw clenched as we drove toward the docks. The night outside the window felt too quiet, too still for what had just happened. They stole from me. Again. And this time, they took more than goods. They took a good man’s life. Tony sat beside me, his face illuminated by his phone’s screen, fingers swiping as he tried to make sense of the reports coming in. He was calm—too calm for my liking. How could he be so composed when another one of our shipments had been stolen? And now… someone was dead. A man who had been loyal for years, taken out like he was nothing. It made my blood boil. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Tony, how the hell did this happen?” My voice was low but filled with a fury I couldn’t contain. “Again? First, the shipments, and now they have the guts to kill one of our men?” Tony sighed, his phone lowering to his lap as he glanced at me. “Marco, you need t

MARCODanzo leaned back in my chair, that smug grin still plastered across his face. I tried to tell myself he was just messing with me. Hell, maybe it was some twisted joke, his idea of humor after everything that had gone down tonight. But even I didn’t believe that. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice calm. “Danzo, get your ass up. Now.”He didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. Just stared at me with that infuriating look like he was daring me to do something about it. The tension in the room was thick, my patience thinning with every passing second.I gritted my teeth. “I’m giving you till the count of three to get the fuck out of my seat.” My tone was flat, but the threat was clear.“One…”Still nothing. He just blinked at me, like I wasn’t even worth the effort of a response.“Two…”I felt my hand twitch, the desire to drag him out of that chair growing stronger with each breath. My day had already been shot to hell. First, the lost shipment. Then, one of my best men, Paol

MARCOThe engine went silent as the car came to a halt, and I stepped out, taking in the sight of the venue. It was a wide, open space, not the kind of place you’d expect for a secretive meeting of the city’s top mob bosses. But that was the thing with the Red Table—they always knew how to play things close to the vest. No obvious signs of anything shady going on. Just an innocent-looking building that could have been a high-end restaurant for all anyone outside would know.I glanced over at Tony as he stepped out of the car behind me. His expression was calm, but I knew him well enough to catch the slight tension in his movements. I asked, “Petrov got eyes on the place?”Tony nodded, checking his phone. “Yeah, he’s got the perimeter covered. We’ve got men positioned in case things go sideways.”“Good.” I took a moment to scan the area again, making sure there wasn’t anything out of place. Couldn’t be too careful. These types of meetings, you never knew who was playing what angle.We

SARAHI hesitated at the door to Marco’s office, my hand resting on the cold brass handle. My heart raced with uncertainty. What could have possibly made him yell my name like that? It was so unlike him. I thought of all the possible scenarios, but none of them felt right.I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.There he was, standing by the window, his back to me. The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating. Marco didn’t say anything, didn’t turn around. He just stood there in silence, his posture stiff, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.I stepped into the room, my feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. “Marco?” My voice came out softer than I intended, shaky even. “Why did you call me?”He didn’t answer.I waited a moment, then asked again, a little firmer this time. “Marco, what’s going on?”He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at me over his shoulder. His face was hard, unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark

SARAHI folded the last of the clothes, smoothing out the creases as I placed it neatly on the bed. The room was quiet, too quiet, and I could feel the thoughts creeping in again. No matter how much I tried to keep myself busy, to find something—anything—to focus on, my mind kept circling back to Marco. To everything he had done. To everything he was.I shook my head, mocking myself for even allowing the thought that he might change to settle in my mind. What a joke, I thought bitterly, how stupid was I to believe that there was any chance of him becoming a better person?I couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped my lips. After everything he’d put me through, how could I have been so naive? I had let myself fall into this trap, let myself see something in him that wasn’t there. Maybe it was the few good moments, the small gestures that made me believe for just a second that he might be capable of change. But deep down, I knew better.I should’ve known better.I remembered the beginning,