All Chapters of Bound by His Desire: The Mafia King’s Mistress & Secret Heir: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The rain hammered down on the pavement, a relentless curtain of cold that soaked through Elena Devereaux’s thin coat. She pulled the fabric tighter around herself, her breath visible in the chilly night air as she hurried toward Inferno. The club stood like a beacon of temptation and sin against the darkened street, its glowing red neon sign casting eerie reflections on the wet asphalt.Her heels splashed through puddles as she quickened her pace. She was already late. Draco’s asthma attack had come out of nowhere, forcing her to cradle her son until his small body finally relaxed. The hospital bills were piling up again, and this job was the only thing standing between them and financial ruin.With a deep breath, she pushed open the heavy employee entrance door and stepped inside.Heat and noise swallowed her whole. The air inside was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, alcohol, and desperation. Strobe lights flashed over a writhing crowd of bodies on the dance floor, illumina

The moment Damien disappeared through the door, the air in the private suite seemed to thin.Elena pressed her fingers to her lips, her breath unsteady.What the hell had just happened?Damien was back. Not as the reckless, arrogant young man she once loved, but as someone far more dangerous. Someone who now owned Inferno.She turned toward the glass wall overlooking the club. From here, she could see the main floor—a blur of flashing lights, swaying bodies, and the endless thrum of music.But Damien was nowhere in sight.The memory of his kiss still burned on her lips, and she hated that her body had responded to him so easily. It was reckless. Dangerous.A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.Tony, her manager, poked his head inside, his face pale. “Elena, you should go home. Now.”Something in his tone made her stomach twist.“What’s going on?”He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as if someone might be listening. “Some guys came looking for trouble. Boss is handling

The ballroom pulsed with an underlying tension that had nothing to do with the string quartet playing in the background or the idle chatter of the city’s elite. The golden chandeliers cast their warm glow over a sea of gowns and tuxedos, but to Elena, the beauty of the setting was nothing more than a deceptive illusion. Beneath the glittering façade, danger lurked.She knew it.And so did Damien.His grip on her waist had loosened, his focus shifting as his man leaned in, murmuring something low enough that only he could hear.Elena wasn’t sure what was said, but she saw the shift in him. One moment, Damien was the possessive, controlling man who had been using this night to stake his claim on her; the next, he was something else entirely. The playful arrogance in his eyes vanished, replaced by an icy calculation that sent a chill down her spine.The ruthless mafia king had emerged.Damien released her, his fingers sliding away with deliberate slowness, as if reluctant to let go even

Elena woke to the weight of silence.The space beside her was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.Damien was gone.A part of her felt relief. The other part—a much more frustrating, self-destructive part—felt something closer to disappointment.She sat up slowly, dragging a hand down her face, trying to shake off the exhaustion clinging to her. Last night had been a mistake. A lapse in judgment fueled by adrenaline, frustration, and something deeper she didn’t want to name.And yet… she could still feel him. The heat of his touch, the way his lips had claimed hers with a desperation that should have terrified her.She exhaled sharply and reached for her phone on the nightstand.Her stomach dropped the moment she saw the screen.Eight missed calls. Three unread messages.All from Mrs. Fletcher.Her fingers trembled as she opened them.Mrs. Fletcher: Elena, Draco’s fever hasn’t gone down all night. I gave him medicine, but I’m worried.Mrs. Fletcher: If it doesn’t break soon, I think w

The drive out of London had been a blur of headlights, speeding asphalt, and silence so heavy it was suffocating. The city had faded behind them, replaced by the vast countryside, where the roads wound through dense forests and sprawling estates.Elena had barely spoken since they’d left the penthouse. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms folded, her mind replaying everything that had happened in the last few hours.A sniper.Shattered glass.A name whispered by a dying man—DeLuca.Damien’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white. His entire body radiated tension, a barely restrained fury simmering beneath the surface. He had said little, only the occasional command to Dante or Marco through the earpiece.The safe house loomed ahead, a sprawling estate nestled deep in the countryside. High walls and security cameras lined the perimeter, and armed men stood at the gate, their expressions grim.Elena swallowed hard.This wasn’t protection.It was a prison.As the