Semua Bab The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal.: Bab 91 - Bab 100

The words were soft, hesitant, but they detonated inside my skull like a damn bomb. My whole body tensed beneath her, the warmth between us turning razor-sharp. Love. That word didn’t belong in my world—it didn’t belong in my chest or bloodstream. But she had just dropped it between us like it was something simple, something light.I went still. My fingers, which had been lazily tracing her back, froze against her spine."Go ahead, lie to me. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll pretend to believe it." She blurted out. She wasn’t letting me escape this."You’ve slit throats and spilt blood for me. Don’t insult me by pretending it wasn’t love." Her eyes searched mine.I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. I had waited so damn long to hear those words, but now that I had, they felt foreign. Like something I wasn’t meant to have. My father, and everyone who knew the truth of our marriage, had sworn that her loving me was impossible. Which woman on earth would love a man whose father had kidnapped h

I gripped a bottle of Romanée-Conti 1945, my fingers tightening on it. I admired the way the bottle's curves fit comfortably in my palm and its vintage design. The scent of aged oak and bourbon mixed with the chill air of the wine cellar. Indecision gnawed at me as I wondered if I should take this vintage wine or if a bottle of whisky would do for him. Almost immediately, I heard his footsteps even before the door opened. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. I recognised him by the rhythm of his walk and the unmistakable scent of his cologne—Shia. “Has it come to this?” Andrew's voice cut through the air, the bitterness sharp. He leaned against the door frame, his arms and legs crossed; he watched me as if I were something to dissect, something difficult to understand.I didn’t turn to face him as I responded but I dropped the bottle of wine into my wooden basket gently alongside the other items in it. “Come to what, Andrew?” My voice barely carried, almost lost in the cavernous

"Didn’t anyone teach you to knock? Or to read a fucking sign? This office was out of bounds, even for you.”Mr. Blade’s voice snapped through the air like a whip, but I barely heard him. My mind was still trying to process the filth in front of me. Because it wasn’t some nightmare I could wake up from. It was real.Celine. Sprawled across Dontrell’s desk. Her legs spread wide, her body on full display. She moaned like a cheap whore, her voice filthy, breathless—obscene.Beside her, Damien—one of Clayton’s security guards—stood, his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself as he watched, waiting for his turn. The scent of sweat, sex, and sin thickened the air, making my stomach churn.The four other men—naked—had already finished on her. Their filth still glistened on her body, their tip and floor filled with cum.She turned her head, eyes half-lidded with lust as Damien plunged a vibrator into her. “Are you going to join the fun or stay away?” she asked me. Her body twitched in p

The house was too quiet as I sat.Andrew had told me he would check the docks for Dontrell. I begged him not to start a fight, and he promised he wouldn’t. But now, sitting alone at home, I couldn’t help but wonder—what had they discussed? Was Dontrell really the one with the shoe? If he told Andrew the truth, would Andrew tell me?I think he would. Andrew needs me to leave, Dontrell. But the fact that he still defended Dontrell—insisting he’d never be involved with a woman like Celine—showed just how loyal he was to Dontrell before I came into the picture.Later that evening…I sat in front of my dresser, a hairdryer in hand, wearing nothing but a silk robe. My wet hair clung to my shoulders as I ran my fingers and the dryer through it. The shower had washed away the crime, but not the betrayal. That would never fade.Suddenly—I heard a slam!Someone was stomping their feet continuously outside the room. It made my pulse spike as the heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway.But I d

I looked up, my eyes burning, my mind struggling to believe him. "Stop lying," I yelled. "I'm not lying," he said, his voice lower now, almost tired. "Celine and I were over long before you came into the picture. She meant nothing to me. Just a desperate face chasing power. She thought dating me would secure her place in the mafia, but when she realised I had no interest in being the Godfather, she used her body to climb the ranks. That’s all she ever did."I swallowed hard. "Then why does she still act like she owns you?" His lips pressed into a hard line. "Because she doesn’t know how to let go." I searched his face. "So what was that scene in your office?" His expression darkened. "That wasn’t about me. Someone paid for it." A chill ran down my spine, his confession hitting me like a stone. "What?" "My father." His voice was cold. "He arranged it." I sucked in a breath. "Why?" Dontrell let out a bitter laugh. "Because that’s what he does. He turns everything into a business