All Chapters of The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal.: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Dontrell stood by the home bar, his broad shoulders tense, the shadows playing against his haggard form. His dark, cold eyes burned into me, filled with questions and unspoken anger. His usually pristine appearance was frayed—his shirt hung loose, untucked, and there were faint bruises visible at the edge of his collar. His jaw was shadowed with stubble, and exhaustion clung to him, though it did nothing to dull the dangerous aura he exuded. “Where the hell are you coming from?” he asked, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the silence. I hesitated, forcing my face into a neutral expression as I tried to calm my racing heart. “I was just walking around the compound,” I said, keeping my tone even. His eyes narrowed, and he took a slow sip of his wine, as though deciding whether or not to believe me. “Walking around?” he repeated, his voice laced with suspicion. He set the glass down with a deliberate clink and leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. “You know you’re

I stepped out of the elevator, my eyes immediately locking with Dontrell’s. The way he looked at me made my breath catch—his eyes swept over me, taking in the curves of my body as though he couldn’t quite believe I was really standing there. His gaze lingered for a moment, an intensity in it that I couldn’t quite place. There was something in his look that made me feel like he could take control of the entire world just by willing it. He quickly regained composure, as though lost in thought for a decade. Then, with a slight smile, he beckoned me to join him. “Come to me, darling,” he said, his voice a smooth command that had me moving toward him without thinking twice. I joined him, my heart fluttering in my chest as I walked to where his friends were. Andrew’s eyes locked on me, his grin widening as he sized me up.Dontrell couldn’t help but boast a little, “You see her, right? The most beautiful woman in the room. You’d think she'd be more of a curse, but she’s mine.” His voice wa

My father didn’t flinch, only pressed his lips tight. A sharp exhale followed, frustration clear—as I couldn’t see the logic in his betrayal.“Why are you acting like you don’t get it?" he snapped. "The pressure, the stakes. The Blades aren't just anyone. They demand loyalty. A child would've sealed that. I agreed because it made sense—it’ll strengthen our bond with them. It’s not as monstrous as you think."His words slammed into me like a physical blow. ‘Not as monstrous as I think?’ He was justifying the expectation that I’d produce an heir like some broodmare. Fury swelled in my chest, threatening to explode.And then it did.Without thinking, I closed the distance between us in two strides. My hand rose, and before I could stop myself, a loud slap echoed through the room. The force of it reverberated through my hand. My father’s head snapped to the side, his cheek reddening as he stumbled slightly, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.But then the room shifted. The walls

The incessant beep of the heart monitor was the first thing I noticed. It pierced the thick fog in my mind, pulling me from the abyss. I blinked, slowly opening my eyes, only to shut them again at the bright, harsh white light above me. I couldn’t tell if it was real or a trick of my mind, but it was relentless, like the sterile smell of disinfectant that hung in the air—clean, but far from comforting.I tried again. This time, I kept my eyes open, the white paint of the room filling my vision. The softness of the sheets beneath me. A cold, uncomfortable weight in my head—like a fog I couldn’t push away.Then, the first face came into focus—Dontrell. He stood over me, towering like a shadow, his face a mask of worry and concern. My breath hitched, and I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper."Where... where am I?" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper."Shh..." His hand was warm as it gently cupped mine, rubbing my fingers softly. "You're in the hospital, Dove."He placed a

I swerved into the compound, the hum of my engine echoing through the quiet night. I parked my car, the lights flickering out, and reached under the seat for my gun. I didn’t have time to waste. I stepped out, eyes scanning the area. The guards nodded, keeping their distance.The building above ground was nothing special—a quiet, unremarkable café with vintage décor. But beneath that, hidden away by a locked door and accessed through a narrow staircase, was a whole other world. I made my way downstairs to the cellar, where the low, pulsing beat of music greeted me. The place was a nightclub for criminals—polished obsidian bar, dim lighting, arched brick walls, leather booths for privacy, and a dance floor full of bodies lost in the rhythm. Security screens flashed with live footage of the café upstairs, keeping everything clean. Private rooms were scattered throughout for the high-stakes meetings and deals that went down.I sighted Fang, seated at a leather booth in the far corner. H