Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed By The Mafia Billionaire : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

"Do you always have to be so damn cold?" My voice cracked through the stillness of the room, sharp and deliberate. I knew the words were risky, but after everything—being dragged into this mansion, caged like an animal, forced into submission—I couldn’t hold them back any longer. Alexander's wide shoulders tensed as though my words had struck him in the middle of his stride. His icy-blue eyes met mine as he slowly turned to face me. Only the uncompromising steel that had frightened me from the first time I had seen him was present; there was no warmth.. "And do you always have to be so reckless, Dysis?" His voice was calm, low, but laced with a warning I knew better than to ignore. I didn’t back down. Not this time. "Reckless? You think standing up for myself is reckless? Newsflash, Alexander, I’m not some puppet you can dangle on strings." He tilted his head, the faintest trace of amusement—or maybe irritation—dancing in his expression. "No, you’re not a puppet. You’re a stor

The mansion was peculiarly quiet, except for the sporadic noise of footsteps reverberating through the corridors. I paced back and forth in the opulent room they had provided me, my mind swirling with numerous ideas. Max Carter. Alexander. The delicate, perilous realm I currently lived in. How did I find myself in this situation? Was there any way out of the turmoil that had engulfed me entirely? As I looked out the window, a loud, sudden crash echoed from the hallway outside my door. My heart fluttered within my chest. The quietness that previously felt so stifling now appeared as a ticking time bomb. There was something off. I sensed it in the atmosphere. I naturally edged toward the door, my heartbeat increasing. A wave of panic tightened around my chest. Living in a perpetual state of fear of uncertainty was one matter; experiencing that fear approach ever so slowly, akin to a stalking predator, was quite another. I grabbed the handle, but just as I was about to twist it, the d

I was about to leave the hidden room, questions swirling in my mind, when a knock interrupted the silence. John, Alexander’s ever-loyal bodyguard, stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable."Sir, an invitation from Nathaniel York," he announced, his tone steady.At the mention of Nathaniel’s name, Alexander’s features hardened, his icy exterior returning instantly. Whatever vulnerability I thought I’d seen vanished as he muttered, "I’ll handle it." John hesitated. "Max Carter might be there too."Alexander’s jaw tightened. The air between them grew heavier before John retreated, leaving us alone once more. Once the door clicked shut, Alexander’s focus shifted back to me, his gaze cold and unyielding. The crack I’d briefly witnessed in his armor was gone, replaced by the impenetrable wall that defined him. His voice, sharp as ever, sliced through the quiet. “Get out of this room. Now.”I stayed still, caught between the man who had hinted at something greater and the ruthless l

I wanted to speak, but the words were caught in my throat. The environment beyond the vehicle seemed far away, as if I were caught between what I ought to oppose and what I couldn't help desiring. His hand gently touched my cheek, clearing away my tears. “Dysis,” he murmured, disappointment threading through his tone. "What if I die?" I inquired, my voice quaking yet resolute. “Would it be important to you?” He didn’t respond right away. He glanced at the rearview mirror, the burden of unsaid thoughts shadowing his features. The vehicle halted before the Levi mansion, its shadowy form resembling a guardian in the darkness. Before I could react, Alexander was out, opening my door. His hand closed around mine, firm and unrelenting, as he led me toward the entrance in silence, his grip tightening with each step.I didn’t draw back. Not because I lacked desire, but because I was unsure of what other actions to take. Inside, the home was tranquil, the sound of our steps resonating t

The mansion was both a prison and a sanctuary, and it felt like both. Each room I passed felt like it was trapping me in its opulent walls, and yet I couldn’t deny that there was a strange comfort in the routine it provided. The days were no longer marked by the frantic uncertainty I had known all my life—days spent running from one bad situation to the next—but they were still far from peaceful. I was discovering how to breathe inside these confines, even though it seemed like I had to struggle for every breath, every step. Gradually, the external world began to disappear, and I felt ensnared in a web of influence, affluence, and dominance that I couldn’t break free from, regardless of how hard I attempted. The mornings were consistently similar: the sun sneaking through the thick curtains, throwing golden rays onto the ground. I stirred in a space that seemed excessively silent, excessively vacant. I would lie still for a moment, listening for any sign of life outside my door—fo