Semua Bab I'm Not Your Property , Don Vincenzo: Bab 41 - Bab 50

~Vincenzo’s POV~The casino I just stepped in had the kind of ambiance that swallowed a man whole—dark wood paneling, gold-trimmed chandeliers, and a suffocating sense of wealth and indulgence. Smoke curled lazily through the air as men in tailored suits leaned over poker tables, their conversations hushed but laced with tension. I had been in places like this too many times to count, but tonight, I wasn’t here for cards or money. I was here for answers. Marco had chosen a discreet meeting spot in a private lounge, tucked away from the noise of the main floor. A place where high-stakes players made deals worth millions, but tonight, I was after something far more valuable—information. The moment I stepped inside, I spotted him. Marco hadn’t changed much. His brown hair was a little shorter, his suit a little sharper, but his smirk? That was the same. He sat at a poker table, casually shuffling a deck of cards, a half-empty whiskey glass beside him. “Don Vincenzo De Luca,” he g

~Hayden’s POV~I woke to the soft glow of morning light filtering through the sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the hotel suite. My body was sore in the best way, a lingering reminder of last night—of the power I had seized, the way Vincenzo had unraveled beneath my touch. A smirk tugged at my lips as I stretched, the sheets cool against my skin. But then, something felt…off. The suite was silent. Too silent. I turned my head toward the other side of the bed, expecting to see Vincenzo still asleep or at least stirring, but it was empty. The covers were barely disturbed, as if he hadn’t even spent the night there. A strange unease settled in my stomach as I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Where the hell was he? My first instinct was irritation. Typical Vincenzo—doing whatever the fuck he wanted without so much as a word. But then, annoyance gave way to something sharper. It wasn’t like him to just disappear, not without telling me where he was going. I s

~Vincenzo's POV~ The ice in my glass clinked as I swirled the last of my whiskey, eyes trained on Max from across the bar. He had no idea I was watching, no idea that I had been watching him for a while now. The moment I spotted him sitting alone, his shoulders hunched and his fingers wrapped tightly around his own drink, I knew he was hiding something. A man doesn’t drink like that unless he’s carrying weight—secrets, guilt, fear. I had given him the opportunity to explain himself inside, to answer my questions without force, but Max was proving to be stubborn. When I started applying pressure, he had stiffened, muttered something about needing to leave, and now he was standing from his stool, tossing a few bills onto the counter before turning toward the exit. I let him go. I didn’t move, not immediately. A hunter doesn’t chase his prey the second it bolts—he waits, lets it think it has the advantage, then strikes when the timing is perfect. Lifting my glass, I took the

~Vincenzo’s POV~Max sat slumped in the chair, sweat trickling down his forehead. His wrists were bound tightly, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. He looked exhausted, yet his eyes still carried a glimmer of defiance. I stepped closer, my fingers tightening around the grip of my gun as I pulled it from my holster. Hayden stiffened at the sight of it, but I didn’t acknowledge him. My focus was on Max. “Let’s try this again,” I said smoothly, lifting the gun and pressing the cold barrel against his forehead. “Who do you work for?” Max inhaled sharply, but his gaze remained locked onto mine. “I told you already. I don’t work for anyone.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “And I told you I don’t believe in coincidences.” Hayden took a sharp step forward, placing himself slightly between us, his voice edged with urgency. “Vincenzo, put the gun down.” I didn’t look at him. “I’m going to count to three,” I said evenly, ignoring Hayden’s tension beside me. “If I don’t g

~Hayden’s POV~The suite felt suffocating. I had never noticed how heavy the silence could be, pressing against my chest like an unbearable weight. Every tick of the clock on the wall sent another jolt of anxiety through me, reminding me that time was slipping away, and I still hadn’t figured out what the hell I was supposed to do. Vincenzo was gone. But not for long. And Max? Max was still tied up in the other room, his labored breaths the only sound breaking the suffocating quiet. He hadn’t said anything in the past few minutes, but I knew he was waiting—waiting for me to come to my senses, waiting for me to do something. But what? I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the floor in tight, agitated circles. **Think, think, think.** There was no right choice. No perfect solution. Either way, I was about to betray someone. Vincenzo was convinced Max was working for the rival faction. And when Vincenzo had a theory, nothing short of undeniable proof would shake it. He was a