All Chapters of I'm Not Your Property , Don Vincenzo: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

~Vincenzo’s POV~My siblings and I left the club that night, the weight of alcohol and laughter still lingering in the air as we stepped out onto the dimly lit streets. The cool night breeze hit my face, sobering me slightly, but my thoughts were already drifting elsewhere. I didn’t spare another thought for Margot. To me, she was just another fleeting presence, another name that would eventually fade into the background like so many before her. At least, that’s what I thought. But I had underestimated her persistence. Somehow, she managed to get a hold of me. I don’t know if it was through connections or sheer determination, but she kept finding ways to appear in my orbit. At first, it was subtle—casual encounters at restaurants, bars, and events that felt too coincidental to be chance. Then, she became more direct. She approached me, started conversations, and made it painfully clear that she wasn’t just going to disappear like the others. I ignored her at first. I had no pa

*Eight years ago, Italy *The night was thick with smoke and the pungent scent of expensive liquor, the streets alive with neon lights and the heavy bass of rap music vibrating through the air. I stood outside Luciano's Lounge, a notorious club that served as more than just a place for nightlife—it was the beating heart of the Luciano mafia’s operations. This was where I needed to be. I adjusted my coat, straightened my shoulders, and let my heels click sharply against the pavement as I approached the entrance. Two guards stood on either side of the club doors, their postures stiff, hands resting against their holsters. Their sharp eyes took me in—long dark hair, tailored dress, unshaken confidence—and yet, I could already see the sneers forming on their lips. “Would you look at that,” one of them muttered, his voice laced with mockery. “She wants to speak to the boss.” His partner chuckled, folding his arms. I didn’t falter. Instead, I leveled them both with a sharp stare.

~Margot Christopher's POV~"You're the most desperate, pathetic woman I've ever known in my entire life, Margot," Vincenzo spat at me. The words hit like a slap across my face, and I could feel the anger rising in me, but I fought it down. His cold, venomous tone only served to remind me of how deep the wound he left on me had gone. But I wasn’t about to let him see how much it affected me. He chuckled, low and dark, a sound that sent a chill down my spine. "Selling off classified info. That's really low, even for you." His laughter filled the room, and I felt like I was suffocating in it. I’d been the one pulling the strings, controlling everything, but now, sitting here, tied to this chair, it felt like I was the one being played. The anger bubbled inside me, pushing its way through the cracks in my composure. "You know nothing about me," I snapped back at him, my voice fierce. The words were shaky, but I needed him to hear me. I wasn’t the weak woman he wanted me to be. "You'r

~Vincenzo’s pov~The drive back to the safe house was quiet, almost too quiet. Hayden sat beside me, his arms crossed, his gaze locked on the window, watching the darkened streets pass by. He hadn’t spoken a word since we left the hotel, and I wasn’t about to be the first to break the silence.The air between us was charged with something unspoken, a weight neither of us acknowledged. I could still feel the ghost of my fingers on his skin, the way his breath hitched when I had pulled him close. He was getting to me in ways I didn’t like—in ways I didn’t understand.By the time we reached Armano’s safe house, I was grateful for the distraction. As soon as I stepped inside, the men acknowledged my presence with respectful nods."Capo," they greeted, their eyes sharp with anticipation. The safe house was a fortified estate in its own right, tucked away in the outskirts of the city, shielded by thick concrete walls and heavy surveillance. I ignored the pleasantries and went straight t

~Vincenzo’s POV~Dumas was smart. Too smart. He had been lurking within my family’s operation for years, moving in the shadows, hiding behind false identities and misdirection. But the time for his deception had come to an end. His true identity would finally be revealed, and that moment came sooner than expected. The club was dimly lit, the air thick with the remnants of cigar smoke and whiskey. Bodies were scattered throughout, Mateo cleaning up the mess from earlier, Isabel waiting for my next command. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Tony striding toward me, his phone in hand. His face was tense, his usual stoic expression edged with something more urgent. "Boss, it's the Espositos," he said, holding out the phone. The name alone was enough to snap my focus to him completely. I took the device from his outstretched hand, pressing it to my ear. "Talk." My voice was firm, controlled, though the tension in my body told another story. On the other end, Sofia's voice was