Semua Bab Beneath The Mask: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Prince POVI meet his gaze, my jaw tightening as I curl my fingers into fists, the chains digging into my skin. My body trembles, but not from fear. Not from dread.From the sheer force of my fury.If he thinks he can break me, he’s fucking wrong. If he thinks I’ll let him do this. He’s about to learn exactly what the fuck I’m capable of.My father watches me like a predator circling wounded prey. He’s waiting for me to break, to shatter, to beg. But he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.I keep my breath steady, biting down the pain radiating through my ribs. He cracked something—I can feel it, the sharp stabbing with every inhale. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing.He tilts his head, considering, the corner of his mouth curling in disgust.“You really think you can fight this, Prince? Fight me?” His voice is low, mocking. “You’re already losing. And do you know why?” He steps closer, his fingers pressing against my bruised ribs, sending agony lancing through

Ghost POVI can’t calm down, no matter how much I try, I fucking can’t. My father is apparently working on finding out what’s going on inside the De Luca estate, but it doesn’t do shit to settle me. It just leaves me pacing, burning with a restless rage I don’t know how to contain.He’s fine. He has to be fine. He took over from his father, he’s in charge now. But power only means something if the ones under you listen. And Giovanni—fucking Giovanni—I know he’s not the type to just step aside.I keep telling myself it’s nothing, that I’m overthinking, but I know I’m not. Something is wrong. It’s like this instinct, this fucking weight pressing against my ribs, warning me. The only thing stopping me from storming that estate is the slim chance that I’m wrong—because if I go there and I’m not? I might as well put the gun to Prince’s head myself.But fuck, he could at least call. Just a single message. A simple I’m okay.I down another drink, but it doesn’t help. The office is pointless.

Prince POVI don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting that question—not now, not ever. Yet Ghost is standing there, watching me, waiting for an answer like this is something I should have already decided.He’s right. If I marry within the week, I take over. I secure my position. My father loses any power to stop me. It’s a simple solution.But it’s not simple at all.The ice-cold water isn’t helping. My thoughts are sluggish, numb, like my body is still trying to process the beating I took. I can’t focus on the weight of his question when all I feel is the cold sinking into my bones.“Can I get out?” My voice comes out rough, the words barely forming through the haze in my head. “The cold isn’t helping me think.”Ghost nods and grabs a towel. “Yeah, sure.”I step out of the bath, and the relief is instant. My muscles ache, but at least I’m free from that freezing hell. How the fuck he does this regularly, I don’t know. Then again, Ghost has been fighting his entire life. Boxing, str

Ghost POVHe said yes.He actually fucking said yes.My mind barely registers the conversation happening around me. My father is speaking, Josie is watching me with that knowing smirk, but all I can focus on is the fact that he said yes.Fuck business. Fuck family politics. Fuck the power plays, the alliances, the deals that have been the center of our world for so long. None of it matters—not right now.Because he agreed to marry me.A raw, consuming heat coils in my chest, a mix of possessiveness and something deeper that I can’t even begin to name. He’s mine. Fully, undeniably mine. And in five days, the entire world will know it.My father’s voice pulls me back. “We need to move carefully. Giovanni is going to retaliate when he finds out.”Prince shifts beside me, his body still tense from the pain, but his presence is strong. “He already started retaliating when he had me chained up in that cellar,” he mutters. “This just solidifies the war.”His words should have me thinking str

Prince POVSitting across from Salvatore is unsettling. I’m used to my father, to his methods, his cold control, the way he wields power like a scalpel. Salvatore is nothing like him.I expected the ruthless crime lord Ghost always described—the man who pushed him too hard, who blamed him for everything, who forced him to be stronger than any son should have to be. I expected cruelty hidden behind a polished exterior, the same way my father operates.But I’m not seeing that.Ghost’s father isn’t anything like mine, and that confuses the hell out of me. He doesn’t carry the same kind of quiet malice, the undercurrent of barely contained rage. He doesn’t wield fear like a weapon, doesn’t make me feel like I need to watch every move I make in case I slip up.It’s strange. Because despite everything, my father always presented himself as supportive. He pretended to understand me, to care about what I wanted—even as he sent me to be broken and rebuilt into his perfect heir. And yet here si