Semua Bab Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Bab 121 - Bab 130

Michael’s POVFernando looked like a corpse.I never thought I would feel anything for him beyond disgust, fury, and that burning ache for revenge—but now, watching him lie unconscious in this dimly lit room, something twisted inside my chest. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t pity. It was something uglier. More complicated.His chest barely rose beneath the sheet, his breathing shallow, mechanical, like his body had forgotten how to be alive.He was pale—unnaturally pale—like life had already started abandoning him.And still, I couldn’t let go of his hand.It was cold. Damp. Fragile. I remembered this same hand raised in arrogance, in violence, clenched into a fist as he spat cruel words at me. That same hand had pointed guns, killed people, and built the chaos we were drowning in.But right now, it wasn’t the hand of a monster. It was the hand of a dying man.I hated him. God, I hated him. But I didn’t want him to die like this.“You care about him now?” My unconscious mind asked

Michael’s POVI glanced sideways at Ashley and Marlo, their hands steady on their weapons, having the same tension I felt."Michael," Damian began, his voice smooth, almost too calm for the situation, "You and your friends—you're done. This is over. You’ve got nowhere to run. The FBI will have you soon enough. You can’t keep fighting forever. Just give up." He lowered his voice slightly, as if he trying to lull us into submission. "It’s not worth it."I couldn’t help but laugh, a cold, humorless sound that echoed through the compound. "Is that really your big plan, Damian? You think I'm going to just roll over because you say so?" I took a step forward, making sure my gun stayed steady in my hands. "You’ve clearly forgotten who you’re dealing with."Damian’s lips curled into a smirk. "I haven’t forgotten a damn thing, Michael. I just think you’re too stubborn for your own good. You’ve lost. You’re outgunned, outmanned, and you’re running out of time. There’s no escape. Just hand you

Michael’s POVThe heavy oak doors of the mansion finally shut with a deep, resonating thud, cutting off the outside world—and Andrew—with it. The second I heard the lock click into place, Ashley and I let out matching, loud sighs of relief, like two people getting to the surface after nearly drowning.Ashley bent down then straightened back up, rolling her shoulders as if trying to shake the tension off. Marlo kept his weapon up for a few seconds longer, almost like he was expecting the door to blow open any second, but even he finally let out a breath and tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants.“Holy shit,” Ashley said, pressing a hand over her heart. “I thought we weren’t making it back in.”“No kidding,” I replied, my voice rougher than I intended. My mouth was dry, my heartbeat still hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.Just then, Mortis and Emilio, who had been stationed by the door with their guns locked and ready, turned toward us. Their faces wer

Andrew’s POVThe mansion loomed in the distance, shrouded in mist, its silhouette an ugly reminder of my failures.I stood at the edge of the woods, my fists tightening at my sides, nails biting into my palms. My heart beat a furiously, each thud a declaration of hatred—hatred for Michael.I would make him bleed, make him kneel, and then—only then—Ashley would realize she belonged to me.“You’re staring holes through that place, you know,” Damian said beside me.I turned slightly, my glare softening only a bit as I regarded him. "We'll get what we came for, Andrew," Damian said, his voice low but firm. "But we have to be smart. Especially now."I narrowed my eyes at the mansion again. It seemed silent. Peaceful.Too peaceful."And why," I sneered, "do you think now is any different?"Damian shifted slightly, the sound of leaves under his boots cutting through the thick silence between us."Because," he said, "There’s a battalion inside that place."I scoffed, the sound sharp and bit

Damian’s POVI watched in silence, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged animal, as Santiago Morales, the infamous Don himself, pointed a silver pistol straight at Andrew's head.Andrew didn't flinch.Not even a blink.Typical Andrew.Always too proud, too stubborn, too full of rage to show fear even when staring down death.But me?I was a little more realistic.I knew what Santiago was capable of.I had heard the stories.And right now, standing just a few feet away, I could feel the power rolling off him like heat from a furnace.Still, even with a gun in his face, Andrew wasn’t backing down.Instead, his lip curled in disgust, and he let out a dry, humorless laugh."You?" Andrew spat. "You're a piece of shit criminal pointing a gun at a federal agent. You think that means something? It just means you're desperate."Santiago's mouth twitched, almost a smile, but his eyes stayed cold and sharp."You talk too much," Santiago said smoothly. "It’s a nasty habit. Someone might