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64. He's Watching
Last Updated:
2025-05-30 16:38:22
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Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 69. The Fight For Freedom
The dark car rounds the corner.The second I see the tinted windows, something shifts inside me.I don’t have time to freeze. I don’t have time to think.I need to move.Killian’s grip is still on my arm, tightening with every second, but I twist violently and slam my forehead into his nose. The crack is sharp, solid. He staggers back with a grunt, one hand flying to his face, eyes wide in stunned rage.I bolt.My legs move before I fully register it. I sprint toward the door I came through, the one leading back into the mall. I don’t look back. I don’t need to. Because I can already feel him coming for me.I reach the metal bar on the door, but I’m yanked back so fast the breath is ripped from my lungs. His arms wrap around my waist and drag me away from the door, heels scraping against the concrete, fingers clawing at anything I can grab.I scream.It rips from my throat, high and raw. My voice finally works—but it’s too late. No one’s around to hear it. No one is coming to my rescu
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 68. Monster Of The Past
My feet finally move.I don’t think. I just run.I shove the trolley aside and bolt down the nearest aisle, ignoring the stares from passing shoppers. Someone mutters something as I shoulder past them, but I can’t hear it through the pounding of my pulse in my ears. My legs burn, my lungs tighten, and I can’t force a single sound out of my throat.Scream. For heaven’s sake, Cali, just fucking scream!I know I should scream. But nothing—no sound comes from me.My voice is locked somewhere inside me, frozen under the weight of pure, bone-deep fear.I push through racks of clothing and shelves of boxed electronics. I glance left, then right—looking for anything that resembles a security booth or a uniformed guard. There’s nothing—no one I could run to for help. I could ask a random stranger in the store, but I already know it will be pointless.This is Killian Vale. He will shoot anyone who gets in the way—even in the public eye, with cameras on him. I’m not about to risk someone’s mothe
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 67. The Unexpected
We grab an early dinner at a quiet corner café tucked inside the mall. Nothing fancy—just quick bites before Hale insists we hit the department store while traffic is still manageable. I say little while I eat, chewing through half a grilled sandwich and sipping my iced tea while Hale scrolls through his phone. He doesn’t speak much either, but his eyes drift to me more than once as I wipe my fingers or tug my sweater sleeve down.It’s strange—how normal it all feels.Almost like this is what people like us could do. Like we’re just two regular people out on an errand run. Shopping. Eating. Breathing in freedom without anyone’s blood on our hands or secrets in our pockets.But of course, I know by now that things like this never last. Though, I still decide to revel in the feeling of it while it’s here. Pretending I wasn’t sitting in the company of the enemy.One—I may add—that did things to my body that would make a pornstar blush.By the time we enter the department store, the quiet
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 66. The Outing
Cali’s pov.It’s almost four in the afternoon when we finally stroll out of the bedroom.The air is warm and quiet in the hallway. Long, arched windows let in rays of golden sun, casting a soft glow across the corridor and gilding the marble beneath our feet. The floor glimmers faintly, veins of silver and gold streaking through the white and gray like something sacred—something I shouldn’t be allowed to walk on, not after what I’ve done.Staff pass us with quick efficiency, offering respectful nods or quiet greetings. I nod back, not trusting my voice.One of them is Daisy.The sight of her knocks the breath from my lungs. A single reminder, walking and breathing, of the betrayal I keep stacking like bricks inside my chest.I look down immediately, my eyes locking onto the floor like it holds all the answers I don’t want. I trace every intricate swirl and polished crack in the marble beneath me, pretending I’m fascinated by it. Pretending the rising guilt doesn’t feel as heavy as it
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 65. Change Of Plans
Hale’s pov. Her mouth is still on mine when I guide her back onto the bed. She doesn’t resist, her body melting under me, limbs loose and compliant, her breath already shallow.The need in her is as sharp as it is in me.I slide my hand beneath her thighs, spreading them open. She makes a soft sound, half-moan, half-breath, her eyes fluttering as I lean down and kiss my way lower. I take my time with her. I drag my mouth across her chest, suck and nibble at her nipples until she squirms, then keep going, trailing down the soft line of her stomach, leaving nothing untouched.She trembles as I settle between her legs.Her fingers dive into my hair, her fingers curlimg around the strands and starts pulling. The moment my mouth closes around the sensitive bud between her legs, her body jolts.I lick her slow at first—deep, steady strokes of my tongue, savoring every reaction. Her breath comes fast. Her hips start to move. She tries to stay still, tries to keep quiet, but I know how to p
Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King 64. He's Watching
Weeks pass without anything significant happening. I still speak to my father every day, still searching for a way to get around Hale’s cameras and his constant surveillance long enough to steal the USB. I’ve made several attempts to visit my old room—now spotless, refurbished, and stocked with new furniture. Each time, I play it off like I’m there for something harmless. Pretending I need clothes. Grabbing a book from the library and stretching out on the bed as if I’m just there to read. I mention how the sun hits the mattress perfectly during the afternoon, how I always loved reading with the warmth on my skin. It’s the only excuse I have. And so far, it’s working.However, only to a point. I still have no damn clue where Hale put the cameras in this room. I can’t just start tearing into furniture or yanking paintings off the wall again. If I do, he’ll know I’m up to something. And once suspicion sets in, it’s over.So, for now, I wait. I study. I observe every inch of the room—the
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