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92. Retaliation

Author: Erika Lana Bell
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-23 22:18:45

Hale’s pov.

I return just after dusk.

The gates click shut behind the armored car, and the familiar gravel under the tires sounds wrong in my ears. Too calm. Too still. As if the house is holding something back.

Inside, the air is chilled and sterile. The foyer is lit. Music hums faintly from the hall speakers—instrumental, low, forgettable.

Everything looks normal.

But I don’t trust normal.

Not in my house.

Not after the last two days.

Sable is waiting for me just inside the grand hall. She doesn’t greet me. Doesn’t salute or bow her head. She’s not in uniform, but she still holds herself like a weapon. Controlled. Coiled. Tense.

My pulse picks up.

I strip off my gloves and hand them to the butler as I cross the threshold.

She speaks before I do.

“I need to speak with you.”

I glance at her. “You’re doing that already.”

Her tone is flat. “Privately.”

I nod once and gesture toward the eastern study. She follows.

I shut the door behind us and lean against the frame, arms crossed. Sable
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  • Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King   106. The Wait

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  • Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King   105. Sold To The Highest Bidder

    Belle’s pov.They close the curtain.And everything stops.The lights. The voices. The warmth.It all dies behind me as they pull me off stage like a broken puppet no one wants to look at anymore.The man gripping my arm doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. The silver cuff bites into my wrist when I resist, and that’s enough reminder to keep moving. I don’t look at him. I don’t look at anyone. I keep my eyes locked on the floor as I’m marched down a corridor that smells like bleach and expensive cologne. The click of my shoes echoes—too loud, too slow.I’m not shaking.I’m too cold for that now.They take me to a white room with no windows. Just walls. Smooth, soundproof, gleaming like everything’s been wiped clean one too many times.There’s a chair in the center.A camera in the corner.And nothing else.They leave me there. No words. No threats. No comfort.Just silence.I stand in the middle of the room long after the door closes.Then I sit.Slowly.My knees ache. My shoulders burn

  • Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King   104. Run

    Cali’s pov.At first, I don’t realize what I’m looking at.I’m walking toward Hale through the velvet-draped corridor, the sharp click of my heels muffled by carpet that costs more than I ever made on a contract. My hand is curled into a loose fist against my thigh, my shoulders back, head high. My skin itches beneath the glamour they painted onto me earlier—fake lashes, sculpted cheekbones, the dye in my hair still smells like chemicals under the perfume. I hate it.But I keep walking.I spot him near the far end of the corridor.I exhale, the breath shaky but relief-tinged. I just want to get to him. I need to feel his hand on my back, to know this nightmare is still under control.And then I see who he’s talking to.My feet halt mid-step.My heart stops.No.He’s standing face to face with someone I’d hoped was a ghost.But ghosts don’t smirk like that.Ghosts don’t wear Italian suits and sip scotch and tilt their heads like they’re already bored of whatever girl they’ll be buying

  • Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King   103. Ghost Follow

    There’s a hum in the air I’ve learned not to ignore. Not a sound, exactly—more like pressure. The kind that coils in the base of your spine, too subtle to name but too loud to mistake. It’s the warning before a predator enters the room. The low static before a bullet leaves a chamber.And I feel it now.It tightens the back of my neck. Pricks the edge of my nerves.I turn my head, already knowing what I’ll see.Killian Vale.The moment my eyes land on him, it feels like a blade against my ribs.He’s dressed like he wants to be envied—tailored navy suit, platinum watch, cuffs rolled just enough to show off a black ink tattoo curling under his sleeve. It’s for show. He always overcompensates, always performs for the audience. But the smile on his face—that grin carved from cruelty and unchecked indulgence—it’s real. That’s him. Down to the bone.I haven’t seen him in years.But there’s not a damn thing about him that’s changed.He’s leaning casually near a tall crystal sculpture at the

  • Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King   102. Unmasked

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  • Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King   101. The Ford Name

    Hale’s pov.I know she’s about to walk out before the curtain even moves. The shift in energy gives it away—the silence that tightens like a noose, the way some of the guests suddenly lean forward in their seats with new hunger in their eyes. Final lot. Something special. Something exclusive. I feel Cali tense beside me. Her hand’s still wrapped around mine, fingers tight, her pulse a frantic thrum under her skin. But I don’t look at her. Not yet. Not when every ounce of my attention has to be locked onto what comes next.The announcer clears his throat. “Our final lot this evening comes from a most prestigious lineage. An exclusive offering. Virgin. Seventeen. Untouched. An heir of the Ford name.”Cali’s nails dig into my hand.Then the curtain parts.And Belle walks out.The room doesn’t breathe.She’s dressed in a pale blue slip of silk that hangs off her like she’s a doll someone forgot to finish. Her hair is braided in that careful, glossy way girls wear when they’re being parade

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