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Confrontation!
Last Updated:
2025-10-24 15:47:57
Latest chapter
Taming Mr.Mafia King Confrontation!
"T-Thomas?"I murmured after taking a look into his appearance. I almost didn't recognize him. He looked like a total beggar. His body was dehydrated while he lost all his muscles like they never existed before. His hair was a mess. His clothes were half ripped and way too huge for him.But the important question was, how did he end up like this? Just how?"So now, you remember?"He scoffed."Because of you, Vincenzo killed my father. You are responsible for his death and for my situation."My eyes went to Ronald, who was watching everything silently. It was way too obvious that he knew what exactly was going on, but keeping his face neutral he stared forward nonchalantly."You know everything, isn't it Ronald?"I asked him straight while his eyes went to my face carefully before he spoke."About what?"He asked back like he didn't know what I was talking about."Don't play dumb with me. I know your boss is behind all of this.""Then perhaps you should be asking this boss, not me."I
Taming Mr.Mafia King Strange Behaviour!
Elena's POV'My eyes remain stuck on the screen to check the medical records of my current patient. After checking all the details, I shut down the PC and stared out of the window, releasing a sigh.It's been a month since that night when Vincenzo, not even in my wildest dream, I thought he would ask for something called cuddles. It was still shocking that a dangerous man like him would ask for something like cuddles. It wasn't on my bingo card.After that night we hadn't been intimate with each other.....another shocking thing, right? I know and, given his sex drive, it was unbelievable at first, but later it got clear with time when every time I distanced myself using an excuse, so yeah, he never initiated sex first.I thought it was for good, but as time passed, I started to grow frustrated watching his strange behavior. Every time he came out of the shower only in a towel while the water droplets streamed down his toned body, looking hot as hell, and that man had the audacity to n
Taming Mr.Mafia King She's Mine!
Vincenzo's POV'The mansion was silent when I stepped inside.The marble floors gleamed beneath the dim chandelier light, but every sound I made—my shoes, the harsh drag of my breath—felt louder than it should have.I didn’t turn on the full lights. I didn’t need to. Darkness suited me better.The scent of gunpowder still clung faintly to my clothes, the night’s chaos trailing me like smoke. There were dark bloody stains along the cuff of my shirt, a mark on my jaw where something—had caught me, but I didn’t flinch. I'd long grown used to wearing the aftermath of my work.As I climbed the stairs, the weight of the world seemed to fall away with every step, leaving only one thought—the door at the end of the corridor.I pushed it open quietly.The faintest glow from the bedside lamp spilled over her form. Elena was there, curled slightly toward the window, the sheets tangled around her like silk waves. The steady rhythm of her breathing filled the room, soft and even, the only sound th
Taming Mr.Mafia King Pain Wasn't Loud!
Elena's POV'I walked out of the hospital with Sarah by my side as it was almost nighttime, so we were on our way back home. The hospital lights dimmed behind us as Sarah and I stepped out into the evening air. The city had begun to fold itself into night — headlights streaking by, the scent of rain lingering from earlier showers.I exhaled softly, feeling the ache of the long shift in my shoulders, but the older woman beside me walked as if the day had barely touched her. It's more like she's used to it but hats off to the woman.“Ah.”Sarah sighed, tilting her face up to the sky.“Nothing feels better than the air after a twelve-hour shift. Smells like freedom to me.”I chuckled.“Freedom and car exhaust.”Sarah laughed, a bright, musical sound that cut through the tiredness clinging to them.“Don’t ruin my poetry, dear. You’re too young to be this cynical.”We crossed the parking lot together, the elder woman linking her arm through mine without waiting for permission — she never d
Taming Mr.Mafia King Villain!
The warehouse sat deep in the forest — a place forgotten by time, where even the wind hesitated to whisper. Its walls were rusted ribs of corrugated metal, streaked with age and rain, bleeding orange under the dim light that flickered from a dying bulb.The air inside was thick, stale with the scent of oil, blood, and decay — a silence broken only by the occasional drip of water echoing against the concrete floor.In the middle of that gloom sat a man, tied to a chair that had done too many sins. The ropes bit into his wrists, cutting angry lines into his skin, and his head hung low, heavy with exhaustion.Dust danced in the pale shafts of moonlight that seeped through broken panels, brushing against his bruised face like a cruel caress. Somewhere in the distance, metal chains clinked — a sound that promised pain more than rescue.The warehouse was a graveyard of secrets, a place where screams went unheard and mercy came late, if at all. Every shadow seemed alive, watching, waiting. A
Taming Mr.Mafia King Led Back To Him!
Elena stood as Vincenzo's Lamborghini Egoista sped off the street, the echo of his words still settling in the air—an aftershock that made the pavement feel smaller under her feet.A cold wind came off the avenue, scouring the last warmness of the morning. It tangled in her hair and pried at the edges of her coat, but she did not wrap it tighter or hurry away. The gust lifted the loose strands across her face and dragged at the hem of her skirt; it smelled faintly of rain and car exhaust, sharp and honest. For once, the elements seemed to match the small, stubborn calm she felt inside—an exterior wind that couldn’t reach the quiet she’d carved for herself.Her jaw worked once, almost imperceptibly, as if testing whatever pride she had left. She watched his car become a dark sliver between buildings, then turned her gaze inward, away from the disappearing tail-lights. Only then did she notice them.They weren’t showy—no emblazoned suits or swaggering postures. They were professionals:
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