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Chapter 114: Allison’s POV—Kissed into Submission.
Huling Na-update:
2025-03-10 19:57:34
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 115: Wicked Hearts.
I stood in front of the tub, expecting a response. But I got nothing. They just stared at me like fools.I tried to be polite, but my anger was simmering. As an only child, sharing my space—especially my bathroom—was unthinkable. Letting strangers see my body? A definite no. I knew respect was for everyone, regardless of status, but irritation won. Being naked in front of them was too much."Cat got your tongue? Speak!" I snapped, rolling my eyes.One of them, a petite brunette, stepped forward, bowing her head. “Master Dontrell ordered us to take care of everything for you today—including your bath.”I exhaled sharply. “No.” My voice was firm. “I can bathe myself. Wait outside.”The second woman hesitated. “But Ma—”“I said NO.” My tone snapped like a whip, eyes flashing. “If I wanted company in the tub, I’d have invited him in. Stay out here and don’t move unless I tell you to.” My gaze flickered between them. “Is that clear?” Both women stiffened before bowing their heads. “Yes, Ma
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-11The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 116: A New Year’s Seduction; Bent and Begging.
The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock and the slow, uneven breaths Dontrell tried to control. But I wasn’t going to let him. A low, erratic moan slipped from his lips as my heel pressed firmer against his arousal, the sharp point dragging along the outline of his hardened length making his body jerk. "Kitten, enough." His voice was rough, thick with need, edged with command. "I won’t repeat myself." A slow, wicked yet knowing smile curled my lips. "Why? You don’t like it?" My left hand remained on his collar, while my right moved deliberately down his torso, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. When the last button fell open, I splayed my palm across his bare chest, tracing the inked letters of my name just above his heart. My hand brushed over the tattoo, tracing my claim against his skin. His muscles tensed beneath my touch. "You're playing with fire." I dragged my nails to his navel. "Then burn for me, Dontrell." In a blink of an eye, he grabbed my wrist and
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-11The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 117: Fuck First, Talk Later.
The breakfast was forgotten—untouched plates, burnt-out candles, and only him in my mind—his masculine, naked body, the way he had just ruined me. And yet, he wasn’t done.Dontrell didn’t waste time. One moment, his lips crashed into mine; the next, I was on the kitchen counter, legs spread as he stepped between them."You’re shaking," he smirked, fingers tightening on my waist. "Scared?"He didn’t move slowly. He grabbed my thighs, dragged me to the counter’s edge, and spread me wide, the back of my legs touching the counter’s tiles. My body ached from it, but the heat pooling in my belly made me forget.My hands gripped the edge of the counter, nails digging in as he pressed against me. He brushed his lips over my ear, his breath warm, teasing."I want to kill your dad for what he did to you… but I also want to thank him. If he hadn’t sold you out, I wouldn’t have met you." His husky whisper was unexpected but genuine.My lips parted. “Thank—”A deep, punishing thrust stole my breat
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-13The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 118: In the Arms of the Devil
Dontrell’s body tensed, his senses on high alert, but his smirk didn’t falter. His dark eyes flickered with amusement, but there was a sharp and daring air about the way he stood unfazed."Dove," he drawled, tilting his head. "Are you holding me hostage?"I didn’t let go. My thighs still trembled from his ruthless claim. My palm became hot; my hand was too fragile for the way I forced it to harden against him. Yet—something inside me wouldn’t let him leave. Not yet.He grunted, but he didn’t pull his hands away from mine. "You’re acting like something bad is about to happen." I swallowed. A strange feeling crawled under my skin. It wasn’t paranoia; it was exhaustion—this beast of a man always fucked me like he wouldn’t fuck again in years; his experience in the field was top-notch. A slow, creeping sense of embarrassment slithered through me, but I spoke out anyway.“If you come back with that water, and I drink, eat, and recover, you’ll fuck me again, straight to the hospital."He l
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-13The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 119: When Clayton Speaks, Hell Listens.
My breath hitched as I met Clayton Blade’s eyes. The rest of the world faded. The distant hum of the television turned into white noise. It was just me and him, a moment I never wanted.Panic jolted through me, but I shoved it down. I was weak, but I wouldn't let him see it. Not now. Not ever.“Put me down,” I gritted, ignoring my exhaustion.Clayton smirked, his grip firm, amused—like a predator toying with prey."Now, now, Angel," he drawled. "Is that how you greet family? Or the man who saved your skull?"I stiffened, hatred bubbling under my skin. “If I could turn back time, I'd sooner let this fall end me than be caught by you."His smirk deepened, smug—like he knew something I didn’t. And it infuriated me."Then why are you still lying in my hands?" His voice mocked, his knowing eyes burning into mine.Fury ignited. I shoved against his chest, ignoring the pain as I forced myself up despite the searing pain that shot through my limbs. He moved to help me again, but I slapped his
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-14The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 120: Blood on the Screen.
The stench of death wasn’t here, but I swore I could smell it. With the way it glistened on the broadcast, tracing jagged patterns across the floor, seeping into cracks. The camera zoomed in—the crimson name glared back at me. My pulse pounded, a deafening roar against the eerie silence.Clayton stopped mid-step. The sound of the television seized him in place; his hand hovered on his cufflinks. The news anchor’s voice was clinical and detached as he continued his report—~“Authorities report that the victim was found bound to a chair with a knife plunged through her abdomen, impaling her straight through to the back of the chair. Pinning her to the seat.”~I exhaled sharply, my stomach knotting. My gaze locked onto the screen. The image of the lifeless girl, her delicate features frozen in a haunting stillness.“God.” I rasped, and my hand shot up, covering my mouth as bile rose in my throat. The reporter continued, her voice cold as she described the gruesome scene. The victim’s in
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-15The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 121: A Brother’s Wrath, A Killer’s Laugh.
The door slammed into the wall with a resounding thud.Clayton and I didn’t flinch. We knew who it was. But the look on Dontrell’s face twisted my stomach—I’d never seen him like this. His fury was untamed. Deadly. My relief at seeing him lasted only a second before fear clawed its way back.His heavy footsteps pounded like the warning drum of a storm about to break. Dontrell loomed into the room. His chest heaved, knuckles bone white with rage.His gaze fell on me, and then it went back to Clayton."You have three seconds to explain." He growled, like a lion ready to tear down everything in his path.I didn’t understand. What was he saying?Clayton didn’t lower the pocket knife in his grip. He held it steady like a predator, waiting.“Clayton—" My voice shook. "What did you do?"His cold eyes cut to me. "None of your business, bitch."Dontrell moved.It was like a lightning strike. One second he was in front of me—the next, he lunged. His fist slammed into Clayton’s jaw, knocking him
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-16The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 122: The Last Straw.
“You piece of shit!” Dontrell’s voice was raw and deadly.A roar ripped from him as he launched a blow, then another, his fists colliding with Clayton’s face. Blood smeared his knuckles, but Clayton didn’t fight back. He just laughed maniacally, even as blood dripped from his mouth.Dontrell’s final punch cracked against Clayton’s jaw, snapping his head sideways. Still, he laughed—a madman revelling in chaos.When Dontrell finally stopped, panting, Clayton wiped his lip.“She was weak,” he said simply. “And weakness gets eliminated.”“You scoundrel,” I spat, shaking in my seat. “She was your sister.”Clayton only blinked. “So?”My world shattered.I could barely breathe. I had seen cruelty before, but nothing matched the cold, calculated violence in Clayton’s eyes. He followed orders without hesitation—terrifyingly efficient. My chest tightened at the thought: if fate had led me to him instead of Dontrell, I’d have been destroyed. Marrying Dontrell hadn’t just saved me—it had spared m
Huling Na-update : 2025-03-16
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 186: Clayton’s POV: Epilogue— Clayton’s POV—Endgame.
She didn’t understand it and maybe she didn’t need to.Because she still saw the world in soft, redeemable tones. Even after what my father did. What Dontrell did. What I did.And maybe that’s why I fought so hard to deserve her. Because someone like her doesn’t end up in a life like mine by accident. She was chosen by fate—or cursed by it. Either way, I knew I’d burn down every version of this world before I let it take her from me again.I looked at my phone. The hospital report came in.Same condition. No progress. The nurses said Dontrell hadn’t spoken since; instead, he started having seizures often and often, and yet… I still sent money. Still made sure his room had sunlight. That his sheets were clean. That the men standing outside his door reported only to me.Because he was my brother.And that still meant something.I heard her voice behind me. “Again?”God, that voice. The way she could make one word feel like a thousand. She’d seen the worst of me—every bloodstain, every b
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 185: Epilogue – Allison’s POV — serenity.
I watched Clayton from across the rooftop garden as the breeze rustled the edges of his open shirt. The golden sunset flared behind him, but he didn’t look up. His gaze hovered on his phone, thumb paused over the screen, like whatever he was reading had pulled him somewhere far from me.“Again?” I asked, pitching my voice to be loud enough.He looked up slowly, locking eyes with me. That same determined gaze he wore when things got hard. When his emotions ran too deep to show.“Yes,” he said, voice low, firm. “I have to do it.”I crossed the space between us, barefoot, heart steady. “But you know you don’t owe him anything.”Clayton’s lips curved, soft and sad. “He’s my brother.”My heart ached for the way he said it. Not because it was a lie, but because it was true.Five years since the trial, since the feds shattered Dontrell’s empire. Clayton hadn’t run from the damage—he stood in it. Quietly, fiercely, with no cameras watching.He bought back every property the feds didn’t bury.
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 184: No More Lies, No More Masks. (Three weeks later)
I peeled off his suit jacket slowly, my fingers trailing over the dark silk. The tag glinted on the inside of his chest—*Godfather.* A title barely a few hours old, still hot from the Circle’s overnight meeting where he had been crowned.We were supposed to be at the Victory Gala right now—celebrating his hotel expansion in partnership with my new dance company. But we couldn’t wait—his mouth claimed mine the second the car door shut and his men stepped down. Instead of champagne and niceties, we were tangled up in the back seat of his car—completely unable to keep our hands off each other.His men stood like statues—guns, suits, dead stares. No one came close.Our mouths were locked. The windows fogged as we kissed like starved souls. His lips, greedy and sweet, erased the ruthless man crowned by the ‘CIRCLE’ just hours ago.“Congratulations, Godfather Clayton,” I whispered against his lips.He chuckled, dark and low, then kissed me harder. “Thank you, my queen.”I dragged my hand
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 183: I Choose You, Still.
"What are you doing here?" Clayton's voice cut through the silence. He stepped inside, his figure shadowing the doorway. "Why couldn't you stay in the living room downstairs, or at least stay in the fucking room? Why come here?"I didn’t flinch. I’d heard that bark before. Clayton Blade had always been a man of biting words. I stood there, tears wet on my face, paper clenched in my hand.I ignored his harsh words and the sting and asked, my voice trembling, "Did you mean this?" I held out the paper. "Did you mean everything you wrote here?”His jaw clenched, a muscle working beneath the skin. For a moment, I thought he might ignore me, walk away, or tell me I was being foolish. But instead, he scoffed and muttered, "You shouldn't be here.”That was all. He didn’t give me an answer. Just that damn, dismissive line—like none of it mattered. He wasn’t even looking at the paper. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking somewhere past me, somewhere I couldn’t follow.I couldn’t stand there
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 182: Allison’s POV: He Never Moved On.
I expected unease walking into this house again.The Blade mansion was eerily quiet, but it no longer frightened me. It had once been a fortress of fear, soaked in pain. With Mr. Blade gone, rotting in prison for even just a few months, breathing here felt a little easier.The heaviness that once clung to the estate had loosened.Clayton’s men stood like statues by his bedroom door, nodding as I walked past and went In. They didn’t question me. They didn’t need to. I belonged here once—even if only at night, in stolen moments, wearing guilt like perfume.The moment I entered, his scent hit me —musk, spice, leather. Familiar, maddening—uniquely him. My eyes scanned the room—the chair by the fireplace, the silk sheets, the broken lamp, the window chair. The whiskey decanter, heavy curtains, the bed—all the same.My chest tightened. I remembered the fortnight—when he hurt, took, and claimed me with blood.But I blinked it away.He wasn’t that man anymore—not in the end. Not lately. Clay
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 181: Clayton’s POV; sue came back.
The moment the car door shut, the fake smile I wore at that goddamn charity dinner melted off like wax. My jaw clenched. I sighed, the night’s weight pressing down on me.I didn’t bother acknowledging my driver. He knew better than to speak when I was like this.I exhaled sharply and rolled my neck. The suit jacket was the first thing to go, then the cufflinks—ripped off and tossed beside me. Yanked my collar open just to breathe. The air felt thick—or maybe it was just me, choking on memories.Allison.God, her name still felt like a bruise on my chest.Told myself the damn event would distract me. But it never works. Not with her.I leaned back and closed my eyes. How did I get here? From hating her with every fibre in my body… to falling so deep I couldn’t see my way out?She used to sneak out of her ex-husband’s mansion—my brother’s house. She’d arrive in designer clothes and leave wearing my scent. Every visit started with a plan—some draft to catch Dontrell, some excuse to meet—
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 180: Leaving His Cock, Chasing Fire.
“Fuck, that’s tight,” Reed groaned, thrusting in, his veiny hands spreading my thighs wide.The hotel room smelt like expensive cologne, clean sheets, and sex. Our brunch date was long forgotten.“Yeah, just like that,” my moans echoed off the suite’s walls. I clawed at his back, legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust deep and smooth.Classic missionary. All on display. He kissed my jaw, strokes slow but hard, bouncing me into the bed.He slapped my breasts and drove in deep, pausing as I clenched before resuming with a wild rhythm. I moaned in response, throwing my head back like I meant it, nails raking down his back. He was giving it to me well—deep strokes, rough rhythm, the kind of pounding that made the bed slam against the wall. Reed had the stamina and the moves. His sinful voice matched the kisses trailing my breasts, sucking hard as his hips slammed into me.“You feel me, baby? You feel all this dick?” He whispered, lips brushing my titties.“Uh-huh,” I lied, grinding u
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 179: Allison’s POV: wild thoughts.
Three months ago, my name blazed across headlines like blood on silk.“Allison Blade Finalises Divorce from Mafia Kingpin Dontrell Blade.”“Mafia Wife Walks Away: Allison Blade Now Legally Single.”“From Blackmail to Freedom—Inside the Fall of a Criminal Empire’s Queen.”“Single and Free: Allison Blade Cuts Ties with Comatose Crime Lord”I didn’t need to read the articles — didn’t need to. I’d lived it.The court declared Dontrell unfit for trial—permanently incapacitated, doctors said—vegetative. Alive, but unreachable. A man who once ruled with an iron grip now lay breathless under a sterile hospital light, surrounded by machines that did his living for him.Filing for divorce should’ve felt like a betrayal. Instead, it felt sweet.The day I filed, I didn’t cry. I walked into the courthouse, signed the petition, and told the clerk I was ready to leave hell behind. Two weeks later, a judge reviewed my case. They assigned Dontrell a guardian ad litem—some lawyer who never looked me
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 178: Dontrell’s POV: They’ll All Burn.
I left my father’s house ten years ago and never looked back—even now, confined to a wheelchair, voiceless, motionless. I lived fully.My name would echo through generations— how I played my father and almost won if Celine's jealousy over my cover marriage to Allison hadn't ruined it.I left the house with nothing but a hunger for power—and I swore to claim it, whatever the cost. Father’s ways were too constricting. His empire was built on loyalty, fear, and respect, and I wanted it differently. I wanted more. I wanted total control. It wasn’t just the mansion, the power, or the empire I’d grown up with—it was the respect I was owed. I was the firstborn son, the one who was supposed to carry on his name. But instead, I was just another puppet in a game where he pulled the strings. I do all the work, and he gets all the glory. He leashed me and fed me scraps while he ruled as godfather. But I wasn’t some obedient little dog—that was Clayton. I envisioned power without him—without an
