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Chapter 156 – two days ago: he’s not who you thought he was.
Last Updated:
2025-04-18 21:24:11
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 157: Rage Over Love—broken and Played.
Clayton stayed silent, arms folded, eyes narrowing like I’d insulted him. He looked pissed that I even asked. Fuck! I should’ve kept quiet because deep down I knew the answer already, and I regretted my question the second it left my mouth.He didn’t care. Not like that.From the start, he made it clear—this alliance was to get him out of prison and take revenge on his brother. I was just the means to an end, stuck in the middle of their war. The only thing we shared was a common enemy.“That’s beside the point right now,” he snapped. “Whether I care or not won’t save you. What’ll save you is shutting up and letting my plan work.”His voice sliced through the air, sharp—like a whip.“You’ve got a psycho in a suit slipping poison in your drink, calling you his queen. And you want to talk about emotions?” His laugh was cold. “Get your head straight, Allison. Love or care won’t protect you from someone like Dontrell. Smarts will.”He frowned. “Else you end up in a coffin.”If I didn’t kn
Last Updated : 2025-04-19The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 158 – I killed him.
I couldn’t feel my hands or face—just static, white noise in my head as the world went mute. I sat frozen, eyes wide, heart pounding, but everything felt distant, like I was watching my life collapse through a glass. Andrew was gone. I accepted that, but Dontrell being the cause shattered me.A man he trusted and believed in—being the cause of his death—shook me to my bones.The betrayal burnt like acid. I wanted to scream, but no sound came. My chest heaved, a sob rising.I bit back a sob, my chest rising and falling with violent gasps. Clayton couldn't know. He couldn’t find out that I used to sleep with Andrew. That I’d loved him. That there were nights I chose Andrew’s bed over Dontrell’s.If he knew, it would confirm the suspicions he’d had all along. I clenched my fists tight, holding in the scream building in my throat.“Wait... what did you say?” My voice trembled, barely a whisper.Clayton leaned back in his chair, a half-laugh slipping from his lips. It was dark. Bitter. Alm
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My mouth tasted like blood, though I hadn’t bitten my tongue. I just sat there, knees together, fists clenched in my lap like a child awaiting punishment. The silence was louder than Clayton’s voice. The silence was louder than Clayton’s voice. He’d said it—Dontrell killed Andrew. Breathing suddenly felt like a betrayal. My body trembled, but my mind screamed one question—how long had he been watching us?I shook my head violently. “No, no, Dontrell wouldn’t—he cried when Andrew died!”“As he would have cried too if Hollis had succeeded in killing me. The same hitman he used to eliminate Andrew was the one he sent to inject me too here a few days ago.” Clayton spoke unfiltered, abruptly.I got up from my seat; my knees buckled, but I caught myself on the wall. “ I didn’t pull the trigger”, I whispered, “but I killed Andrew… with my actions.”I sank back into the chair, tears slipping down my cheeks.Clayton didn’t soften. “He used your love for Andrew, your grief, your loyalty. Dontre
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“How could you even think that?” I whisper, my voice shaking. “After everything we’ve been through?” My back rested against the bedroom wall. Dontrell stood before me, chest heaving like a brewing storm, jaw ticking with fury.”“You think I’d trade your love for his lies? After all we'd survived?”He stepped closer. My breath hitched, but I didn’t flinch.”“Clayton’s a distraction. Don’t give him the relevance he craves —don’t let him win.” I touched his chest, letting the silence carry my words. “If you have to ask me that… then maybe he’s already won.”He still looked unconvinced.“You’re the only man I’ve ever needed,” I whispered, looking away, hurt. “If you don’t know that by now… Maybe you never really knew me.”He stood still, but I could see the tension start to fade from his shoulders. My tears spilt freely, on purpose.“I didn’t want the world to think I came between you two,” I whispered, trembling. “I didn’t want to be the reason the Blade bloodline went to war.”I reached
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I turned off the main road long before anyone could see me, slipping through the narrow, unmarked path that wound between tall hedges and rustling trees. The evening light cast everything in gold and shadow—perfect for disappearing.The compound was quiet. No guards in sight. No movement. Just high walls, iron gates, and a silence that buzzed like static in my ears.I killed the humming engine and parked in the corner where the cameras wouldn’t catch me—if there were even cameras at all. My heart thudded once, hard, as I stepped out, leaving the car behind. An unsettling calm that felt anything but safe came upon me.My heels crunched against the gravel, every step echoing louder than it should’ve.The house loomed ahead. I walked fast but careful, every footstep a risk. No one must know I was here.Before I could even lift a hand to knock, the door clicked open.He’d been watching.I stepped inside without hesitation. As soon as my heel touched the marble floor, the door clicked shut
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“I didn’t do it to betray you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.Clayton didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, cold and still, like my words were just noise blowing through a storm he had already survived.“Then why, Allison?” Clayton snapped. “Why pay some street rat to tail me, digging through my business like I’m just some suspect on a list?”My stomach twisted into a hard knot. “You weren’t giving me the truth. I needed answers.”He sighed and sat on the edge of the desk, his body so close to me. “So instead of asking me, you go behind my back like a coward?”I exhaled.“No,” he laughed bitterly. “Not a coward. A traitor.”“Don’t call me that,” I said quickly, but my voice broke.He tilted his head, his eyes burning into me. “Why shouldn't I? You went snooping where you had no business. You treated me like the enemy. Like I haven’t bled for you these past few days.”“I needed to protect myself,” I said, voice shaking. “You kept me in the dark.”“I told
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The room was cold—or maybe it was just him. Arms folded, gaze sharp like a blade.My heart hammered, but I refused to back down.“How are you this calm? Someone just died.” His eyes locked on mine. Cold. Because he already knew.Of course, he did. Clayton didn’t just play the game—he built it, set the rules, and broke them when it suited him.I stared at him. He didn’t deny it, just watched me. But his silence said everything.“My contact told me a few hours ago. The official report says he touched a naked wire. But that’s not what happened. And we both know better. It was a hit. A clean one.”He went on, calm like he was reading a weather report.“Dontrell did it. He didn’t like that I left that cell untouched. And he’s trying to be extra careful since I’m out now. So, he tied the loose end.”My mouth went dry. “He had him killed?”Clayton nodded once. “Suffocated. With a pillow laced with carfentanil—the kind that stops your heart before you scream. Then they finished him with a w
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I was pinned. His cock was inside me. Deep. Stretching. Filling. “Fuck,” I gasped, nails scraping the wall.Clayton’s hands gripped my thighs like he owned them, spreading me wider, fucking me harder. His cock slammed into me, brutal and thick, every thrust shaking my bones.“Don’t look at me like that. You know you don’t matter to me.” He growled into my ear, voice jagged with heat. “The moment I cum, I'll forget this ever happened. I’m not the type of man who stays around for aftercare sex. So don’t wait for one either.” He thrust again.I choked on a moan. “Fuck you.” He laughed.His mouth latched onto my neck, sucking hard as he drove deeper, faster. His body was fire against mine, sweat-slick between us, his abs tightening with every thrust.I was already trembling. He hadn’t even slowed.He reached down, grabbed my ass with one hand, and used it to bounce me harder onto him. My legs dangled. I couldn’t speak—only moan.“Clayton—fuck, keep going—”He heard.He shoved deeper. Th
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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
