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Chapter 50: Allison’s POV: Why did I wait this long before fucking him?
Last Updated:
2025-01-23 16:03:23
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 51: Touched by my Mafia husband: his Fingers in my cunt.
“Each time I touch you, you get tighter, sweeter. This body of yours is a drug and I can’t quit." His words were raw as he bit my thighs.His hand slid down, his fingers grazing my clitoral area, making my body jolt, heat exploding within me. My muffled cries fought the tight gag over my lips.He doesn’t slip a finger in yet but flicks my clit—relentless, precise—making my body tremble. The strap around my waist holds me down, shockwaves pulsing through me.Every time I try to close my legs, his grip holds me open, fingers digging in, pushing me closer to the edge.My bound hands jerked against the straps as his other hand found my breasts.“You look like sin laid bare, spread out, and needy. The best part? You’re only like this for me.”His breath grew heavier and faster like mine, his grip tightening, his body moving with no hesitation.I could barely see him, my eyes rolling back into my head, but I felt his hands moving fast as he stared at my pussycat, jerking to himself.“Today’
Last Updated : 2025-01-23The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 52: Dontrell’s POV: Fury and Obsession.
Blondes had always rubbed me the wrong way—icy, rebellious trouble. But Allison? She changed that. Her hair caught the light, her silver-blue eyes piercing through everything I thought I knew. She was ethereal, adoring—everything I shouldn’t want. And yet, in that instant, blonde became my favorite color.It was only in her presence that I realized a blonde could be beautiful. I traced her back, her body stirring slightly as though she recognized my touch, even in sleep. Her hair fanned across the pillow—magnetic, mine.I leaned closer, my voice soft with the kind of affection I hadn’t felt in years. “You’re in my veins, angel. The one thing I never saw coming.”My thoughts flickered back to earlier. Her face when she came. Forever burned in my memory.I sighed and pulled back, duty calling. I couldn’t afford to lose myself now.I slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb her. The warmth of her body was addictive, but duty called. I picked up my phone, scanning the me
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“How long has he been coming?” I asked, my voice low and firm, turning away from the row of CCTV screens. The space I stood in was well-furnished but eerily quiet—an expensive building tucked into the heart of my dock. From the outside, it seemed typical: shipping containers, the distant hum of water, and workers moving cargo. But beneath it all? Secrets—hidden vaults of cash, crates of unregistered weapons, and enough firepower for a militia.Fang, a few feet behind me, shifted and said, “A few weeks now. He’s been asking for your number. Claims he has a business but won’t share details—just says he wants to order goods.”I sighed and glanced back at the screens. The cameras captured every inch of my dock: stacked containers, dark alleys, and the waters leading to the National City Marine Terminal. The man sat in one of our waiting areas for strangers, not my office—no one entered there unless I allowed it. This was a neutral space, neither welcoming nor hostile, just unsettling enou
Last Updated : 2025-01-24The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 54: A Deal on Shaky Ground
“It’d be in your best interest to help me out here." Carter’s voice broke the silence, his tone calm, but there was a tension underneath it—a plea he was trying to mask.I leaned back on the table, narrowing my eyes at him. "I don’t care how much you’re willing to offer," I said, my voice flat and unyielding. "If you’d done your research completely, you’d know I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, and my clients are as stable as steel. New deals? They don’t move me anymore." My words cut through the air, low and threatening.Carter shifted, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Can you at least tell me why you’ve turned down my proposal without even hearing me out?" His voice wavered slightly like he was trying to keep it steady, but I caught the crack. His eyes looked almost glassy like he might cry. **Damn. Whose goddamn baby was this? I didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch long enough for him to sweat. I studied him again, this time with cold
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I sit in the foyer, numb to the cold leather chair beneath me. My thumb brushes over my phone screen, but my mind is blank. All I can think about is her. Every time I think about her, it’s like my lungs forget how to breathe.Her face, her body, her scent—they’re all I can think about. They cloud my mind, pull me under, and I can’t escape it. Since walking in, I’ve only wanted to storm into her room, hear her voice, and feel her presence. Pathetic, but true.The day she was brought to the mansion, I should’ve told Clayton that I would be the one to take her. I would be the one to claim her as part of our usual routine—sleeping with any woman trafficked by us. But something about her innocence, the purity in her, held me back.The next morning, when Clayton briefed me, laughing about how tight her virgin body was, how her cunt gripped his rod, something inside me snapped. I almost hit him, the anger boiling over, but I stopped myself. It was normal. But in that moment, I swore to mysel
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I slammed the door in Andrew’s face, heart pounding. The cold steel of the door behind me as I leaned on it didn’t ease the heat rising in my chest. Ugh, what the hell was wrong with me? I bit my lip, frustration bubbling up. Andrew didn’t deserve this—he hadn’t done anything wrong. But it wasn’t him I was angry at. It was Dontrell.You’re in my veins, angel. The one thing I never saw coming.” His words echoed in my head, mixing emotions I couldn’t untangle. All that just for me to wake up alone with cold sheets where he should have been—disappointment slicing through me.The Post-it note on my nightstand mocked me with its bold handwriting: I know I said I’d be here when you woke up, but—business calls. Surprise when I’m back. Love you. Love you? A surprise? As if that was enough to fill the gaping void he left behind when he disappeared.For a fleeting moment, I let myself believe that was where I belonged—right there in his arms. Fucking, bathing, and sleeping like I had no past,
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The docks were quiet at this hour but bright from the lights all around. The hum of cargo ships in the distance blended with the rhythmic lapping of water against steel. I stood at the edge of the pier, puffing on a cigarette. The glow of the lighter flickered before the smoke curled into the night.I thought back to the message I’d gotten earlier this afternoon, just before I’d left the office. The goods that landed when my men texted me weren’t mine. They weren’t contraband, but they weren’t my goods either.A car rolled in, headlights cutting through the mist. As it pulled up, my men swarmed the vehicle, surrounding it, not even letting the driver step out. I stood there, watching it all unfold. My phone buzzed in my pocket.“Yes?” I spoke into the phone without taking my eyes off the scene.“Allow him in,” I said, nodding toward the gate. “Let him come.”I stayed put, letting my men handle the visitor. Within moments, the car door opened, and the stranger stepped out, walking towa
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“Oooh... fuck.” The muffled curse slipped from my lips as Andrew’s cock thrust into me from behind. My knees dug into the mattress, and the heat of his body against mine sent shivers racing down my spine. The slap of our skin, the wet, obscene sounds of his length gliding in and out of my soaked cunt, echoed through the room. Every thrust felt deliberate, calculated, and relentless—each one driving deeper, grazing the very core of me like he was trying to claim every inch. The loud music from the TV barely masked our sounds.Andrew's grip on my hips tightened like a vice, one hand sliding up to my breasts to knead them roughly. I arched my back even further, spreading my legs wider to take him deeper. Heat and recklessness overwhelmed me.I bit down on the pillow, stifling my cries as Andrew leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear. "You like being fucked like this, don’t you?" His voice was a low growl, the filthy words sending a shiver down my spine.I could barely form a thought,
Last Updated : 2025-01-27
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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
