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Chapter 70: Falling Deeper Into You
Last Updated:
2025-02-04 22:40:04
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 71—A Cold Glance.
The atelier was a temple of luxury, a world of exclusivity draped in soft golden light and perfumed with the scent of the finest fabrics. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over mannequins adorned in breathtaking gowns—each an unapologetic display of opulence. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected the essence of high fashion, while polished marble floors whispered beneath the weight of designer heels. The air hummed with the quiet rustle of silk and hushed conversations between tailors and their elite clientele.As I stepped further into the private showcasing room, Lena, one of the senior attendants, approached with a practiced elegance, a glass of red wine in her delicate fingers. She handed it to me with a reverent nod.“Here, Mrs. Blade. To keep you refreshed while we fit you into the gown,” she said smoothly.I took the glass, swirling the liquid idly, watching how the deep crimson coated the glass. "Thank you," I murmured, my eyes already scanning
Last Updated : 2025-02-05The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 72: Lies, Desire, and Leverage.
I ran into the small storage room, my heart racing in my chest, and Andrew followed close behind. His eyes darted across the quiet hallway before he shut the door behind us quietly, then he locked it. The only sound was our breathing and the pulse of my own panic as I paced in the small, cramped room, shelves stacked high with boxes."Andrew... hell has broken loose; we’ve been caught." I wept, voice shaking. My fingers twitched nervously against the fabric of my dress. My eyes darted around the room, searching for anything to focus on, but all that was in sight was fabrics, machines, and boxes. I wasn’t sure if it was the fear, guilt, or the danger looming over us now that was making me shiver, but my knees felt weak, and my head was as heavy as lead.He grabbed my shoulders gently, forcing me to face him. "Calm down. Let me see the text again," he said, his voice low but steady. Andrew wasn’t panicking like I was, and for someone whose life was on the line, his calmness triggered me
Last Updated : 2025-02-06The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 73: The Price of Silence.
I stood across from Andrew in the cold, dimly lit storage room. The air was thick with the weight of my breath, the silence pressing in on me as I watched him type furiously on his phone. His forehead had sweat all over it, and his eyes darkened with fury. The message he sent was short, clipped, and dangerously precise.“I have a job for you. I need eyes on someone right now.”I swallowed the lump in my throat, my tears still fresh from the fear gnawing at my insides. "Who was that, Andrew?" I whispered, panic bubbling inside me. "We have to be careful. We can’t let anyone else find out about us."Andrew didn't look up, his fingers moving relentlessly across the screen. He glanced at me with a cold, controlled stare, his lips thinning.“You don’t need to worry, Allison. I know how to handle this. I’m not panicking, and you shouldn’t either. I’ve been in worse situations, and each time I’ve escaped them. This blackmailer is in it for money, not revenge. He wouldn’t play this game if he
Last Updated : 2025-02-06The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 74: Eyes that Dissect.
He didn’t say a word. His eyes locked onto me, cutting through the air with cold intensity. My stomach churned, but I fought to mask the panic clawing at me.His lips curled into a smile, sharp and calculating. His hand shot out to me, his jaw tightening as he spoke. "You tell me, Allison," he said, his voice low, measured, yet with a dangerous bite beneath it. "Why I can’t stop staring at you when you make my chest burn, raise my temperature, and you look so damn good, even after spending thirty minutes in the toilet, dumping a mess yet walking out like a goddess?"I laughed, but it came out tight. "Don't say that here," I muttered, moving toward him, grabbing his hand.He smirked. “Say what? That my wife could walk out of the bathroom—the least favorite room of anyone—and still look good?” His words were playful, but there was something deep in his eyes.I smiled, glancing around at the reception. Everyone—ushers and staff—was looking at us. Eyes wide, taking in the scene. Before I
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“Answer me, Allison,” Dontrell’s voice was low, edged with a warning, his gaze locked onto mine like a predator closing in. “Who the fuck was that calling you, and why are you ignoring their calls?”My throat felt dry. I swallowed, trying to keep my expression neutral, but his fingers on my thigh tightened. He wasn’t just waiting for an answer—he was demanding one. The air in his office suddenly felt heavier.I let out a small, calculated sigh, reaching for my phone with feigned annoyance. Shaking my head, I set it down beside me, like the call had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. He was watching me too closely, dissecting every flicker of emotion on my face. I couldn’t crack.“It’s the delivery guy for the heels I ordered,” I lied smoothly, slipping my phone back onto the chair. My voice held just the right amount of irritation as if this was nothing but a stupid mix-up. “He was confirming the address again. I told him to check his system and hung up, but he keeps bother
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The air in Dontrell’s office was thick—suffocating with want.I laid back flat against the plush leather of his sofa, my thighs spread as he knelt between them, one strong hand wrapped around my throat, the other buried beneath my panties. Two fingers curled inside me, each stroke ruthless, sending a flood of heat through my veins. His mouth was on me—hot, consuming—tongue lashing over my nipple, teeth scraping just enough to make me whimper.His grip on my neck tightened, forcing my gaze to meet his. Dark. Unrelenting."I’m not just going to give you what you want," he murmured against my skin, voice dripping with command. "I’m going to take everything. Every breath, every moan, every last drop of sanity until all you know is me."I tried to respond, tried to form words, but all that came out was a desperate moan as his fingers drove deeper, fucking me with a pace that made my back arch. The slick, obscene sound of his fingers moving inside me filled the office, blending with the wet
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His cock thrust into my cunt without warning, stretching me wide, and I moaned—loud, needy. He started slow, painfully slow, dragging out every inch of friction. I let out a strangled moan, my body arching in response."Needy little thing," Dontrell mused, his tone dripping with mockery as he slid deeper inside me. His hand cracked down against my ass, the sharp slap making me gasp. The sting melted into heat as his fingers kneaded the flesh, his grip punishing, possessive.I whimpered as his fingers trailed lower, teasing my clit from behind as he banged me."Look at you," he murmured, voice dark with satisfaction. "So fucking wet. You love this, don’t you? Love it when I put you in your place.” "Yes," I gasped, my fingers gripping the edges of the desk."Say it," he ordered, his pace faster, drawing out my desperation."I love it," I whimpered, rocking back against his hand, chasing more. "I love it when you ruin me." He chuckled, dark and knowing. "Good girl." Then, without war
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The disturbing sound of a ringing phone dragged me from the depths of sleep. I groaned loudly into the pillow. It was one of those deep sleeps where your body refuses to move, and the world outside the blankets doesn’t exist.The ringing persisted.I grumbled, stretching my hand out blindly toward the nightstand, fingers fumbling until they closed around the phone. Without looking, I swiped to silence it.Wait.I blinked groggily.It wasn’t my phone. It was Dontrell’s.The name Carter flashed on the screen. One of his men, maybe? Or a colleague?I exhaled, letting the phone drop back onto the stand, and burrowed my face deeper into the soft pillow.Barely had my body melted back into comfort when another call broke the quietness.I hissed in annoyance, reaching blindly for the phone again. This time, when I glanced at the screen, my sleep-ridden mind snapped into full awareness.Clayton.I rubbed my eyes, sitting up immediately. Clayton? Calling Dontrell? That shouldn’t be a shock—they
Last Updated : 2025-02-09
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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
