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Chapter 27: The Poisoned Memory
Last Updated:
2025-09-02 15:50:16
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The Mafia's Captive Doctor Chapter 29: "Don't touch me!"
The atmosphere in the car shifted.His role as savior was complete. Now, something else took its place.Marcus pulled the car to a stop in a deserted parking lot. Empty warehouses surrounded them. The engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound in the suffocating quiet.He turned in his seat to face her fully. His movements were different now. Less controlled. His breathing slightly labored."You are a remarkably beautiful woman, Doctor," he murmured.His voice lost its frantic edge and took on a low, appreciative purr. Something predatory flickered in his pale blue eyes.He swept his gaze over her like a physical touch. His fingers, soft and manicured, left the steering wheel and traced the line of her collarbone above the high neck of her dress.Ava flinched, pulling back against the leather seat. Her mind, fighting through the pharmaceutical haze, screamed warnings."A bit jumpy, aren't we?" he chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "After what you've been through, I suppose that's
The Mafia's Captive Doctor Chapter 28: This wasn't a rescue.
Dmitri's hand was a manacle on Ava's upper arm.His grip wasn't just firm. It was a bruising statement of his authority. A clear message of his contempt for the woman who had captivated his Pakhan's rival.He didn't lead her back through the opulent hall of whispering guests. He pulled her through a discreet, unmarked door beside the grand fireplace.Into a world she wasn't meant to see.The shift in atmosphere was a physical shock.The warm, lily-scented air of the reception vanished. Stolen by the sterile chill of a service corridor.The mournful notes of the string quartet were abruptly silenced. Replaced by the low, industrial hum of powerful ventilation systems.The corridor was a stark, unforgiving tube of white-painted concrete. Stretched out beneath the harsh glare of fluorescent lights.It was the building's ugly, functional skeleton.Far behind them, a figure detached itself from a shadowed doorway.Mikhail.He moved with impossible silence, keeping a careful, measured dista
The Mafia's Captive Doctor Chapter 27: The Poisoned Memory
The morning had been a silent, bruising war.Damian had woken with a dark, restless energy. His touch was possessive, almost punishing. He'd taken her again and again, his silence a stark contrast to the brutal ownership of his actions.He was reaffirming the claim he'd made in the Crucible. Branding her soul with his body until she was pliant with exhaustion.Now, Ava stood before the penthouse mirror. A stylist, a severe woman with a clipped French accent, held up a gown. It was exquisite black silk, cut daringly low in the back.The dress was designed to showcase every dark, possessive mark his fingers and teeth had left on her skin."The Pakhan's choice," the stylist said, her voice devoid of emotion.Ava stared at her reflection. At the exhaustion in her green eyes. At the diamond collar at her throat.A sudden spike of defiance cut through the fog of her grief. The last flickering ember of the woman she used to be."No," Ava heard herself say, her voice a raw whisper.Before the
The Mafia's Captive Doctor Chapter 26: The Leashed Dog
Katarina waited.The penthouse was a stage, and the wreckage was her set design. She sat in her high-backed, crimson throne, a queen presiding over the ruins of her own temper.A fresh glass of Stoli Elit rested in her uninjured hand, the crystal cold against her fingers. She wore a simple black silk robe, its fabric a whisper of shadow against her skin.The chaotic fury from earlier had been forged into something new. Something sharp, cold, and patient.The chime of the elevator was soft, but in the quiet room, it sounded like a guillotine dropping.Marcus Volkov strode in, his expensive burgundy suit a splash of color against the gloom. His silver hair was perfectly coiffed, but his face was tight with agitation, his corporate smoothness frayed at the edges.“That brute,” he began immediately, his voice a low, indignant hiss. He failed to notice the cold danger in the room, too wrapped up in his own perceived slights. “That animal and his little gutter-rat. He has no class, no appre
The Mafia's Captive Doctor Chapter 25: The Red Queen's Wrath
The sound of shattering crystal was the only thing that felt right.The Lalique vase, a gift from a Parisian admirer worth more than a luxury sedan, exploded against the far marble wall of the penthouse.Shards of glass rained down onto the black lacquer floor like frozen tears.Katarina Rostova didn’t watch it fall. She was already moving, a whirlwind of torn silk and volcanic rage.Her suite, usually a testament to opulent, blood-red control, was now a warzone.An overturned table bled champagne onto a Persian rug. A gold-leafed mirror was cracked from the impact of a thrown stiletto.This was her sanctuary. Her throne room. And it felt like a cage.Her breath came in ragged hisses. She stalked the room, every muscle coiled tight.He had humiliated her. Him. Damian. He had chosen that little gutter-rat, that dvornyazhka, over her. In public. In front of everyone. He had called their alliance, her future, unprofitable.A sharp, throbbing pain shot up her arm. She stopped, glaring dow
The Mafia's Captive Doctor Chapter 24: My Ghost in the Rain
The water had grown cold around them in the marble tub.Without a word, Damian lifted her from its cooling embrace. His movements were methodical as he dried her with a thick, black towel, each touch a claim rather than a comfort.The silk nightgown he pulled over her head whispered against her damaged skin like a shroud.He carried her to the massive bed and placed her on the dark sheets. She was a doll being set on a shelf, her limbs heavy, her will fractured. She lay where he put her, a silent testament to his victory.He sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, a predator watching its prey finally cease its struggle.When he finally spoke, his voice cut through the haze of her grief.“You think our story started in that clinic, milaya?”Ava flinched. The tremor that ran through her exhausted limbs was involuntary. His words were a cruel hook, anchoring her back into her body.“It started years ago. In the rain.”He watched her face, his gaze cataloguing every flicker of emotion
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