All Chapters of Owned By The Mafia Lord: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

ISABELLA The crisp afternoon air greeted me as I stepped out of the café, my heels clicking confidently against the pavement. I felt invincible. Sarah’s defeated expression was seared into my memory, fueling the satisfaction coursing through me. “Too easy,” I muttered to myself, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. The sun was warm on my skin, and everything seemed brighter, as if the universe itself was congratulating me. Sarah was finally stepping aside, and soon, Marco would be all mine—just as it should have been from the start. I hailed a cab, deciding on a whim that I deserved something better than my usual routine. Somewhere upscale, somewhere that matched the victorious glow I carried. I gave the driver the name of a ritzy hotel bar I’d been to once before, a place where the drinks were overpriced and the atmosphere exuded exclusivity. As we weaved through the streets, I allowed myself a moment to revel in my triumph. Marco would be waiting for me, clueless as eve

SARAHMarco’s gaze held mine, steady and unyielding, as he stood by the kitchen door. For a moment, the world around me seemed to fade. The clinking of utensils, the hum of the stove—it all melted into the background.He tilted his head slightly, motioning for me to follow him out. His presence filled the space, leaving no room for hesitation.I nodded at Martha, who gave me a look that was equal parts curiosity and encouragement. “I’ll be back,” I told her softly, setting down the knife.I followed Marco out into the hallway. My heart raced, the weight of everything I wanted to say pressing down on me. This was it—the moment I’d decided I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. No more avoiding the truth. No more brushing past the lies.When we reached the living room, he stopped and turned to face me. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight.“Sarah,” he started, his voice low and careful, like he was trying to pick the right words.Before he could continue, I blurted out, “Marco, I

SARAHThe living room was bustling with activity, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the pounding in my chest. Marco sat across from me, scrolling through his tablet, completely focused on the seating arrangements. His sharp focus somehow made me feel calmer, even though my thoughts were racing.I leaned over the list in front of me, pretending to check it carefully. “So, are we sticking to the original table placements, or are we moving the contractors closer to the center?”Marco glanced up briefly. “Closer to the center. They’ll feel more valued that way. This deal’s been a long time coming. We need everything to go off without a hitch tonight.”“Got it,” I replied, scribbling a quick note. I nodded as if his words didn’t rattle me, but inside, I was already rehearsing how tonight would unfold. Isabella’s lies were about to be exposed, and I needed to stay calm.Marco noticed my pause. “You okay? You’ve been unusually quiet today.”I forced a smile. “Just focused. There’s a lot to g

ISABELLA I ran out of the house as if the walls themselves were closing in on me. My heels scraped against the pavement, but I didn’t care. The sound of the crowd’s laughter, their murmurs, their judgment still echoed in my ears. I couldn’t breathe. It was like my chest was caving in, the air too thick for me to swallow.I reached the gate and waved desperately at the first cab I saw, nearly stepping into the street to make it stop. The car screeched to a halt, and I yanked the door open without waiting for the driver to say a word.“Just drive,” I snapped, throwing myself into the seat. My voice cracked, and I hated how weak I sounded.“Where to, miss?” he asked, his tone polite but wary.“I said just drive!” My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at anyone. I slammed the door shut and pressed myself against the window, clutching my bag like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.The cab pulled away, and the moment the

SARAHIt had been a week since the party, and I still wasn’t over my “anger”—not completely, anyway. Okay, maybe I was, but Marco didn’t need to know that just yet. I wanted to enjoy the little game we had going on. He’d been relentless in his efforts to apologize, and honestly, I was having way too much fun watching him grovel.I got up and started my usual morning cleaning routine.Starting in the living room, I fluffed the pillows and wiped down the coffee table. My thoughts drifted, as they often did lately, to Marco. He had always been a proud man—too proud sometimes. But this past week, he’d been on a mission to win me back, and his creative attempts were something else.This morning, it seemed, was no exception.As I moved to dust the shelves, I noticed a yellow sticky note stuck to the edge of a photo frame.“Good morning, my queen. The house isn’t as bright as your smile, but it’ll do. – M.”I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Really, Marco?”