Lahat ng Kabanata ng Owned By The Mafia Lord: Kabanata 251 - Kabanata 260

SARAHI sat on the edge of the bed, watching Marco’s unconscious form. His chest rose and fell steadily, his face slack with sleep, completely unaware of the storm he had left in my head.I should have just walked away. I should have left the second I saw him like that—drunk, shirtless, and muttering her name. Aisha. His so-called secretary.If that was even true.A bitter laugh bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed it down. The thought alone made my stomach twist. My mind wouldn’t stop running through the possibilities. What if he had been lying to me all along? What if she wasn’t just his secretary? What if I had been stupid enough to believe all of his excuses while they—I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled through my nose.No. I needed to calm down. I needed to wait. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t help anything.But God, how could I not?Everything about tonight had been wrong. The party, the forced smiles, the tension in the air I hadn’t been able to shake. And then to find him

SARAHI couldn’t breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating, like it was being sucked out of the room as I stared at my phone screen, my hands trembling so hard that I could barely keep hold of it. My chest tightened, the pressure unbearable, like someone had wrapped a fist around my heart and was squeezing.The words blurred before my eyes, but they were already seared into my mind, each letter carving itself deep into my soul, leaving behind nothing but devastation.Marco De Luca Caught in a Late-Night Rendezvous with His Secretary—Compromising Photos Emerge from the Party.I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my stomach twisting violently as I scrolled down. Maybe I was seeing things wrong. Maybe there was some ridiculous explanation for this. Maybe—But no.There he was.Marco.My Marco.His shirt undone, his arm hanging lazily around Aisha’s waist, her lips too close to his ear, whispering something that made his lips curl into that damn smirk—the one I used to think was just for me. M

ISABELLAI paced around my suite, the plush carpet soft under my feet as I swirled the deep red wine in my glass, my eyes locked on the glaring numbers on my screen. My account balance had skyrocketed. The money kept rolling in, payment after payment, all from the media outlets desperate to get their hands on the pictures I’d given them of Marco.I let out a slow, satisfied breath, shaking my head with a smirk. I knew I’d make a decent sum from this, but this? This was beyond what I expected. The journalists were practically throwing cash at me, and for what? A few strategically captured images, a little bit of well-placed dirt, and suddenly, Marco was the talk of every major news station.I took a sip, letting the warmth of the wine settle in my chest. The best part? He didn’t even see it coming.Marco had always walked around with that arrogant, untouchable air, acting like his empire was bulletproof. Like no one could ever take him down. But even the biggest sharks bled when cut de

ISABELLADamien leaned back in his seat, swirling his whiskey in slow circles, that same lazy smirk stretched across his face. He looked completely unbothered, like none of this—none of the work we’d put in, none of the risks—was anything more than some casual game to him. His fingers tapped against the side of his glass, his head tilting as he watched me with a mix of amusement and mild curiosity.“What could possibly be wrong, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “As far as I’m concerned, our plans to take down Marco have been nothing short of impeccable.” He took a slow sip, savoring the whiskey like he had all the time in the world. “We haven’t even had to do much, and the De Luca family is already struggling. They’re crumbling from the inside out, Isa. You should be thrilled.”I stared at him, my fingers twitching on the table. He had no idea.“You really should take a chill pill for once.” He exhaled, shaking his head as if I were the one being unreasonab

DAMIEN I watched Isabella walk away, her head high, her steps firm, like she hadn’t just refused me for the hundredth time. I smirked, shaking my head as I leaned back against the couch, swirling the drink in my hand.Persistent. That’s what she was. A woman who knew what she wanted—or at least thought she did. Most women melted the moment I so much as looked at them. But Isabella? She resisted, turned me down like I was some desperate bastard begging for a scrap of attention. It was almost amusing.Almost.Because at the end of the day, she was still mine to have. Whether she liked it or not.I took a slow sip of my drink, my mind still turning over the interaction. She wanted control, that was clear. She thought saying no to me gave her power, that it kept her in charge of the situation. But I knew women like her. They built walls, thinking they were protecting themselves, not realizing they were only making the chase more interesting. Sooner or later, those walls would crack, and