All Chapters of Owned By The Mafia Lord: Chapter 281 - Chapter 290

SARAHMarco’s breathing was soft beside me, but it wasn’t peaceful. His jaw stayed tight, and his brow kept twitching like he was fighting someone in his dreams. I lay there curled into him, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of his arm across me. Warm, steady, but heavy like everything else about him. The house was quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the sound of him breathing, but my mind was loud. I kept thinking about the way he walked in tonight, smelling like smoke and blood and that sharp scent of gunpowder.Dinner felt like a lifetime ago. The way we laughed while folding baby clothes, how he tried to act like the mob boss folding tiny onesies was beneath him. It had been nice, like a flash of the life we used to have before this war dragged him deeper into the dirt.I couldn’t sleep. I just stared at him. Even now, resting on the couch, with his head tilted back and his hand still half on my belly, he looked like a man ready to wake up swinging. I rubbed my t

SARAHMy heart slammed against my ribs as Marco’s words sank in, ringing inside my head over and over. “They found us.” The beach felt like it got smaller, like the whole world shrunk to just the two of us sitting there in the fading light. The soft crash of waves, the breeze off the ocean, the smell of salt in the air—all of it faded behind that one sentence. Marco’s body was already moving, already shifting into that other side of him. The side I hated. The one that made him untouchable and far away, like no matter how close I stood, I could never quite reach him.I just sat there for a second, watching him. The man who had been laughing with me minutes ago, struggling to set up a picnic table like a regular guy, now moved like the man who ran half of New York. His face was stone. Cold. Like every wall I’d been trying to chip away at all these years just slammed back into place. He pulled out his burner phone, barking short, clipped orders to whoever was on the other end. His voic

SARAHWe were still crouched low behind the grass when Marco gave me the signal. His hand brushed against mine and then pointed straight ahead. Through the tall grass, I spotted it too—the Hilux parked with two Rossis pacing around it, just outside the floodlight’s reach. There was a gap, not wide but enough. I could feel Marco watching me, making sure I understood. My pulse was hammering so loud I swore they could hear it.Marco mouthed, “Stay on me,” then started moving. I followed, every inch of me tense as we crept low. The night felt heavier, thicker, like the air itself didn’t want to give us room to breathe.Marco moved like he had done this a hundred times before. His steps were light, careful, and fast. Mine, shaky. I was fighting not to trip on the roots or snap a twig that would give us away.When we got close enough, Marco paused, eyeing the first guard leaning lazily against the truck, rifle slung low. In one motion, Marco slipped behind him, wrapped an arm around the guy

MARCOThe rest of the ride was dead quiet. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the tires rolling against the road. I kept my hands steady on the wheel, but my eyes kept drifting toward Sarah. She was staring straight ahead, eyes locked on nothing, her body stiff. I could feel it coming off her, that storm brewing inside. She wasn’t like me. She wasn’t meant for this kind of blood and dirt.She killed a man tonight. Pulled the trigger and watched him drop. I could still see it in her face, the way her jaw clenched afterward, how her hands shook when she thought I wasn’t looking. I wondered what was running through her head. Was it guilt? Fear? Shock? Hell, maybe all of it.I tried to tell myself she’d be fine. But deep down, I knew that was bullshit. My world does not leave you fine.As we got closer to the estate, I felt that familiar weight pressing on my chest. The streets were too calm, like they didn’t know the kind of chaos that just happened out there. The city lights w

MARCELI lifted the gun, aiming for the center of the target, steadying my breath as I pulled the trigger. The first shot hit, the second landed a little off, the third barely grazed where I wanted. I lowered the gun, exhaling slowly. Three out of five. That wasn’t good enough.I turned to the guard standing a few feet away. “Bring me the other model,” I said, shaking my head as I set the gun down. My aim wasn’t usually off. Maybe it was the drink in my hand. Maybe it was the news I hadn’t gotten yet but could feel coming.The guard nodded quickly and disappeared. I poured another glass, taking a slow sip, letting the liquor burn its way down. The air in the room was thick with smoke and gunpowder, a mix I usually found calming, but not tonight.Then the door creaked open. I didn’t turn. I knew hesitation when I heard it. Someone was about to tell me something I wouldn’t like.“Boss,” the man started, voice uneven. “There’s been… a situation.”I swirled my drink, watching the amber li