All Chapters of Owned By The Mafia Lord: Chapter 321 - Chapter 330

MARCELI kicked back in my chair, boots up on the desk, glass of whiskey hanging loose in my hand. The oak groaned under me, but I didn’t give a damn. I earned this seat. I earned everything. Sarah was mine now. Marco? That bastard was a ghost, a scared little whisper hiding in the dark, too broken to come for her.I took a slow sip, letting the burn roll down my throat, and smiled to myself. All the noise, all the fight she had when we first grabbed her… it was fading. Day by day. I saw it in her eyes. Less spark. Less bite. She was still holding on to Marco, sure. But that wouldn’t last. It never did. Not when you had no one left to believe in. Not when all the walls closed in.All I needed was time. Time and a little patience. Women like her, they didn’t fall easy — but when they did, they fell hard. I’d treat her good once she saw it. Once she stopped looking at me like I was the enemy. She didn’t get it yet, but she would. I’d give her everything. New clothes, good food, no more

MARCOWe moved slow down the corridor, shadows thick around us, every step tight and careful. The walls felt like they were closing in more with every turn. My gun was warm in my hand, not from use, but from how long I’d been gripping it. I didn’t loosen my fingers. Couldn’t. Not now.Denis came up beside me, pressing closer to the wall, breathing heavy but steady. His sleeve was darker than before — the blood still hadn’t stopped. But he kept moving. That’s the kind of man he was.“Its clear now Marcel knows,” Denis said, voice low.“I know that, Marcel right?” I responded, even though I already knew the answer.He nodded. “Maybe he thinks its not you. But he knows someone’s here. He’s spooked. Movement in the north wing, checkpoints locking up tighter.”I looked ahead, eyes narrowing at the half-lit hall we were creeping down. “What where Sarah is being kept?”“That’s the thing,” Denis said. “Still no extra traffic to the east side. Either Damien doesn’t believe it’s you, or he’s wa

MARCOThey dragged me in like a dog. Wrists tied behind the chair, ribs throbbing from the last round of hits. Two of Marcel’s boys kept my arms tight while another threw a punch right into my stomach. I grunted, leaned forward, and caught a second one across my jaw.I didn’t scream or beg.I just looked straight ahead at him.Marcel.Sitting in his chair like some king, legs crossed, drink in his hand. There was a sick grin across his face like he was watching a comedy show.The guards landed another hit. One to my shoulder. One to my gut again. My body was wrecked, but my mind stayed sharp. I kept staring at him. Letting him know I wasn’t broken.When they were done, I coughed and spit a mouthful of blood to the side, then looked right back at him.“You done?” I muttered.He laughed. “You still got that mouth on you.”I didn’t reply. I just kept staring. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for anything — an opening, a mistake. I wasn’t dying in this chair. I’d kill him. Somehow, some way. He w

MARCOI knew I had a second, maybe two. That was all it would take. I just needed the right opening. If I could shift my hand just a little, maybe fake like I was dropping the gun but catch Marcel off-guard—put a bullet right through him before he pulled the trigger on Sarah. That was the plan in my head. Fast. Clean. Over.I looked at him. Then at the gun pressed to her skull. My hand twitched.His eyes narrowed. “Don’t.”Sarah screamed as he pushed the gun harder into her.“Try to act smart again,” he said, voice calm, but not in a good way. “Try anything and I swear, her brains paint this floor.”My plan died right there.I bent down and set the gun on the ground. Real slow. Real careful. No sudden moves.He smiled. Sick bastard looked like he just won.I tried to glance to the side. Give Tony or Petrov some kind of signal. A nod. A blink. Anything.But Marcel caught it. Of course he did.He laughed. “You still think you’re running the show, huh?”He raised his voice. “Tony. Petrov

MARCO The doctor looked at me and paused. His face was calm, too calm. My heart dropped right there. Then he said it. “We lost the baby.. It was a boy...” I didn’t move. I didn’t blink. I just stood there, stuck in that moment. “What?” My voice came out hoarse. I wasn’t sure I said it right. The doctor sighed, slow. “There was too much trauma. Too much blood loss. We had to make a split-second decision, Mr Marco. It was either Sarah… or the baby.” I stepped forward, shaking my head. “No, no—don’t say that. Don’t fuckin’ say that to me.” He raised his hands a bit, like he was trying to calm me. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But we had to act fast. There was no time to—” “You could’ve saved both!” I barked. My voice cracked. “You didn’t try hard enough!” “There wasn’t enough time,” he repeated. “Her pulse dropped. She flatlined for a moment. We brought her back. If we hesitated, you’d have lost them both.” “No,” I muttered. I couldn’t breathe right. “No, you’re suppos