All Chapters of Owned By The Mafia Lord: Chapter 371 - Chapter 380

SARAHThe plane was quiet in that expensive way.. Everything smelled like soft leather and lemon-scented wipes. First class—Marco called it “VIP shit.” Whatever it was, it was way nicer than anything I’d ever flown in before.I was by the window, legs under the thick blanket they’d handed me when we boarded. I leaned into the seat, watching the sky out the window, nothing but clouds and blue. The wing cut through them like a knife sliding through whipped cream.I didn’t realize how high we were until I stared long enough to get a little dizzy. That always happened when I thought too long about flying, how something so heavy could just float like this.Next to me, Marco was already knocked out. His arms were folded across his chest, his face tilted toward me. His mouth slightly parted, jaw relaxed, hair messy from his fingers running through it one too many times.Just then the flight attendant showed up quietly.“Would you like your meal now, ma’am?” she asked, voice polite and low, l

SARAHI woke up slow. No rush. I just laid there for a while, eyes on the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything. This house… it still felt like home, but not fully. It was familiar, yeah, but there was something in the air, something quiet and cold. Like it was testing me, watching to see if I still fit into it. If I still belonged.I finally pulled myself out of bed, dragging my feet across the rug as I moved around. I started with the small things. Folding the laundry that had been sitting on that chair for two days now. Wiping down the dresser, even though it didn’t really need it. I opened the window and let the breeze roll in. It wasn’t the same as Italy’s breeze. It didn’t carry the smell of sea or vineyard. This one carried traffic and a little dust. But it was air. It was something.Once I finished cleaning up my room, I changed into something light and tied my hair up. I splashed my face, brushed my teeth, went through the motions like muscle memory. Then I walked do

MADELENA I walked across the room slowly, taking in everything. Every detail. Every corner. My eyes moved from the cheap candles to the smudges on the dresser, then to the small glass table by the window. There were fingerprints on it. A wine glass had left a faint ring. The curtains didn’t even reach the floor. The rug was crooked and thin. Worn edges. No weight. No sense of grounding.It was all wrong.Tasteless.This wasn’t a De Luca home. Not the one I grew up knowing. Not the one we fought to build with blood and silence. No marble, no pride in the bones of this place. Just comfort. Just softness. Just feelings.And I could smell her all over it. Sarah.This is what Marco married into? A house dressed in throw pillows and vanilla candles? Cheap comfort with no soul? The kind of home where rules get talked about, not followed.I moved toward the dresser and ran my fingers across the surface. Dust.She couldn’t even polish furniture right. A maid should know better. And if the mai

SARAHThe next morning started quietly, like any other. Sunlight pushed its way through the curtains, warming the edge of the bed. I was still halfway between sleep and awake when I felt Marco shift beside me. His arm slid around my waist, and I let out a small sigh as he pulled me close.“You’re up early,” I mumbled, still not opening my eyes.He kissed the curve of my shoulder. “I have to meet Maddalena downstairs.”I turned, my eyes half-lidded. “Again?”He nodded. “She wants to go over the family accounts.”I groaned, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. “So, you’re leaving me here. Alone. With her.”He grinned, brushing his nose against mine. “I’ll leave a note on your body. In case they need help identifying what’s left of you.”I gave him a lazy push. “Asshole.”“Hey. You said yes.”“Because you tricked me.”He kissed me again, softer this time. “You like danger.”“Clearly,” I muttered, rolling to my back.He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “If she starts throwing w

SARAHThe silence after Maddalena’s question didn’t feel like any silence I’d ever known. It was the kind that crawled into your bones, made the air thick, made the room feel smaller than it was. No one moved. Maddalena leaned back in her chair slowly, as if she hadn’t just peeled my skin off in front of the man I married. She sipped the last of her wine, her eyes still locked on me, calm and cold.Marco sat next to me, still. Not even his hand brushed mine. The only sound came from the quiet clink of silverware as a servant cleared one of the plates, then quickly left the room. Smart man.I stared at my own plate. The food was untouched. My appetite had left long ago, replaced by something hot and tight sitting in the middle of my chest. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to lose it.But I could feel it building. A slow heat. The kind you try to swallow until it burns.I looked up. My voice came out low, my throat tight. “I don’t know every damn name in my bloodline, no.”Marco lo