All Chapters of Owned By The Mafia Lord: Chapter 471 - Chapter 480

THIRD PERSON Marco sat across from Guido at the long metal table. The warehouse around them was cold, quiet, the sound of boots and chairs creaking filling the space. Marco’s men stood behind him, watching every move. Guido’s men mirrored them on the other side, arms crossed, eyes sharp. The smell of smoke and oil clung to the air.Marco leaned forward, his eyes locked on Guido. “We’re not going to sit here all night trading looks. You know why I came. This feud ends now. You hand over the blocks you took, pay what you owe, or I’ll end it my way.”Guido gave a small laugh, leaning back in his chair like this was nothing more than a friendly talk. “Your way. Always so direct, De Luca. Always trying to rush the board. But tell me—what happens after you ‘end it your way’? More blood, more heat from the cops, more vultures circling? You and I both know neither of us walks away clean.”Marco didn’t blink. “Then pick your poison. But you’re not walking out of here with both the territory a

SARAHI left Marco’s office with my chest heavy and my throat tight from holding back sobs. His words still cut through me, over and over, sharper every time I replayed them. My face was wet, and my breath came uneven, like I couldn’t catch enough air. I felt like I had been stripped bare in front of him, left with nothing but the guilt sitting heavy in my stomach.Why had I followed him? Why hadn’t I stayed back? Why did I make it so easy for Guido to use me? I didn’t mean to. I never wanted to embarrass Marco. I never wanted to be anyone’s weapon against him. But that’s what had happened. That’s what Guido made me.I stopped outside the door and leaned on it, my palm pressed flat against the wood. I lowered my head, my forehead touching the door as if maybe it could connect me to him again. I could hear him inside, pacing back and forth, his steps sharp and angry. Now and then something hit the desk, a hard thud that made me flinch even though I wasn’t in the room. He was breaking a

SARAHHis mouth was still on mine when I tried to move back, but Marco didn’t let me. His hand slid to the back of my neck, his grip steady, pulling me into the kiss until I had no choice but to melt into him. My push against his chest meant nothing. He broke the kiss only long enough to press me flat against the table with his body, the weight of him holding me still. His eyes locked on mine, sharp, burning, his voice low and rough.“You don’t get to run from me, Sarah.”My breath caught, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “I wasn’t running.”A faint smirk curved his lips. He leaned in, his mouth brushing my ear as his breath sent a shiver through me. “Liar. I feel it in you. You want to push me away, make me chase you, but I’m telling you right now, I won’t let you.”His hand traced my jaw, slow, deliberate, sliding down my neck until his thumb pressed lightly against the hollow of my throat. My knees went weak. His palm drifted lower, over my waist, the touch maddening in how

GUIDOThe room carried a silence that felt alive, broken only by the low murmur of men’s voices and the sound of glasses meeting wood. The smoke hung heavy, curling slow above us, pressing down on the air until it felt thick. I sat at the head of the table, the weight of their eyes on me. Daniel was on my right, his expression sharp, while the others sat scattered, restless but hungry. Nights like this always carried weight, the kind that pressed into your bones.One of the men leaned forward, his smirk cutting through the haze as he lit his cigarette. He blew out a stream of smoke and let the words slide from his mouth with ease. “Marco ain’t the same. He’s gone soft. That girl’s got him by the throat.”The remark earned a chorus of low chuckles around the table. Another man spoke up, his tone sharper, bitter even. “He used to walk into a room and everyone shut their mouths. No one dared breathe wrong around him. Now? He’s chasing after her like some lovesick kid. It’s pathetic.”The

SOFIAThe smoke from Guido’s lounge clung to my clothes even after I left. I walked fast, heels sharp against the pavement, but inside I was slower, heavier. His words kept circling in my head. Knife. That was what he called me. Not woman, not secretary, not ally. Knife.I should have been flattered. Knives were sharp, dangerous, not to be played with. But the way he said it made me feel like something left in a drawer, waiting for his hand to pull me out when it suited him. That was what I could not stand.I went home, closed the door, and leaned against it. The apartment was dark, the city humming through the window, but the silence in here pressed harder. I set my purse on the table and poured myself a drink, the cheap kind that burned down the throat. It steadied me enough to breathe.Guido thought I would serve him. That I would fold my ambition into his pocket and wait for crumbs. He wanted me to play the loyal knife, cutting when he said, staying quiet when he had no use for me