Semua Bab Owned By The Mafia Lord: Bab 41 - Bab 50

SARAHI woke up to the sound of a soft knock on the door, followed by Gloria’s cheerful voice. “Good morning, Sarah. I brought you some breakfast.”I rubbed my eyes, feeling the grogginess of sleep still clinging to me. “Morning, Gloria.”She wheeled a tray into the room, and the smell of fresh coffee and toast filled the air. “How did you sleep?” she asked, setting the tray on the small table beside my bed.“Better than I expected,” I admitted, sitting up slowly. “What’s on the menu?”Gloria smiled, lifting the lids off the dishes. “We have scrambled eggs, toast, some fruit, and a bit of yogurt. And, of course, coffee.”My stomach growled in response, and I realized just how hungry I was. “That sounds amazing. Thank you.”She handed me a cup of coffee first. “Cream and sugar?”“Just a splash of cream, please.”As she prepared my coffee, I picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. It was warm and buttery, just what I needed to start the day. “This is really good.”Gloria chuckled. “

SARAHI couldn’t believe what was about to happen. My heart pounded in my chest, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. This couldn’t be real. I had to stop it. I ran to where Marco was seated, dropping to my knees before him.“Marco, please,” I begged, my voice trembling. “Rethink this punishment. They don’t deserve this. It’s all my fault. I’ll take the whippings for both of them. Just don’t hurt them, please.”He looked down at me with cold, unfeeling eyes. Without a word, he flung me off him, his strength sending me sprawling to the floor. I gasped in pain, struggling to get up.“Sarah, you need to see what happens when people make silly decisions around me,” Marco said, his voice low and menacing. “Actions have consequences.”I crawled back to him, my desperation growing. “Please, Marco, they had nothing to do with it. I was the one who planned everything. Punish me instead. Whip me as much as you want, but let them go.”He scoffed, shaking his head. “You really think I’ll change my

MARCOI flung my fist on the table pacing back and forth, trying to make sense of everything. The latest attempt to intercept Marcel had failed, and my frustration was mounting. Tony turned to me looking equally worn out but determined."Marco," he started, his voice steady. "I know you're upset about this last attempt, but we're not giving up. We’ll get him."I slammed my fist on the desk. "Tony, we've been at this for weeks. Every lead turns into a dead end. It's like he's always one step ahead."Tony took a deep breath. "I get it. Marcel's slippery, but that doesn't mean he's invincible. We just need to change our approach, think outside the box."I looked at him, my anger simmering just below the surface. "What do you suggest? We've tried everything. Surveillance, informants, hacking his communications. Nothing works."Tony nodded, understanding my frustration. "Yeah, but maybe we’re looking in the wrong places. Marcel’s a ghost, right? He operates in the shadows. What if we use t

SARAHWalking down the hallway with the maid, my heart pounded with every step. The air felt thick with anticipation, and I tried to steady my breathing. The maid knocked on Marco’s door, her knuckles rapping sharply against the wood. “Miss Sarah is here,” she announced, her voice steady and formal. She turned to me, offering a polite curtsey before walking away, leaving me to face whatever lay beyond that door.“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in my chest, and stepped into the room.Marco’s room was lavish, more so than I had imagined. The deep, rich colors of the decor exuded a certain opulence, yet there was an unexpected warmth that made the space feel oddly welcoming. It was a stark contrast to the man who occupied it—so much like him, yet so different. I realized then that I had never been in here before, and the thought intrigued me. I couldn’t help but take in every detail, my eyes roving over the int

SARAHWhen we arrived at the party, the first thing I noticed was the elegant atmosphere. The grand ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers, and the guests, all dressed in their finest attire, moved gracefully across the floor. The theme of the night was a masquerade, and as we walked in, a server handed us both ornate masks.I looked at my mask, a delicate creation with silver and blue feathers. I slipped it on, feeling a little more hidden, a little safer behind its cover. Marco’s mask was black and gold, giving him an even more intimidating presence.As we walked further into the party, I took in the scenery. The room was filled with opulence—rich, dark wood paneling, plush velvet drapes, and tables set with elaborate centerpieces. The music, a soft classical piece, added to the air of sophistication.Marco’s arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him. The possessiveness of the gesture made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to keep a neutral expression. He glan