All Chapters of Claimed By The Mafia Boss: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

MARCO MARTINSCleo reached into the wine chiller and pulled out a bottle, her eyes sparkling with excitement.She laughed and grabbed another bottle, holding both like treasures. “I’m going to teach you how to really tap into the senses and enjoy every moment of this,” she said, looking radiant, like the morning sun.I was sprawled out on the couch, my legs hanging lazily over the edge, feeling relaxed but curious about her plan.Cleo set the bottles down on the stool in front of me with a gentle clink, ready to start our little adventure.She went to grab four wine glasses, balancing them carefully between her fingers, filling every bit of space in her hands.She placed them down gently and pulled a cushion over to sit close to me, her energy buzzing with excitement.“Are you ready?” Cleo asked, her voice full of enthusiasm, eage

ISABELLA GARCIA A shiny wine-red Mercedes, brand new and sleek, roared into the compound. The driver clearly didn’t care about its pristine condition, swerving recklessly around the carefully tended flower beds, nearly clipping the vibrant petals. When the car finally screeched to a stop, a loud cheer erupted from inside, full of carefree excitement. A woman stepped out, her hair neatly tucked away from her face, her figure concealed by oversized, masculine clothing that hung loosely on her frame. She wore a snapback cap turned backward, letting the sunlight fully reveal her face. She grinned widely, tossing the car keys up and catching them playfully, completely at ease. I stepped away from the front door, my curiosity pulling me toward her. A tight, painful knot twisted in my chest. I’d never seen this woman before, and I needed to know who she was and why she was here. As I got closer, her beauty struck me. A faint scar ran from her left cheek to her chin, but it did

ENZO MORETTI I leaned toward the guy in the mustard yellow shirt, laying out our needs clearly. “Streamline the workflow, handle client follow-ups, and manage transactions,” I said, keeping my tone firm and professional. It was a straightforward request for their team to understand. “Not just that,” he replied, shaking his head with a confident smile. “But that’s the core plan,” I countered, sliding their contract across the table toward him, emphasizing the basics we needed for our company’s website. They were a new software company, and we were considering hiring them to revamp our outdated site. “Yeah,” he said, leaning forward and tapping the contract. “We’re not just pitching you the basic plan. For a company like yours, the premium version is the way to go,” he added smoothly, his voice slick like a seasoned salesman. His persistence was hard to ignore, and I could tell he was pushing hard for the upsell. Across the room, Marco sat perched on a stool, watching the exchange

CLEO GARCIA The explosion was intense, reducing the car to a twisted, charred heap of metal in seconds. Everything nearby was thrown back by the force, including Isa and Ethan, who were caught in the blast’s violent push. Isa landed a few feet away from me, crumpled on the ground in a heap. I sprinted to her side, my heart racing, with Maria close behind me, her steps echoing my urgency. Isa stirred, letting out a soft groan of pain. She’d landed on her side, her hands instinctively clutching her head for protection. Her right elbow was badly bruised, and a thin stream of blood trickled from her hairline, running down her cheek and dripping onto the rough asphalt. I gently touched her face, my fingers trembling as she struggled to open her eyes, her expression dazed and pained. “Ethan!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I scanned the chaotic scene, my eyes darting frantically to find him. I turned to Maria, who was right behind me, her face pale but focused. “He’s a seve

ENZO MORETTIMarco wanted to sit beside Cleo. I moved to the side, and he slid in between us. Cleo had been quiet, but as soon as Marco came over, she turned to him. “Where did you keep your phone?” she asked. Then she turned to me, adding, “Where do the two of you keep your phones? Isn’t it supposed to be your phone for a reason?” “Cleo, you’re stressed,” Marco said, trying to hold her, but she pulled away from his grip. “And you’re both not stressed enough,” she shot back, spitting the words out. She held her head in her hands. “How did this happen?” Just then, the doctor walked out, stealing everyone’s attention. We all turned to her at once, desperate for news. “We’ve finished doing a full exam on her,” the doctor said in a professional, detached tone. “She needs to rest for a few hours before she’s back on her feet.” “Can we see her?” I asked. “Absolutely.” “And the little boy? How’s he?” I added. I caught a flicker of detachment in the doctor’s face, and something els