All Chapters of Claimed By The Mafia Billionaire : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The stairs of the private jet unfolded with a mechanical hiss, the sound sharp and final like a knife sliding from its sheath. The white steps gleamed under the pale morning sun, still kissed with dew as if the runway itself had been waiting for their return.First Dysis walked out, the faint click of her heeled boots touching metal reverberating over the silence. Her frame was hugging a navy trench coat, belted tightly at the waist, and the hem fluttered in the chilly breeze like a flag of quiet resistance. Her dark hair, sleek and parted to the side, was twisted into a low twist, the kind of easy grace required without asking for it. Under the coat, black silk shadows and disciplined lines suggested something armor-like less a dress, more a declaration.Behind her, Alexander emerged like a storm in a tailored suit obsidian-black with a deep charcoal shirt beneath, open just at the collar, no tie. His silver cufflinks, bearing the Levi crest, caught the morning light like small, deli

Vee walked back into the room slowly, bringing a tray with a glass of water and two pale capsules nestled inside a small ceramic bowl. A soft click came from the door. In dim light, the tray sparkled and reflected the sparkle of the crystal wall lamps around it, giving the room a warm glow. The soft whisper of her boots cut through the heavy silence in the air as she moved slowly across the thick, fluffy carpet. There was a delicate kind of quiet that was heavy with too many feelings and words that were not said. The soft velvet furniture and small gold accents in the room seemed to know—they were caught between stress and release, like the quiet before a storm.Vee spoke with a gentler, more measured tone than normal. "Lucian advised taking them before bed," she remarked, gently arranging the tray on the nightstand next to the bed. Her gaze stayed on Dysis, observing the worn-out sag in her shoulders and the subtle lines of tension starting to show up on her face. Under the low ligh

The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows of the Levi estate's drawing room, throwing golden hues across the polished marble floors and elegant furnishings. The space radiated classic beauty with its lofty ceilings and detailed moldings. Overhead hung a crystal chandelier whose facets caught the sunlight and distributed it into a rainbow of hues.Alexander sat by the fireplace, his sharp features softly illuminated by the flames. Wearing a custom charcoal suit, he radiated authority with a straight posture and focused eyes. Apart from the distant chirping of birds outside, the only sound in the fire was soft cracking. Nani entered the room, her footfall light on the marble floor. Her dark hair, flecked with silver, was pushed back into a sophisticated chignon. She walked elegantly despite her age; her brown eyes revealed a depth of knowledge and warmth. She wore a basic gold necklace against her collarbone and a deep burgundy dress that matched her complexion."Alexand

The automobile hummed gently as it negotiated the twisting road, its tires rolling over the well-kept asphalt. The engine's rhythmic sound seemed to resound in the calm of the evening, almost as if the car were a part of the silent symphony encirclement. Outside, the delicate colours of the twilight sky mixed with the deep shadows of the approaching night as the fading sunshine merged with the encroaching darkness. With her hands tightly closed in her lap, Nani sat in the rearseat and her body stiff and strained. From the pressure, her fingers had turned white, and the leather of the car seat appeared to press back on her, the tightness in her chest was building with every second. Though her attention was far-off, as if her mind were elsewhere caught in a whirl of ideas she was unable to escape, she stared out the window. The weight of her daughter's dangerous circumstances made her heart heavy. Dispersion. Nani's stomach turned over at the idea of her, vulnerable and open to the da

Cinnamon and sugar still smelt, like a secret clinging to the warmth of the kitchen. It curled softly around the marble counters and the golden afternoon light, weaving itself into the corners of the mansion that rarely held such sweetness. Dysis was at the counter spreading whipped vanilla frosting over the top layer of the cake with deliberate fingers. Her hair, pulled carelessly back, was flecked with flour. Her apron was covered in powdered sugar and streaks of buttercream, yet today she was calm—a terrible stillness that did not quite reach her eyes. Following her lead, Nani moved next to her with subdued hands, trying not to overreach. She did not speak very much. Every syllable seemed like walking on thin glass. Then I heard the sound of a door. The front door clicked open; then the solid, distinct thud of boots upon wooden flooring.The hand of Dysis stopped. She was aware of the sound. Alexander. She needed not to turn around to find it was him. The change in the air