All Chapters of The Possessive Mafia King (English): Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

**Demetri's POV** I was sitting on the couch, waiting for Feurene’s message. Turns out, the bitch already confessed about our scheme and clearly threw me under the bus. I glanced at my phone on the center table just as it suddenly vibrated. “She’s here. She just arrived,” Feurene texted. I waited for her next message, especially since she was still typing. “I sent you a DM with a proof pic on Méssenger. Check it, dummy,” she added. I quickly opened the Méssenger app, and right there, I was greeted with a photo of Marcus and Snow... hugging. My grip on the phone tightened before I slammed it down on the table, eyes locked on the screen while I waited for Feurene’s next message. With a sigh, I dragged my hands down my face and closed my eyes. No surprise. Of course, she went to Marcus. My wife. She stopped by her sister's condo first, then accompanied her mom to the hospital. I don’t even know who she visited there. The guy I sent to tail her couldn’t even get in after she spotted

**Snow** "Your wound is swollen," I said as I finally removed the bandage wrapped around my husband's body. There were still a few wounds scattered across his skin. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity, though I tried not to show it. I was still angry at him. It seemed like he never stopped putting himself through pain. His earlier wounds had barely healed, and now here he was again—injured all over. I took a cotton ball and dabbed it with Betadine. Gently, I cleaned his wound. As I focused on tending to him, I couldn’t ignore how Demetri’s eyes never left me. His stare made me uneasy. "God, you're so beautiful," Demetri whispered admiringly. My eyes instinctively met his. His gaze dropped to my lips, and I saw him swallow hard. "Am I really that beautiful?" I couldn’t help but ask. "You're perfect, Snow," he murmured, his voice laced with undeniable desire. His eyes drifted from my lips down to my chest, prompting me to shift in my seat. I was only wearing a white tan

We had just started eating when I glanced at Demetri. He was peeling the lobster for me. A small, hidden smile tugged at my lips at what my husband was doing. “Thank you,” I said softly, and he gave me a sweet smile in return. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Marcus. His expression remained serious, but I knew his thoughts were elsewhere. I instinctively adjusted my posture, suddenly overcome by a familiar sense of unease. But my husband didn’t hold back. He was clearly being affectionate on purpose, making sure Marcus saw every moment of it; hoping to induce his jealousy. “Say ah…” Demetri coaxed gently. I paused, staring at him as he held out a spoon toward me. “Ah…” he repeated. He wasn’t going to stop unless I gave in, so I did. I took a bite and chewed slowly. I couldn’t help watching Marcus. It was obvious from his eyes, he was uncomfortable seeing Demetri and me like this, sweet and close. And I knew Demetri was doing it all deliberately, just to remind h

“Why don’t you start with a blówjob?” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “Show me what you’ve learned, honey,” he whispered. His belt hit the floor, and he swiftly unzipped his pants. “Kneel,” he commanded, his voice firm yet teasing. I obeyed without hesitation. Why would I resist? I’d asked for this lesson—a two-week crash course in the art of pleasure, guided by his careful instruction. As the last piece of fabric fell away, my breath caught, and my throat suddenly dry. I looked up, our eyes locking as he stood before me. His stance held no hesitation, no uncertainty... just pure, unfiltered hunger, waiting for me to satisfy it. “Open your mouth, baby girl,” he said, and I complied instantly. He guided himself toward my lips. It was massive. Honestly, I never got used to his size. I still don’t know how it fits. With my hands still bound, I traced my tongue over his sensitive tip, slow and deliberate. Demetri let out a sharp breath, his composure slipping for

**Snow** “Ma…” I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs. My mother immediately stood up and rushed toward me, wrapping me in a tight embrace. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy and confused by her behavior. “Did something happen?” I asked hesitantly. She sniffled, and I gently pulled away from her. “Why are you c-crying?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Y-your dad… he’s dead,” she sobbed. My lips parted slightly in shock. “I only found out an hour ago. Someone told me that your father’s dead, so I rushed over to speak with you in person,” she added before hugging me again. I didn’t know what to say. I never wished for his death. Because, first of all, even though I hated him, he was still my father. And second, despite not being a good dad to me and Ice, he still reached out to our mom to ask about us from time to time. I let out a few deep breaths as I gently rubbed my mom’s back. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I don’t know why… I was angry at that man, but it f