Todos los capítulos de The Possessive Mafia King (English): Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 150

3 YEARS AGO... I was gripping his wedding ring tightly, my hand shaking, barely able to see clearly because of the tears welling in my eyes that refused to fall. My chest felt tight as I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying hard to hold myself together, to not break down. But how do you stop emotions like this? I was standing in front of his grave. The cold marble mocking me with the name etched into it—Demetri Sylvestre Jr. The man I hated for so long. The man who gave me everything... while I selfishly withheld the only thing he ever asked for: my love. I come here twice a month. Every single month. Without fail. It's become a routine—no, a painful habit. I just stand here, staring at the stone that now separates us. Me, and the only man who ever truly loved me. I think about our memories—the moments we shared. The good ones. The bad ones. Everything in between. But no matter how much time passes, the guilt never leaves. That crushing weight in my chest... because it was my

My heart pounds like a war drum. Even after years of being in the spotlight, on film sets, in front of cameras... this moment still feels completely different. Backstage, I can hear the crowd’s roar loud and clear. A thousand voices, all waiting, all excited for the moment I step onto that stage. I hear my name being chanted over and over again, like a beautiful song I somehow composed myself. I took a deep breath. The scent of freshly printed books mixed with the cool backstage air filled my lungs. I held my latest novel tightly in my hands, drawing strength from it. This book was born out of quiet, lonely nights. I’ve been through a lot over the past three years, and those experiences became the heart of this latest novel, the same experiences that taught me how to tug at my readers’ emotions. I tricked them, honestly. And just look at them now—so many showed up. It feels like I’m floating, overwhelmed by their love and unwavering support. “Snow, are you ready?” Alisha, our stun

I was holding my phone, fully absorbed in scrolling through social media. My fingers glided effortlessly over the screen as I browsed posts, photos, and updates while lying in bed after putting my child to sleep.One of the management staff handles my social media accounts—she's also the one posting on my pages, so I wanted to check if everything looked okay. Naturally, I started reading through the comments too.While I was reading, I noticed some uploaded pictures—stolen shots from the event earlier. I wasn’t looking for anything specific; I was just casually going through them one by one.But then, I froze.There was one photo that immediately caught my eye—a man in a hoodie. He was just off to the side, barely noticeable at first glance. But I knew, without a doubt, it was him... the man in the mask.Right after the event ended earlier, after he had his book signed, he suddenly disappeared. I tried to look for him discreetly inside the coliseum, but he was nowhere to be found. I a

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gave in to the pull of his lips. We dove into a nastier, wilder embrace. His touch lit a fvcking inferno inside me, a raw, aching need that swallowed me whole. I couldn’t let him go, scared shitless that if I did, I’d never feel him again. That if I loosened my grip, he’d vanish like some cruel fvcking mirage. That if I let him slip away, I’d wake up to find this was just a goddamn dream, a sick illusion that was never real. Even though they declared him dead years ago, even though I cried my eyes out at his grave, drowning in regret and longing, I never stopped hoping he was still out there. For three fucking years, questions tore at my mind, clawing at me endlessly. If he could fake my father’s death… if he could lie to my face and say he killed my mother and sister… if he could pull off that kind of shit, he could damn well stage his own death. But why? Why the fvck did he have to do it? To watch me break? To make me choke on regret for push

And there we went on, no hesitation, no pause. He didn’t stop until I hit my third órgasm. Over and over, he drove me to the peak of pleasure, and I had no choice but to take every thrust, feeling like I couldn’t handle more but my body still craved it. We kept at it until 3 AM. I was fvcking exhausted. Every ounce of strength drained from me with all the positions we tried. Almost all of them were standing. It’s so dàmn tiring when you’re always upright. I could barely feel my legs anymore. I don’t know where the hell Demetri gets his stamina. He’s just too fvcking good at standing positions. I moved slowly in bed, my entire body aching like I’d been beaten black and blue from exhaustion. I wanted to hold him, and feel the warmth of his body on this cold morning... so when I rolled over and reached out for him, I was startled to find he was no longer there. My eyes flew open, still blurry with sleep, and I glanced toward his side of the bed. He was gone. I sat up fully, scanning