Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Possessive Mafia King (English): Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

Demetri took me to a fancy boutique, where the air smelled rich, like expensive perfume. He didn’t let me choose. Instead, he handpicked dresses, each one carefully selected before being passed to the sales associate, who led me to the fitting room. Dress after dress, I stepped out, only to be met with the same reaction, a slow once-over, a thoughtful frown, and a quiet, “Try another one.” I was beginning to think I’d never find something he approved of until I slipped into a red Alexànder McQuéén Asymmetric Draped Dress. The moment I pulled it over my body, I felt the fabric mold to my curves as if it had been designed just for me. The sculpted silhouette embraced my tall frame, the asymmetric draping cascading over my body in fluid, artful folds. The deep crimson hue contrasted beautifully against my porcelain skin, bringing out the warm caramel tones of my hair. The dress hugged my waist, with the gentle folds highlighting the shape of my hips. The backless design left my skin

I remember last night, how Snow kept trying to reach Marcus. And Feurene had told me that Marcus was trying to contact Snow too. Both of us, Feurene and I did not want them to get back together. That’s why we were doing everything we could to make them hate each other. I was still standing at the front bar when Feurene suddenly approached me. "What the hell, Irene? Not here," I scolded her in a low voice, glancing around. Snow could come back any second. If she saw us talking, she might suspect something. Feurene sighed in frustration. "I thought you weren’t coming. We’ve been waiting for so long, and I’m struggling to handle Marcus." I smirked. "But you succeeded, didn’t you? He kissed you, and not just a simple kiss, a deep, torrid one." She rolled her eyes. "That’s only because he thought I was Snow." My expression darkened instantly. "Yes, Demetri," she continued, her voice bitter. "While he was kissing me, he was moaning Snow’s name." I clenched my jaw, my hand

**Third Person POV** Slowly, she moved, turning her head just enough to see his sleeping face. He was still asleep, his breathing calm, his face relaxed. But as last night's events came rushing back, the sight of him kissing another woman her stomach twisted with disgust. Her body tensed as she carefully lifted his arm and slipped out of bed. She was still in last night’s dress. She had forgotten to change. Snow grabbed a silk floral robe and quickly wrapped it around herself before heading outside to the yacht’s balcony. The morning air was cool, sending a chill over her skin. She didn’t expect the sea breeze to be this cold. But something else made her freeze. They were no longer docked. They were in the middle of the sea. Far from the mainland. A sense of unease twisted inside her. She spun around just as a presence emerged behind her. Demetri. He stepped forward, still groggy, as if he had just woken up. His expression softened as he reached for her, but Sno

**Demetri's POV**My hands traced the curves of her breasts, my thumbs teasing her stiff nipples. A soft moan escaped her lips as my fingers danced across her sensitive flesh. My other hand slid beneath her panties, exploring the wetness between her legs. I stroked her slowly, deliberately, my fingers mimicking the rhythm of lovemaking. A wave of heat radiated from her core, and her body trembled with each touch. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but her moans—she tried to suppress it.I pulled my hand away. I turned her to face me, my eyes locking onto hers as I leaned in for a kiss. But she surprised me, a flicker of resistance in her eyes. She raised her hands, pushing against my shoulders, stopping me."No," she whispered, her voice surprisingly firm."Instead, worship me below," she commanded."I don’t want you kissing my lips." She added. She was still jealous. It seems she feels disgusted kissing my lips because I kiss someone else.My smile grew wider. My wife is so cute when

**Snow’s POV** A sharp discomfort filled my chest as I stared at the shattered fragments on the floor, scattered pieces of glass, much like the broken pieces of a wounded heart. Slowly, I pulled on a white robe, my hands trembling as I quickly secured it. Grabbing the aid kit, I stepped out of the cabin and made my way to the front of the yacht. There, I found him. Demetri sat motionless, staring into the distance, lost in his thoughts. I hesitated. A part of me wanted to turn around, to walk away and pretend I hadn’t seen him like this. But another part of me, a stronger part, wouldn’t let me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I carefully approached him and hesitantly sat down beside him, placing the aid kit between us. The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating. “L-Let me treat your wound,” I said softly, almost afraid to break the silence. He finally turned to look at me before shifting his gaze to his bloodied fist. He remained still as if the pain meant nothing to him.