Todos os capítulos de Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

Michael’s POVI don’t know what it was about today, but everything around me felt heavier, like the walls of this damned house had grown teeth and eyes, watching my every move, ready to swallow me whole. I had taken refuge in my room — the only space in this godforsaken mansion that still felt like mine.The sheets were freshly laid; the scent of lavender clung stubbornly to the fabric like a memory I couldn’t place. I threw another magazine into the growing pile of papers by the window and began straightening out the books on my desk. Cleaning was never something I bothered with before, but lately… it was the one thing that gave me a sense of control.I folded a shirt, placed it in the wardrobe, smoothed out a wrinkle on the duvet, and sat on the bed, admiring the small victory. My space was finally in order. Maybe if the outside world was falling apart, at least in here I could pretend things were normal.Just then, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.Damian.I hesitated for a m

Michael’s POVThe soft hum of the microwave was oddly comforting in the otherwise tense silence of the kitchen. The scent of warmed-up soup filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, it smelled almost like home. Or what home might have been, in some better, less screwed-up lifetime.I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the counter as I watched the seconds tick down on the digital display. In no time, Fernando’s food would be ready soon, and for once and I wasn’t just doing it to keep up appearances. I wanted him to wake up. I needed him to. Everything was starting to fall apart around me — and the one person who could have untangled this mess was lying unconscious in a bedroom upstairs.Across the room, Mortis and Emilio were hunched over their plates, their laughter quiet but strained, as though neither of them truly wanted to laugh. Anabelle was standing at the sink, scrubbing a plate so hard I was half-convinced she was imagining it was my face.I wouldn't be surprise

Ashley’s POVI wasn’t just angry — I was livid. My eyes were locked on Andrew, and every word he said just seemed to make me angrier."You have no idea what the hell you're talking about!" I snapped, my voice slicing through the thick silence that had descended in the room.“Ashley—” The Chief began, his voice firm but controlled, trying to get me to calm down. But I wasn’t about to back down. Not this time.“No, Chief,” I interrupted, standing abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.“She’s too close to the target,” Andrew said, speaking as though I wasn’t even in the room. His voice was annoyingly calm, like he was stating facts that everyone should just accept. “And it’s affecting her performance. We’ve all seen the signs, Chief. Mood swings, irrational decisions, an inability to separate personal feelings from professional duties. It’s compromising the mission. And it’s been going on for too long.”“You’re out of your damn mind,” I spat, barely able to contain the r

Ashley’s POV The steady hum of the ceiling fan above me did little to drown out the gnawing ache in my chest. Another day gone, another restless night ahead. I sat on the edge of my couch, my phone resting on my lap, its screen black but heavy with unsent messages. Messages I had drafted a hundred times but could never bring myself to send.To him.To Michael.The world outside my apartment window was in dull shades of twilight, streetlights flickering to life one by one, their glow spilling onto the wet pavement. The city never slept, but I barely lived in it anymore.I missed him.God, I missed him more than I should.The sound of my ringtone brought me out of my thoughts. I sighed, grabbing the phone and seeing “Mom” flash on the screen. I forced a breath through my teeth and picked up.“Hey, Mom,” I answered, trying for casual but probably landing somewhere near exhausted.“Ashley, honey! I was just thinking about you,” her warm voice came through the line like a soft blank

Michael’s POV The air inside Damian’s condo was thick. Not with the comfortable warmth of wine and conversation, but with something heavier. It clung to my skin, thick like smoke you couldn’t see, making each breath heavy. I sat on the edge of his couch, my nerves frayed and mind racing, my phone still connected to Marlo, tucked between the cushions like a hidden lifeline.I could still hear the faint hum of the call, Marlo’s muted breathing on the other end. It was the only thing keeping me grounded in this storm I had willingly stepped into.Damian appeared from the kitchen, another sleek bottle of deep red wine in one hand, two glasses in the other. “Let’s try this wine,” he said, his voice low. He handed one glass to me, his fingers brushing mine, lingering just a bit too long. That brief contact sent a ripple through me, one I desperately wished to suppress.I took the glass, pretending to admire the wine’s color, anything to avoid his gaze.“Marlo again?” Damian asked, hi