All Chapters of Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Michael’s POVI don’t know what kind of sick, twisted joke the universe thought it was playing, but the moment I found myself pulled onto Damian’s lap like some helpless doll, my skin prickled with unease."Get the hell off me, Damian," I growled, squirming against the iron hold he had around my waist.He didn’t budge. Not an inch. His grip was steady, firm, and just tight enough to remind me who currently had the upper hand.“You’re acting crazy,” I spat, narrowing my eyes at him. “This isn’t funny. I’m not enjoying this little power trip you’re on.”His lips curved into a slow, predatory smirk and his voice dropped, low and intimate.“Oh, Michael,” Damian murmured, his breath brushing the side of my neck. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not here to entertain you. And you… you’re not going anywhere.”I stiffened when he slid his hand down my arm, his fingers lacing around mine, trapping it against my thigh. His other hand wandered, bold and possessive, his fingertips tracing the ski

Michael’s POVI leaned heavily against the door, my heart beating hard against my ribcage as my mind kept on calculating on how i could escape.The aftermath of the scuffle with Damian still lingered in my mind and i could still feel the aftereffects of my punch on my trembling fingers. Damian wiped another smear of blood from his busted nose, the corner of his lips curling into a sinister grin. The dim light of the room cast sharp shadows across his face, but the amusement dancing in his dark eyes sent a chill down my spine.It was as if I was staring at a completely different person, a complete opposite to the man I thought I could actually try to fall in love with.I should have known better.“You know,” Damian began, his voice smooth despite the fresh blood he flicked carelessly from his fingers, “you were quite the agent, Michael. Quite the golden boy, if I remember correctly.” He chuckled, a cruel sound in the tense room. “A man of justice, honour and law. Then what happened,

Michael’s POVThe sharp sounds of gunfire coming from outside shattered the heavy silence of the mansion.I was in Fernando’s room, leaning against the window, lost in thought. The whole Damian incident had left a sour taste in my mouth. Every inch of my body ached from that scuffle, and my mind was still racing from the things he said. How much did he know? How far had my enemies gotten inside our walls without us noticing?Then—Bang!My head snapped up. The sound of a gunshot, unmistakable and close. Another crack followed it, then a volley. Not far. No mistaking it now.I instinctively turned to look at Fernando, slightly hoping that hearing such sounds might be enough to wake hum up, but I had been wrong.I heard another round of shots being fired and I knew this wasn’t some random shootout. It was an attack."Not again" I muttered under my breath.I was out of the room before I even registered moving. My heart was pounding against my ribs as my feet came alive and ran down t

Andrew’s POVThe cold English air brushed against my skin as I tilted my head up to the second-story window. A dark smile went across my lips as I waited, watched to see that traitor's face.A second ago, Michael’s face had been there—staring down at me with that same infuriating calm he had always worn when things were going out of his control. And now… nothing.Good.Let him hide. Let them all scramble like rats in a sinking ship.This was my time to bring my enemies to their knees and I wasn’t going to stop until I have achieved my goal.I stepped back, scanning the old mansion ahead of us. The old Ramirez estate was barely holding itself together — cracked window glass, vine plants all over the walls, a run down compound that made it feel just like a building in a horror movie. A perfect hideout for cowards.I turned to my men, most of them hidden behind trees and old stone fences, their fingers twitching near their triggers. I didn’t have enough men for a full frontal attack.

Michael’s POV The smell of onions cooking in olive oil wrapped around me like a warm blanket. For a moment, just a brief moment, I let myself forget where we were, what was happening, and how much blood had already been spilled. The sound of the kitchen door opening pulled me out of my trance. Ashley leaned against the doorway, her arms folded. “Smells good,” she said, her voice soft but obvious with exhaustion. I glanced up, half-smiling as I stirred. “Figured it was time we ate something that didn’t taste like cardboard or fear.” She raised an eyebrow. “Is that what this is? A morale boost?” “Something like that,” I murmured. Ashley stepped in, rubbing the tension from the back of her neck as Mortis and Emilio followed behind her, dragging their tired bodies like the war had already been lost. Emilio sniffed the air and grinned. “Damn. Didn’t know you could cook.” I set the bowls on the table. “Survival skills.” Mortis slumped into a chair with a