Lahat ng Kabanata ng Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Kabanata 191 - Kabanata 200

Fernando's POV It was already past eight when I finally made it home. The low hum of the engine died down as I stepped out of the car, my limbs aching from hours buried under files, meetings, and negotiations. The company had eaten the best part of my patience today, and all I wanted was food, a glass of wine, and perhaps, the silent satisfaction of watching Michael pretend he wasn’t listening every time I said something to him.The cool interior of my new and improved mansion offered little relief. The opulence I once found comforting now felt like a reflection of the chaos inside me. The new chandeliers cast soft glows across the hallways, but not even the expensive taste in architecture could mask the growing irritation that had taken root in my chest since morning.As I entered the dining room, the smell of warm food hit my senses. Finally, at least one part of my day would go as planned.Marlo stood by the doorway, stiff and clearly agitated. He didn’t look at me directly.

Michael’s POV It was quiet.Too quiet.My breathing was shallow and controlled as i closed my eyes and tried my best to listen to the cluster of voices outside my hiding spot.I pressed myself deeper behind the old bookshelf in Ashley’s spare room, the dusty space between the wall and the shelf just wide enough for someone desperate enough to hide. It wasn’t an ideal hiding space for someone of my stature but desperate times calls for desperate measures and I was incredibly desperate enough not to get caught. The slats of wood in the back gave me a narrow sliver of a view into the hallway, and even in the near-darkness, my eyes refused to blink. I couldn’t afford to blink. Not now.Footsteps echoed from the living room. They were heavy and measured. It didn't take me any need to guess that they belonged to Emilio and Mortis who were following the orders of their boss without question. They were Fernando’s dogs and that was all he needed them to be.I clutched the edge of the s

Ashley’s POVThe morning sun barely crept in through the thin curtains of my apartment as I stood by the window, peeking from the edge like I was in some old spy film. The two men stationed across the street didn’t even bother to hide anymore. Same silver sedan. Same cheap coffee cups. Same stiff posture like they were trying to blend in with the neighborhood but failing miserably.Michael sat hunched over the kitchen table behind me, his fingers rhythmically tapping against a ceramic mug, eyes distant."They're still there," I muttered, drawing the curtain back into place."I figured," he replied quietly. His voice was edged with a bitterness that hadn't quite gone away since he arrived. "If it wasn’t for those vultures outside, I would have gone to look for work today. I can’t keep sitting here while you pay all the bills. I'm your roommate now, not some runaway ghost."I turned, giving him a look of stubborn care. "Even if Fernando’s men weren’t camped outside, I still wouldn’t

Michael’s POV I stood by the curtain, barely pulling it aside, just enough to peek out through the gap. I had spent half an hour over thinking what was going outside Ashley’s apartment.Outside, parked across the street like a pair of loyal guard dogs, sat Fernando's men in their dark car. Same one every day. It seems they had stopped their usual rotation with Marlo, Emilio and Mortis.I wouldn't be surprised if Marlo had tried to convince Fernando to stop trying to look for me and put his energy elsewhere, perhaps towards his empire which he us desperately trying to rebuild.I looked intensely at the car, squinting my eyes just so I could make out their faces but it was almost impossible. The car windows were tinted black, rims matte, the engine always idling just low enough to be felt rather than heard. Their presence had become a fixture of my new life in hiding, a permanent blot on the view from Ashley's apartment. My heart thudded with a familiar mix of rage and helplessne

Ashley’s POVIt was late—later than I had intended. The supermarket buzzed beneath dimmed fluorescent lights, casting everything in a sterile glow that made the world feel far too clean for the mess of my reality. I glanced at my overflowing cart. It was ridiculous—enough food to stock a bunker, not just a fridge. There was milk, eggs, fresh fruit and vegetables. Three different kinds of bread, meats wrapped in butcher paper, bottled water, pasta, a jar of marinara that I hated but bought anyway because Michael liked it with extra basil.I turned the corner into the frozen aisle, cradling a box of chicken strips against my chest, when I nearly collided with someone."Whoa—sorry," I said quickly, the box slipping a little in my grasp."FBI girl."The voice stopped me cold.Rough and raspy, like someone dragged gravel through bourbon and smirked afterward. My spine stiffened before my eyes met his."Marlo," I muttered, my tone flat and unwilling.He looked the same—tall and dangerou