All Chapters of Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Fernando’s POV The black Mercedes car pulled to a soft, calm stop outside the golden-lit entrance of La Lumière, the kind of restaurant that made billionaires feel appropriately rich. Elegant fountains were situated on either side of the grand entrance, their marble lions silent sentinels beneath the glow of imported Italian lanterns. I stepped out first, adjusting the lapels of my charcoal Brioni suit as Mortis opened the door for me with the sharp precision I expected of him. Marlo was already scanning the perimeter, a few steps ahead, his face unreadable as always."Keep your eyes open tonight," I said, my voice low, confident. "Even in fine establishments like this, a bullet still finds its mark."Marlo gave a stiff nod. "We’ve swept the area, boss. Two of our men are stationed inside. If any of your enemies want a front-row seat to their funeral, they’re welcome" Marlo said as his hand lowers from his earpiece. Mortis cracked his knuckles beside me. "They wouldn’t dare."I

Fernando’s POV The soft clink of wine glasses, silverware brushing porcelain, and the low hum of laughter filled the luxurious restaurant. It was one of those places where time slowed down, everything bathed in golden light and money. "The men have returned," Marlo said as he leaned closer to my ear, his voice barely audible above the piano music playing in the background. "They're off Ashley's place, just like you asked." I didn't look at him immediately. My eyes were still fixed Archer seated across the table from me. The dim lighting made his jawline look even sharper, and the shirt he wore clung just tight enough to be criminal. "Good," I said with a slight nod, my voice smooth, calm, the kind that belonged to a man who always got what he wanted. "Let's enjoy the rest of this night without distractions." Marlo stepped back behind me, and I turned my full attention to Archer, who was tracing the rim of his wine glass with the tip of his finger. "You seem distrac

Fernando’s POV The night air was sharp against my skin as I stepped out of the restaurant. The chaos I left behind brought a beautiful smile to my face and I could relish in this sweet bliss forever.A cool breeze passed by, carrying with it the scent of gunpowder, blood, and burnt fabric. The remnants of chaos. My gaze swept across the street where the real scene unfolded, far from the polished tables and crystal glasses we had left behind.My men, sharp in their black tactical gear, were rounding up the fools who dared to attack me in a place as public and elegant as this. Archer's men, dressed professionally in custom-tailored navy suits, were just as efficient. Efficient and brutal. One enemy tried to run, and I watched Archer's men second-in-command shoot him square in the kneecap, then calmly return to his position like he had simply stepped out for a cigarette.This was simply much more than I had expected from that baby faced CEO. "They really thought they could kill me

Fernando’s POVThe world awakened slowly—birds calling out to one another from the sycamore trees, bees buzzing lazily around the garden roses, and a gardener humming a tune I barely recognized as he trimmed the hedges with soft, repetitive snips.There was something sacred about mornings here—quiet, untouched, and fragile. It reminded me of when my family and I first moved in. My mother and I would spent entire Sundays wrapped in these very sheets, as she told me interesting stories while my father would be drinking mimosas on the terrace. That was before it all crumbled.But that morning… it was different.I sat across from him in the garden, beneath a white canopy of trees entwined with blooming wisteria, the scent rich and intoxicating. The table between us overflowed with an exquisite breakfast spread: golden croissants, raspberry, soft cheeses, and fruits glistening with morning dew. A cup of dark-roasted coffee steamed gently beside delicate porcelain cups.Michael looked

Fernando’s POV The soft echo of my shoes against the polished marble floor matched the steady, calculated rhythm of my thoughts. I was already dressed in my tailored navy-blue suit, crisp white shirt beneath, and my usual silver cufflinks glinting under the hallway light. The corridors of my mansion were silent except for the faint clinking of breakfast being prepared in the far dining hall. Yet my mind was far from at ease.Archer Graves.The name alone was enough to cause a storm inside me. And now he was here—in my house, uninvited, this early in the morning.My jaw tightened as I passed the oil paintings lining the hallway—my ancestors watching, their eyes just as cold as the memories Archer dragged up from the shadows. Michael and I had history. Complicated, unfinished, dangerous history. And i could tell Archer knew how to twist the knife and do it with a smile.As I neared the east wing that led to the dining hall, I saw Marlo and Annabelle, standing by the double archway