Todos los capítulos de Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Capítulo 221 - Capítulo 230

Ashley’s POV The air inside the FBI headquarters was always cold, sterile, and scented faintly of burnt coffee, toner, and tension. It clung to the skin like static, setting nerves perpetually on edge. The rhythmic clicking of keyboards echoed faintly over the hum of computers and distant voices trading information like it was weapons.I sat at my desk in the far corner of the cyber operations wing, watching over two dual monitors, their pale glow lighting my face in blue and white. As my fingers flew across the keyboard, I navigated through encrypted files, cross-referencing databases, bypassing firewalls that would earn most people a prison sentence. But I wasn’t most people—I was Special Agent Ashley Torres, one of the bureau’s best digital forensic analysts.And I was hunting a ghost.One name. That’s all I was looking for.Eliot Granger.Manager of the KAFÉ VERSE coffee shop in the Lower East District.A man who, on paper, should’ve been irrelevant—just another clean-cut civ

Fernando's POV The evening air was thick with summer heat, tinged with the faintest scent of violence and hot pavement. I stepped out of the rear exit of the company building, adjusting the cuff of my suit jacket. My polished shoes clicked against the pavement with every step, purposeful, practiced, and calm—even though my mind was a wild mess beneath the surface. Two of my bodyguards, dressed in sharp black, flanked me on either side. Marlo walked slightly ahead, scrolling through a message on his phone. My car, a black Maserati Quattroporte, customized and bulletproofed, of course, was waiting in the corner of the lot. My driver had already pulled it out of the underground garage, and its sleek surface caught the last rays of daylight. It really looked like a beauty waiting for me. Marlo tilted his head toward me. "You saw the report from Palermo, boss?" "I did," I said, my eyes trained on the car, but my ears wide open. "Don Alfredo is pressing too hard. He’s old, l

Michael’s POV The fluorescent lights in the Kafé Verse parking lot flickered like they were tired too.I stood beside the back exit with my hands in my jacket pockets, the last echoes of laughter still bouncing between the walls behind us. The doors had just clunked shut as we finished locking up for the night, the quiet click of Mateo’s keys signaling the end of a long day.“It’s weird not dreading tomorrow,” Mateo said, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie as a gust of wind swept through. “Like, we actually get to come in and not worry about Eliot breathing down our necks.”I let out a quiet breath. “I still can’t believe we did that.”“I can,” Ivy said, falling into step beside me. Her black boots crunched softly over the ground. “It was overdue.”Mateo let out a bitter laugh. “The guy has been treating us like garbage for months. I think I speak for all of us when I say he had it coming.”“Big time,” Liam agreed. “You should have seen him go white when you told him off, Mich

Michael’s POV The street was quiet.Too quiet.The kind of quiet that made you feel like there was peace but it was all too good to be true especially in this chaotic world.Ivy and I were just a few blocks away from her apartment, our footsteps echoing too sharply against the cracked pavement of the old street. We had not even expected what happened next because it was honestly the last thing on our minds.Bright light from a flickering streetlamp buzzed faintly above us, casting long shadows behind our backs.Then we saw him.Eliot.Standing in front of us like he owned the goddamn night.His arms were crossed, and that smug, disgusting smirk of his curled the corners of his lips. I felt my spine stiffen, my hand twitching by my side from old instincts. Ivy stopped beside me, visibly tensing."You’ve got to be kidding me," I muttered."Michael…" Ivy whispered, her voice barely audible. I knew that tone. She was nervous. Not because she couldn’t hold her own—but because she was

Michael’s POV The street was too quiet. Not the comforting kind of quiet you get at dawn, when the world is at peace, but the kind that aches in your head, that sets your instincts on fire and screams something is wrong. It was a hollow kind of silence, broken only by the distant hum of a flickering streetlamp overhead. Its light wavered like a dying heartbeat, casting long, jagged shadows across the slick, rain-slick pavement.We shouldn't have been here. But we were.Ivy’s hand was in mine, ice cold and trembling, like she was holding on to me as the last thing anchoring her to the world. Her breaths came shallow and rapid, panic fluttering against my side with every inhale she took. I could feel her pulse in her fingertips—too fast. Too scared.And I hated it.I hated that she was afraid.I hated that he did this to her.I hated that I let this happen.Ten feet in front of us stood the man responsible.Eliot, with a smoking gun in his hand.He had shot at me.Once, I had only