All Chapters of Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

Michael’s POV They say you don’t hear the bullet that hits you. That might be true, but I damn well heard the one that didn’t.I sat on the edge of the curb, the harsh bite of concrete pressing into my palms, the street lights blurring like stars through the sheen of pain and adrenaline. Eliot was already being taken into the back of the police vehicle, his wrists cuffed tight behind him. His face twisted with rage and pathetic desperation."I didn’t do anything wrong!" Eliot screamed as the door was slammed shut behind him. "He’s the one who humiliated me! He provoked me! This is all his fault!"The officer in front of him just rolled his eyes, muttering something to his partner before tapping the hood of the cruiser. Eliot’s yells were muffled as the car door sealed him off. A moment later, the engine started and they drove away, his voice trailing behind like the bitter tail of a storm.Good riddance.My shirt was half soaked with blood where the bullet had grazed me. The stin

Archer's POV It was the steady rise and fall of Fernando’s chest that stirred me awake. The sunlight filtered through the sheer white curtains, painting soft gold on the walls and sheets. For a moment, I simply lay there, still, content, my head resting lightly against the warmth of his bare muscular chest. His arm was placed lazily around me, heavy and comforting. His breath was even, soft, his face lost in sleep.God, he looked beautiful like this.I shifted slightly, turning to rest my cheek more comfortably against him. My eyes traveled slowly over the strong line of his jaw, the light stubble brushing against my forehead. His lips were slightly parted. A few strands of his dark hair curled over his brow, and I resisted the urge to reach up and brush them away.His muscles were a quiet sculpture beneath my hand, all massive strength and silent power. I could still feel the memories of last night on my skin—his touch, his breath, the sounds we made in the dark. It was the k

Michael’s POV The night air was crisp as Ivy and I stepped out of the café, the heavy door swinging shut behind us with a satisfying thud. I glanced over at Ivy. She looked exhausted but content. I couldn’t help the question that had been gnawing at me all day.“Did you know?” I asked, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “That Archer—the Archer Graves—owns Kafé Verse?”Ivy’s eyes flicked up, startled. “You didn’t know?” she asked, eyebrows arching. “Michael, he owns practically half the businesses in the city.”“I knew his company did,” I said, my voice low, “but I didn’t think the Archer Graves himself would show up to our tiny coffee shop. Or that he would be… well… him.”Ivy laughed softly, but it faded almost instantly. “Yeah. He’s intimidating, isn’t he?”“That’s one word for it. He spent half the afternoon glaring at me like I had spat in his espresso. And the other half telling me my milk frothing technique was subpar.”Ivy snorted, elbowing me gently. “I saw

Fernando’s POV I sat on the leather chaise by the window, the lights of the city shimmering below like a thousand restless fireflies. A half-empty crystal glass of whisky dangled from my fingertips, the wine’s dark scent curling up to soothe me. The television flickered across the room, the news broadcast for tonight finally starting. I turned the volume up, my heart thrumming with a strange, eager anticipation.There he was: Archer Graves.He stood at the podium outside Kafé Verse, the CEO’s tailored black suit impeccable even in the harsh glare of reporters’ lights. His voice was cool, unshakable as he addressed the chaos Eliot had left behind.Archer spoke of new safety measures, support for the victims, and a commitment to the community. His fierce eyes, cold and mesmerizing, scanned the crowd of journalists like a predator sizing up prey.I felt a flush of heat curl through me. God, he was magnificent, powerful, and composed—he commanded the cameras without trying. Even t

Michael’s POV It was a slow, gentle afternoon at the café — the kind that felt like a warm hug.Ivy was wiping down the counter next to me, her dark hair tucked behind her ear. Her focus was absolute, but every so often she would sneak a glance at me like she was building up the courage to say something.Finally, she took a deep breath. “Michael, can I… ask you something?”I set down the milk frother and gave her my full attention. “Always.”She hesitated. “You know the manager position that just opened up?”I nodded. “I think…” Ivy swallowed hard. “I want to apply.”A grin spread across my face. “Ivy, that’s amazing! You would be perfect.”Her brows pinched together. “You really think so?”“I know so,” I told her firmly, leaning an elbow on the polished counter. “You’re smart, you care about the staff, and you work harder than anyone here. You would be a great manager.”She bit her lip, looking down at the rag in her hands. “But what if Archer wants someone else? Someone… mo