Início / LGBTQ+ / Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don / Capítulo 301 - Capítulo 310

Todos os capítulos de Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Capítulo 301 - Capítulo 310

917 Capítulos

The Sound of His Breathing

Michael’s POVThe ambulance lights blinked ahead like angry gods screaming warnings. Red, white light were flashing continuously against the street as the back doors slammed closed.“Move! Let’s go!” one of the EMTs shouted.We were already running.Me, Marlo, Mortis and Emilio.All of us entered inside Fernando’s car with urgency. Marlo floored the accelerator, tires shrieking as we followed the ambulance like desperate shadows chasing a fading light.Inside the car, no one spoke. There was no need to.The silence was unbearable.I stared out the windshield, but I wasn’t seeing the road. I was seeing him. Fernando with blood soaking his side. That stubborn fire in his eyes. The way he had collapsed after firing that one goddamn shot at the sniper.That was all it took to crack me.“You don’t get to die on me,” I muttered under my breath, so low none of them heard it.My hands were clenched so tight my knuckles ached. Every bone in my body buzzed with panic. It wasn’t just adrenaline

The Trigger That Lied

Archer’s POV The hospital air smelled of antiseptic and rage.It was the kind of suffocating tension that could choke you before the scent of blood ever did. Bright, humming lights flickered above me, a heartbeat rhythm too fast, too sharp. I stood outside the trauma unit doors of Saint Aldric’s Medical Center, my boots glued to the floor like they had roots in the polished tiles.And in front of me, stood my judgment.Marlo, Mortis, Emilio... and Michael.The moment their eyes met mine, time fractured. Michael's face twisted first—like a bomb just got detonated behind his green eyes.“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snarled, his voice low and sharp.His hands clenched. I didn't move. I didn’t need to.Marlo’s jaw flexed so hard I could hear his teeth grinding. Mortis took a step forward, his face cold, but his eyes were fire. Emilio’s eyes shifted from me to the bloodstains still fresh on the ER floor behind me.And Michael looked like he wanted to rip out my throat with his bare

Only One of Us Bleeds

Michael POV The minute the doctor pushed open the double doors and stepped into the corridor, the air shifted. Everyone’s back straightened. Archer’s attention immediately shifted to the doctor. Marlo moved closer. I kept my mind clear and met the doctor’s gaze directly. He was a short man with tired eyes and a white coat too long for his frame. His face was lined with tension. He asked to talk to someone relating to Fernando and this caused both me and Archer to step forward, our resolve to be the chosen one clear as day. Neither of us was prepared to back down for the other. I don't care what Archer was up to, but I'm not going to step down for him. Not a fucking chance. The doctor looked between us and let out a tired breath. “Who is the next of kin for Mr. Fernando Ramirez?” he asked in a clipped, professional tone. We all froze. “I am,” I said quickly. “No, you’re not,” Archer snapped, stepping closer to.the doctor. “I’m his partner. You should speak to me.” The doct

Cleaning the battlefield

Ashley’s POV The silence was loud. I stood in the center of my living room, staring at the shattered vase on the floor and the bits of blood—Fernando’s blood— toward the front door. My knees felt weak, but I didn’t have the luxury of collapsing. Not now. Not with little Henry in the next room. Not with Michael out there, with Fernando in a hospital with Marlo, Mortis and Emilio, while I was stuck here trying to sweep up pieces of a war that wasn’t mine. I exhaled sharply and tossed the bloodied dish towel into a trash bag, wincing at the metallic smell that still lingered in the air. I had wiped and scrubbed the hardwood floor a hundred times already, but I could still feel it under my fingertips—Fernando’s pain, the weight of Michael’s eyes locking with mine and the urgency in his voice when he had said. “Just take care of Henry. We’ll handle the rest.” I hated this. I hated the chaos, the guns, the blood, and the secrets. I hated that every time I thought Michael and I co

Keep Your Hands Off Henry

Micheal's POV The air in Saint Aldric’s Hospital parking lot was heavy. Not just with the thick evening mist that rolled in from the coastal cliffs, but with a kind of pressure that settled over my chest like wet cement. I needed a shower. I needed sleep. Hell, I needed peace. I was done with my phone call with Ashley and i couldn't count on Marlo taking me back hime because it was his car i had used to get to the hospital. I needed to stop a cab. It wasn’t long before I heard footsteps—slow, purposeful ones—echoing off the pavement behind me. The kind of footsteps that didn’t carry good news. I turned. Marlo walked towards me with his usual cold expression and a small frown on his face masked by a stupid smirk carved onto his leathery face like he already thought he had won. Flanking him were Mortis and Emilio, silent as shadows, their faces unreadable beneath the cold glow of the lot’s flickering lights. “Michael,” Marlo drawled, as if we were old friends catching up afte

In the Foyer

Marlo's POV The ride back to Fernando’s estate was slower than usual. Not because the car was slow—it was the silence that dragged time out. Emilio was at the wheel, his knuckles white on the steering. Mortis sat beside me in the backseat, arms crossed, his lips drawn in a tight line. I didn't say anything. None of us did. We were nursing bruised egos. Michael had made a fool of us. I clenched my jaw, staring out the window as the mansion's iron gates slowly opened to welcome us home. It had been a damn long day. After the disaster at Ashley’s apartment earlier today and the hospital—where we were supposed to corner Michael and instead ended up outplayed like schoolboys—we still had enough grit left to go to the morge and check the sniper’s body. The bastard who had taken the shot at Fernando earlier today was much younger than expected but he looked like he had experience. Fernando had given him a shot to the neck, clean and professional. However, the sniper was like

The Line I Won’t Let them cross

Michael's POV The front door slammed behind me, the echo bounced off the walls of Ashley’s apartment, the sharp crack ringing in my ears. I stood frozen for a second, my palm still on the doorknob, my chest heaving with each breath like I had run a marathon uphill in the rain. The air in the apartment was warm but all I could feel was the frost that clung to my skin from where I had just come. My knuckles were raw. My heartbeat a relentless drumbeat in my ears. I didn’t even hear Ashley approach until she was right in front of me, barefoot in that worn T-shirt she always slept in. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, a few strands loose around her face. But her eyes were sharp, scanning me like a nurse. “Michael?” she whispered. “Where the hell have you been?” My tongue felt dry as paper. “I wanted to come home early but i didn't know if they'll be following me so i decided to walk around a while.” Her brows furrowed. “Who…?” “Marlo, Mortis and Emilio.” She stared at

The Beginning of the end

Michael’s POV I knew I was fired. Even without a letter, a call, or an official notice, I felt it in my bones. After the mess with Archer, there was no doubt in my mind: I wouldn’t be stepping foot back into Kafé Verse again. I stared blankly at the ceiling above my bed, arms folded under my head, the fan slicing the early Monday morning air with a slow, rhythmic hum. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the distant noise of neighbors and the sound of cartoons playing softly from the living room. I lost a job, I had a child to raise, Fernando was still in the hospital, and a man wants me dead. Hell of a way to start the week. Still, I had no time to sulk or dwell. Today wasn’t about me—it was about Henry. His first day at Richmond Elementary. And he was thrilled. I rolled out of bed, cracked my back with a long stretch, and wandered into the living room, where Henry sat cross-legged on the couch wearing nothing but his boxers and a superhero cape. A spoon dangled

A Watchful Eye and a Box of Pizza

Michael’s POV I sat parked beneath the shadow of a scraggly oak tree across from Richmond Elementary, the engine off, my phone face-down on the passenger seat, and the smell of leather seats slowly turning stale in the summer heat. The AC hadn’t been running for over an hour now, but I didn’t mind. The sweat gathering at the base of my neck, under my shirt reminded me I was alive, alert and waiting. My eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror for the hundredth time. There it was. That black car was still there. The nerve of those morherfuckers to follow me to a school and try to get their hands on a child just because of their own personal gain. I had two suspects on who could have sent those bastsrds to watch Henry’s movement and it could either be Archer or Marlo. It had been parked two cars down and slightly behind me since 7:50 AM—right after I dropped Henry off for school. I didn’t need to see the faces inside to know exactly who they were so I couldn't know for sure whom

The Weight of a Name

Marlo’s POV The moment I ended the call with Michael, I slammed the phone down so hard I heard the case crack. “Damn it!” I hissed, pacing the floor like a caged animal. Michael had messed it all up. Everything. All I wanted to do was to take Henry calmly when he was done from school and convince the kid it would be safer for him to be by my side in Fernando’s mansion. Simple. But somehow, Michael had taken it upon himself to act like a damn hero, swooping in to protect Henry like he was some noble father figure. It wasn’t his job. It was mine. Mine. I raked my hands through my hair, teeth clenched, jaw twitching from how hard I was grinding it. The room smelled like steam and roses. Anabelle had just finished ironing. The scent always calmed me before. Now it made me sick. “Marlo,” her voice came gently from the bedroom doorway. She was holding a dark charcoal suit—tailored, sharp-edged, and cold-looking. “You need to get dressed. The meeting is in an hour.” I di

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