All Chapters of Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Chapter 311 - Chapter 319

Marlo’s POV The scent of antiseptic burned faintly in my nose as I pushed open the door to Fernando’s hospital room. The hallway behind me was as silent as a mausoleum. Anabelle followed closely, the soft clack of her heels barely breaking the oppressive hush that weighed on this part of the hospital reserved for the highest-paying men in the city.They had moved him—upgraded him, as the nurse proudly said when I checked in. Fernando now lay in a private suite far away from the regular patients, as if walls and white sheets could protect him from the consequences of a life built on power and blood.He looked smaller in that hospital bed. Strange, how someone who once made entire boardrooms tremble with a single word could now lie unmoving, vulnerable and silent. Wires tangled around his arms like vines reclaiming a dying tree. The steady beep of machines was the only sign he still had a grip on life.I walked slowly toward him, trying not to let my emotions show. But it burned. Da

Michael’s POV I didn’t think I would hear his voice again. Not today, not like this. At the sound of his voice, we froze. The room stilled, as if time itself had stopped spinning. Henry’s eyes widened. “D-Dad?” I turned toward the bed slowly, my stomach flipping as I stared at the man who, minutes ago, was lying comatose in a sea of wires and beeping machines. Fernando was awake. His eyes were open, blinking sluggishly but clea and focused. His jaw clenched as he scanned the room, then grimaced at the overhead light as if it offended him. Anabelle ran towards the door. “I’ll get the doctor!” Henry didn’t wait for permission. He launched himself forward, arms outstretched like a missile of love and disbelief. “You’re awake! Daddy, you’re really awake!” Fernando looked at him as one might a stranger at the door. His arms remained limp by his side. His expression was wrong, that warmth gone. The spark of affection I had seen countless times between Fernando and Henry w

Fernando’s POV It had been infuriatingly long hours since I saw Michael. My eyes fluttered open to the blinding white lights of the hospital ceiling. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the sterile glow and the annoying beeping of a heart monitor beside me. A slow breath expanded in my lungs, sharp and hollow like something was missing inside me. I hated this feeling—this sense of being restrained, confined, and completely out of control. I turned my head to the left. The wide windows offered no comfort, only a view of the empty courtyard drenched in silence. A nurse passed by the door, murmuring something into her earpiece. I didn’t like hospitals. Never had. The walls always felt like they were closing in. But this room, this private room, felt like a prison. "You're awake," a deep voice said. I turned to the right. My doctor, a tall man in a slate-blue coat, stepped closer. He looked calm, calculating, and always with that damn clipboard in hand. I didn’t like him.

Archer’s POV I leaned back in my chair, finally allowing the tension to melt from my shoulders. If anyone had told me being a CEO of numerous companies in one of the most bustling cities in the US would be like this, I might have just decided to be like one of those rich men who stayed at home and partied all day. I couldn’t do that. I thrived on the adrenaline rush of being the center of attention and always winning, even though I was already exhausted. The boardroom was quiet now. The digital projector still hummed softly, casting ghostly light against the far wall, but the last of the investors had cleared out ten minutes ago. The meeting had gone well—on paper. Numbers were up, projections stable. But nothing about the triumph settled right in my chest. Not today. I had just reached for my glass of whiskey when my phone buzzed. It was Harold calling. My butler rarely called. Texts, yes, for calendar adjustments, reminders, clothing suggestions—but calls? That usually mea