All Chapters of Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Chapter 441 - Chapter 450

Marlo’s POV I never thought betrayal could smell so thick that even the air refused to carry it away. But standing there, just a few feet from Fernando’s black car, I saw it happen with my own eyes. His lips pressed against Dominique’s lips, desperate, hungry, a kiss that lasted long enough for me to count my heartbeats. And if Michael knew he would burn the engagement, spit on the Ramirez family name, and possibily run with Henry, and Fernando, backed into a corner with no heir to secure the family’s future, would have no choice but to look at me, his loyal right hand. The thought entered into my mind. But then the kiss broke, and for a split second, Fernando’s dark eyes flicked in my direction. "Did he see me?" My body froze. I pressed myself into the shadow of the rundown building’s crumbling wall. Maybe he hadn’t, maybe his gaze was distracted, or maybe I was already dead and didn’t know it. I swallowed the fear, crushed it down and slipped into the building where the

Fernando’s POV The silence was my companion, a silence so thick and rewarding that I could almost taste it in the haze of cigar smoke lingering in the air. A smirk pulled across my lips as I leaned back in the leather chair behind my mahogany desk, the weight of control sitting like a crown on my shoulders. Marlo had seen me that evening with Dominique’s lips on mine, my hand tangled in his hair, our bodies pressed together in reckless hunger. I had half-expected him to run his mouth, to come to Michael with wide-eyed betrayal, but after my little talk with him, he had stayed quiet. What mattered was I had my secret still in my grasp. I lifted my glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint golden glow of the desk lamp. The world was mine in this moment and very soon, Michael would be mine too. I was untouchable. A knock broke the silence. “Come in,” I said, my voice even, filled with authority. The door creaked open, and there Dominique was. He moved into the

Fernando’s POV My fingers drummed against the mahogany desk, the polished surface gleaming beneath the lamp. I knew Michael could feel the weight of my gaze on him, but he stubbornly refused to look at me. He stood near the tall window, staring out into the near dark garden as if the evening could offer him answers I could not. His shoulders were tense, his frame rigid, and his hands curled slightly into fists at his side. That alone told me everything, I didn’t need words. Michael was fighting, not with me, but inside himself, torn between the life I offered and the freedom he craved. I leaned back and exhaled softly, the sound almost a sigh. "If I don’t fix this now," I thought, "he might do something reckless. He might walk out of here, and decide not to go through with this. He might leave me standing at the altar with nothing but blood on my hands and his scent on the sheets." I refused to let that happen. “Michael.” My voice cut through the silence, low, coaxing, ting

Michael’s POV The moment my fingers clamped around Dominique’s arm, I felt the pulse beneath his skin. He turned his head slowly, his lips tugging into that faint smile of his, the kind of smile that always looked like he knew something no one else did. But it wasn’t his smugness that froze me, It was the scent. Fernando’s scent was something I could never forget, no matter how much I tried. It was the scent I had woken up to, the one that clung to my clothes and body when he held me close, and now, here it was fixed into Dominique’s shirt through his skin. My throat tightened, my mind screamed. Anabelle’s poisonous words slithered up from the corners of my memory. I swallowed hard. “Why,” I asked slowly, my voice low and tight, “do you smell like him?” Dominique arched a brow. “Like who?” “You know damn well who.” I stepped closer, my grip tightening on his arm. “Fernando's cologne is all over you.” For the first time, Dominique chuckled. A deep, rich sound that made my

Ashley’s POV I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the morning, toothbrush still in hand, staring at the dark circles under my eyes like they belonged to someone else. The night before had stretched into exhaustion because of too many hours at Fernando’s mansion, too much time watching Michael stew in his anger, and far too much pretending that the ground beneath us wasn’t already splitting open. By the time I had made it back to my apartment, my body had begged me to collapse into bed, but my mind had burned with one thought that Fernando has to be stopped. Writing that email and addressing it to the only place i thought Fernando’s claws hadn’t fully reached was dangerous. I wondered what the president would think if he sees my email. The 'if' settled in my mind because it was a big gamble. “Damn it,” I muttered to myself, pulling on my clothes, my hands trembled as I buttoned it. If I were late to work, Chief Calvin would already have my neck, and if Fernando somehow