All Chapters of Mafia's Unexpected Prized Possession: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

TRISTAN'S POV The throbbing in my back flared with every shallow breath. I peeled my eyelids open, disoriented. The low light told me it was night. How long had I been out? My last memory was hitting the gym hard this morning, then… those harpies. Giovanni's past, present, and probably future flings, all vying for his attention, and apparently, seeing me as an obstacle.... a cock greedy slut.A growl rumbled in my chest. They’d ganged up on me, all claws and venomous whispers. One of them, that blonde bitch, had landed a solid power twister to my back. The memory brought a fresh wave of pain. I blinked again, trying to focus. This wasn't my room. Or even the sterile, impersonal medical wing. This was… Giovanni's room.My throat felt like sandpaper. I croaked, clearing it, and spotted a pitcher of water and a glass on the nightstand. Bless Giovanni for at least having that much foresight. I poured a glass, the cool water soothing the dryness. As I swallowed, another unsettling realiz

TRISTAN'S POVGiovanni’s departure had left a lingering hollowness in me, a gnawing dissatisfaction that echoed the unfinished intimacy. His hand had brushed mine, a fleeting, tantalizing touch that had ignited a slow burn within me. I’d felt myself succumbing to the heat, the promise of something more, only for him to be ripped away by Dmitri’s summons, by the urgent whispers of the mafia business. Now, I slumped against the cool, empty expanse of Giovanni’s king-sized bed, the sheets still faintly warm from his presence, a cruel reminder of what had been so abruptly stolen.My gaze drifted to the window, a portal to the darkening night. A convoy of sleek, black cars, their headlights cutting through the gloom, was led by Giovanni’s distinctive vehicle. I watched, a knot tightening in my chest, as the taillights receded, swallowed by the inky blackness, taking with them the warmth, the anticipation, the hope of a shared night.A quick, lukewarm shower did little to wash away the lin

TRISTAN'S POVThe rough ropes chafed against my naked skin, digging deeper with every futile struggle. Vlad Kuznetsov, that smug, entitled bastard, watched me with a predator’s gleam in his eyes, clearly relishing my every snarl and writhe. He’d ripped my shirt off earlier, a deliberate act, just to capture a photograph for Giovanni – a twisted game of provocation. I spat a stream of curses at him, each word laced with the venom of my confinement.“Enjoying the view, Vlad?” I spat, my voice hoarse. “Or are you just admiring your handiwork?”He chuckled, a low, guttural sound that did nothing to endear him to me. “Patience, Tristan. The night is young. And there is much we can learn from each other.”“Learn?” I scoffed, testing the ropes again. They were tight, unyielding. “The only thing I’ve learned from you is that your family tree must be a straight line.”His eyes narrowed slightly, but the smile didn’t falter. “Still so fiery. I like that. It makes the conquest all the sweeter.”

TRISTAN'S POV The red silk bit into my skin as the men tightened the knots. Panic clawed at my throat, but I forced it down. "Stop struggling, you whore," Vlad hissed from the sidelines. "Don't act like you're pure. I'm sure you'll moan later as I pound your hole hard."My glare burned into him. "Maybe if you stop this thing, I'll behave," I spat. "Giovanni doesn't care about me. You're wasting your time on me."A cruel smile twisted Vlad’s lips. He stuffed a cloth in my mouth, silencing me. I thrashed against the restraints, but it was useless.Vlad watched, a hungry gleam in his eyes. "You're lucky that I spare you a glance. You should thank your features, Tristan." He dismissed his men with a wave. "Wait outside. Leave us alone."The door clicked shut, leaving me alone to face my nightmare. Vlad started to undress, his eyes never leaving me. I wanted to scream, to beg, anything to stop what was coming.Suddenly, the room erupted in gunfire. Vlad froze, his meticulously crafted fa

GIOVANNI'S POV Weeks had stretched into months since I’d dragged Tristan from Vlad’s clutches, a ghost of a man with only a flicker of defiance left in his eyes. The memory still sent a cold shiver down my spine, a rare sensation for me. But now, it was as if an invisible reset button had been pressed. Vlad, that sniveling bastard, had vanished, scurrying away like the coward he was. Word on the street was he’d fled the country, probably holed up in some forgotten corner of the world, plotting his next move. Let him plot. I was ready. I always was. Yet, a different kind of normalcy had settled over my life, one I never anticipated. It revolved entirely around Tristan. My mornings started with the subtle creak of the door, then the scent of coffee brewing... always too perfect for my taste. It was the prelude to our daily ritual. “Still limping, caro?” I’d ask, leaning against the kitchen counter, a smirk playing on my lips as he poured his coffee. His back would stiffen. I’d watch h