All Chapters of KIDNAPPED BY THE SILVER MAFIA DON: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The journey back to the house is silent, but not in an uncomfortable manner. The burden that typically weighs down our relationship feels less heavy, even if only slightly. I gaze out the window, observing the city lights twinkle as we pass by. It still feels odd being outdoors after such an extended period, as if I've entered a realm that no longer belongs to me. Raymond is next to me, his fingers gently tapping on his knee. He hasn't spoken much since I consented to remain. Perhaps he worries I'll have a change of heart. Perhaps he's unsure of what to say now that I have. The car decelerates when we arrive at the gates of his home-our home, I suppose. The guards move aside as the gates swing open, permitting us entry. As soon as the car halts in the driveway, Raymond exits and moves to open my door. I lift an eyebrow. "You realize I can open a door on my own, correct?" He grins slyly. "I will." I exhale with annoyance but grasp his hand regardless. The heat of his touch on my h

Raymond starts to devote more time to me. Initially, I believe it's merely a coincidence-him discovering me in the library, joining me for meals, or walking by when I'm in the garden. However, I quickly understand that it's deliberate. He's trying to be near me, to communicate with me, to ensure I feel like... I fit in here. I'm unsure of the reason. Perhaps he feels remorse for all that has occurred. Perhaps he's simply uninterested. Or perhaps, beneath the surface, he genuinely appreciates having me around. One evening, following dinner, he trails me to the lounge. I settle on the couch, tucking my legs beneath me, while he occupies the chair opposite me. "You never inquire about anything," he suddenly remarks. I look up, bewildered. "What are you trying to say?" "Many individuals are interested in learning about me." He reclines, supporting his arm on the chair's side. "They seek to understand my identity, my origins, and my activities." "Yet you... you never inquire." I rais

Raymond undergoes a transformation following that evening. At first, it's understated-small details that I nearly overlook. He begins to place small presents outside my door-items I never request but somehow require. A cozy sweater for those chilly nights. A book I briefly referred to before. A fragile bracelet, the sort I would have adorned when my life was truly my own. I can't comprehend why he does it. I don't inquire. However, every time I awaken to discover another present, my heart constricts with an emotion I hesitate to label. Raymond Silver lacks love. He is indifferent. And still... I notice it in how he observes me when he believes I'm unaware. The manner in which his hands hover when he gives me something. How his expression gently softens, just a little, whenever I talk. He does not utter the words. However, I sense them. The Issue with Love One night, Lorenzo brings a parcel to my room. In contrast to the rest, this one is covered in silver paper and securely

The atmosphere surrounding us is dense, filled with a sensation I can't quite grasp. I remain stuck in position, my back against the wall. Raymond is in front of me, his shirt drenched with the blood of another man. The metallic aroma hangs in the air, potent and overwhelming. His deep-set eyes remain fixed on mine. He is anticipating something. Perhaps he's anticipating that I will flee, shout, or plead. However, I engage in none of those activities. I cannot. I can't figure out what's the matter with me. Raymond raises his hand, the one still smeared with blood, and holds it near my face. I recoil, my breath catching. However, rather than making contact with me, he grins and wipes it on his shirt. "You're not sprinting," he states, his tone subdued, nearly playful. I gulp, my throat parched. "Am I supposed to?" He inclines slightly, his eyes darting to my lips for a brief moment before going back to my gaze. "Indeed." I sense my heart pounding in my chest, urging me to go,

As soon as I hear her voice, a chill runs through my entire body. I can tell who it is without needing to face them. That piercing, authoritative voice. That presence that causes the atmosphere in the room to change. Georgia Silver. Raymond's mom. My breath halts in my throat as I turn gradually, my heart racing. And there she stands, in the middle of the living room as if she controls the universe. Her sleek, dark dress clings to her tall figure, and her striking blue eyes-resembling Raymond's-examine the room with a look of hardly masked disdain. Next to her is a man I have encountered only once before-Raymond's father, a silent but similarly imposing figure. However, it's she who frightens me the most. My abdomen contorts in agony. I recognize that expression in her gaze. She doesn't have to vocalize it-I can already perceive it in my mind. What on earth is she still doing here? "Raymond," Georgia says, her tone cutting like a knife. "We arrived to talk business, but instead