Lahat ng Kabanata ng A Pet For The Two Mafia Dons : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

Chapter 62: The Mask She WoreThe Ferrero fortress became Elena’s stage, and every step she took was calculated. She quickly learned that survival here didn’t depend on brute strength or obedience—it depended on performance. Every smile, every defiant glance, every carefully timed silence became part of the role she played: the daughter returned, the heir apparent.She woke each morning to silk sheets and the smell of expensive cigars drifting through the halls. Guards escorted her to lavish breakfasts where Ferrero’s capos watched her like hawks. They wanted weakness. They wanted proof that she was just Gabriel’s broken pet. Elena gave them nothing. She met every stare head-on, chin lifted, eyes cold.Inside, though, she was fraying. Nights were the hardest. The sea thundered against the cliffs, the storm winds rattling the windows. In those moments she wanted nothing more than Gabriel’s commanding voice, Alessio’s steady presence—even Lucas’s quiet defiance. But she forced herself t

Chapter 64: The Daughter’s Rebellion The storm outside lashed against the fortress walls as if the sea itself was raging at Ferrero. Elena stood at the tall windows, her reflection staring back like a stranger—silk dress hugging her curves, hair tied in a crown braid, her scar faint but visible in the candlelight. She had played the role so well these past days that the capos now bowed slightly when she walked past, muttering la principessa under their breath. She was Ferrero’s daughter in their eyes. But inside, she was still Elena, and she knew if she didn’t act soon, she’d drown in this new identity until nothing of herself remained. Ferrero had called for her again tonight. She crossed the marble hall toward the council chamber where his men waited with sharp smiles and sharper knives. The air smelled of cigars, iron, and expensive cologne. As she entered, Ferrero’s voice boomed. “My daughter joins us. Sit.” The long table gleamed with crystal glasses and untouched plates o

Chapter 66: MarkedElena woke with sunlight kissing her skin, but the warmth only reminded her of the heat from the night before. Her body ached in ways she couldn’t hide. Every inch of her was alive with memory—bruises blooming on her wrists where Alessio’s grip had been unrelenting, hickeys painted across her throat and collarbone where Gabriel’s mouth had branded her, the raw shiver of skin that felt claimed, owned.She pulled the sheets higher, groaning. The faint scent of smoke and leather still clung to her—them, lingering, inescapable. Her pulse quickened at the thought, even as her pride screamed against it.Knocks rattled the door. Too sharp, too early.“Elena,” a maid called softly. “Breakfast.”She dragged herself from the bed, still unsteady. When she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her breath caught. The collar of her nightdress slipped lower, exposing the constellation of hickeys blotched across her skin, deep and dark. Her scar was framed by them, no longer somet

Chapter 68: Branded Twice OverThe knock at her door was sharp, too sharp for morning. Elena pulled the robe tighter across her chest, trying to hide the bruises scattered over her skin. But the mirror had already told her what she feared: no robe, no silk scarf, no shadow of powder could erase what Gabriel and Alessio had done the night before.She was still theirs. Written into her body in purple and red.“Elena.” A guard’s voice carried through the wood. “Don Ferrero requires you in the council chamber.”Her stomach knotted.When she entered the chamber, silence hit like a slap. The long table gleamed under chandeliers, filled with Ferrero’s capos, wives in glittering dresses, allies in heavy suits. Their eyes found her at once. They didn’t need to speak. The whispers were already knives.Look at her neck… Bruises… They’re not Ferrero’s.Ferrero himself sat at the head, regal in his black suit. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, his gaze pausing on her throat. “My daughter,” he s

Chapter 70: The Sound of War in the WallsElena did not sleep. Not after Ferrero’s velvet threat, not after Alessio’s whisper at her throat, not after the biker’s engine faded into night like a promise she couldn’t let herself believe. She sat at the edge of her bed with her hands knotted in the sheets, the leather band against her scar humming faintly like a live wire. Every beat of her pulse reminded her of cages—Ferrero’s crown, Alessio’s claim, Gabriel’s fire.When dawn broke, the mansion already thrummed with preparation. She could hear it through the walls: crates moved, orders barked, boots pounding. War never slept, and she was its newest soldier whether she wanted to be or not.The knock at her door came sharp again. “Breakfast with Don Ferrero.”She almost laughed. As if a meal could make her stomach hold steady.In the dining hall, the tension was thicker than the smoke curling from Ferrero’s cigar. Capos sat stiffly, eyes flicking between Ferrero and Elena. They didn’t nee