All Chapters of Burn For Me : Bound By The Mafia King: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The basement is silent except for her breathing and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. She sits in the center, wrists locked to the armrests, ankles strapped to the crossbar, chin high though sweat beads at her temples.I hold the knife in a steady grip and draw the edge beneath her ear, across her jaw, down the delicate ridge where pulse meets skin. Her heartbeat flutters under the blade, visible in the hollow of her throat. I angle my wrist a fraction and push. A bead of blood answers, rich and dark against her skin. “Are you working for him?”Her voice stays even. “No.”I study her eyes—wide, unblinking—and wait for the lie to surface. Nothing. Only that quiet statement, repeated on the next breath, rougher this time.“I’m not his spy. I’m not a planted weapon. I never was. All I wanted was a reason why my brothersleft me there. If he knew about it, or if it was planned.”Hurt flickers across her face before she smothers it with anger. For one shallow breath I almost

“I swear to you,” I breathe, voice hoarse, throat aching, “that’s all there was.”Hale’s hands don’t move.They’re still clamped around my arms like iron shackles. I feel his pulse through his grip, wild and erratic. His chest rises in uneven bursts. The veins in his neck are stark beneath his skin.He stares down at me like he’s deciding whether to throw me through the wall or finish what he started in the basement.I’ve seen Hale angry before.But this is something else.His fury has sharpened into something violent—but the kind of violence that pierces the air before it is shown. Him, tearing the room apart was nothing but child’s play.This—whatever is brewing now, was lethal. I could feel it in my bones, deep, and grating.He’s like a predator who’s already decided to kill and is just choosing how.I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until my lungs ache. My hands twitch at my sides. My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.For the first time since this al

I wake up, enveloped in the kind of warmth that reminds me of clouds and sunshine. It’s slow, consuming, that sinks into every inch of me. It’s quiet, except for the soft hum of breath behind my ear and the steady beat of a heart beneath my back. The bed feels like it could swallow me whole.My body is weightless, surrounded on all sides by safety I haven’t felt in… I don’t even know how long.I stay still, eyes closed, not ready to let reality slip in just yet.Fingers trail down my cheek, feather-light and slow. I don’t flinch like I normally would. Nor do I pull away. I just let myself feel it—embrace it.There’s no demand in the touch. Merely the patient glide of skin against skin. A knuckle grazing the side of my jaw, then the back of his hand brushing along my neck. His fingertips trace down again, then slide into my hair, combing lazily through the strands. My scalp tingles as he plays with the pieces at the nape of my neck.For once, I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to thin

The third time nearly knocked us both out.Cali’s draped across my chest, limbs tangled with mine, her breath still uneven as it ghosts along my skin. Her body is flushed, damp with sweat, her hair plastered to her temple. My cock’s finally softened, but the memory of every sound she made—every clench of her body, every cry that escaped her lips—is burned into my mind with no chance of fading.I don’t want to move.But she stirred a moment ago, mumbling something about food.I grab the phone on the nightstand, dial the butler directly, and tell him exactly what I want. No multi-course meal, anything exotic—nor expensive. Just something basic—something I have a feeling Cali would enjoy right now.“Two pizzas,” I order. “Meat-heavy. Add chocolate mousse on the side.”I hang up before he replies.Cali hasn’t moved much. She’s still draped over me like she’s not planning to go anywhere anytime soon. I watch the steady rise and fall of her back, the lazy curve of her ass against my thigh,

Hale doesn’t show for dinner.I sit alone at the long, polished table. A single place setting gleams under the chandelier, like a spotlight meant to mock me. The silverware’s too shiny—the linen napkin’s folded with such neatness, you wouldn’t expect it in the home of the notorious Hellbringer—but at the table of the British royalty instead.I don’t speak to anyone, and no one speaks to me. A small blessing, if anything.I eat in silence. Fast. Each bite is mechanical, tasteless, my jaw working only because I force it to. My throat is tight, but I make myself swallow. Every chew feels like a countdown. I want it over. I need it over.I drain the water in my glass, wiping my mouth and rising in one fast motion—so fast I nearly knock over a pot plant behind me in the process.I make sure no one’s watching me, then leave the dining room and take the stairs—two at a time. I slow at the hallway’s end and glance out the massive window. The sky’s tinted orange and purple, fading into night.