All Chapters of Sold To The Mafia Lord: Chapter 171 - Chapter 180

Lucien moved through the quiet of the estate with the ease of a man who had walked these halls a thousand times, each step deliberate, each breath measured. The early light of morning cut through the curtains of the bedroom where Emilia waited, the soft glow outlining her figure in the robe he had left behind last night. She was still there, still waiting, and yet, impossibly distant.He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to. Every inch of him was attuned to the storm outside, the tension in the air, the sense of imminent attack, the knowledge that the Vulture and the syndicate were making their moves. Every moment was precious, every second a luxury he didn’t have.Emilia lifted her eyes when he entered. No warmth. No invitation. Just that taut, sharp tension he had come to expect from her, from the night she had arrived in his house as a slave to the woman who now challenged him at every turn. The fire in her eyes was no longer purely desire. It was defiance, fear, and a dangerous curiosit

The first scream reached him between gunfire.Lucien turned sharply, the echo of Emilia’s voice slicing through the chaos, raw, desperate, and alive. For a split second, the sound cut deeper than the bullets tearing into the walls around him. Then the instincts returned. His jaw tightened, and he dove behind cover as another blast ripped through the west corridor.“Move!” he barked, voice sharp, cold, unflinching.The Moretti estate, once a fortress of marble and silence, was now a war zone. Smoke crawled through the chandeliers. Gunfire cracked like thunder. The men all from multiples mafia houses had breached the eastern wing, and the Santiago’s men was closing in from the main gate. Every inch of ground was a battlefield, and every breath a gamble.Lucien rose, firing two precise shots. Both hit their marks. Blood splattered the marble, mixing with the ash of burning curtains.“Raul, flank them through the corridor!” Lucien shouted. “Seal off the lower halls, no one comes through

The walls shook.Gunfire thundered through the estate like an angry god, rattling the chandeliers and splintering the doors. Smoke crept under the crack of Emilia’s door, choking the air, and with every distant shout, her pulse stuttered faster.Lucien had told her to stay put. To lock the door. To not move.But then she heard it.Two guards posted outside her room, whispering in panic.“Boss is hit.”“Shot near the shoulder, Raul’s trying to hold the east, but...”“Christ, if he goes down, it’s over...”Her breath hitched. The world blurred.Lucien.For a moment, she just stood there, hand trembling on her chest. The weight of those words sank into her bones. He’d been shot. Out there, alone, bleeding, while she hid in this gilded cage like some useless thing.“No,” she whispered, shaking her head, voice cracking. “No, no, no.”She grabbed the gun he had given her, the same one she had once refused to touch, and yanked open the drawer. Her fingers brushed metal, cold and heavy.Emilia

Smoke choked the air. The marble halls that once glittered with chandeliers now reeked of gunpowder, fire, and blood. The Moretti estate, their kingdom, was dying around her.Emilia pressed her back to the wall, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. She shouldn’t be here. Lucien had ordered her to stay hidden. But the moment she heard the guards whisper outside her door...“Boss is shot” something inside her snapped.Fear stopped being a cage. It became fuel.She gripped her gun tighter, slipping out from the shadows of the hallway. Bodies littered the floor, friends, enemies, she couldn’t tell. Blood pooled in the seams of the marble, black under the flicker of firelight. The echo of gunfire throbbed through the corridors like a heartbeat.Her hand trembled as she raised the weapon for the first time.Then, she saw one of Santiago’s men turn the corner, rifle raised.He didn’t even see her coming.The shot cracked through the smoke, sharp and final.The man dropped.For a momen

The night no longer had a name.Only sound. Fire. Blood.Lucien moved through it like a curse wearing skin.The man who had screamed over Julio’s body was gone, what rose from that floor was something older , a king stripped of mercy. His clothe was torn and soaked through, the left side glistening with another man’s blood. His eyes burned pale, almost colorless, as if grief had burned everything soft inside him and left only ruin.Every step he took was deliberate. Calculated.Every bullet, personal.The first one fell before he knew he had pulled the trigger.Then another.And another.Lucien’s hand was steady now , too steady. He didn’t flinch when the walls exploded beside him, or when a man begged for his life. His mind was a quiet storm. They took my brother. So I’ll take their world.Raul’s voice barked through the radio, rough and breaking. “Boss, we’ve cleared the west wing…”“Level it,” Lucien said. His tone was flat, almost polite. “No house, no ghost, no survivors.”“Lucie