บททั้งหมดของ Sold To The Mafia Lord: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Lucien didn’t wait.The second Isla dropped her phone, he moved, brutal, precise, lethal.She barely saw his hand before it clamped around her throat and slammed her against the headboard. The gun hit the floor with a metallic clatter. Her breath caught in her chest.“Lucien…please…”“You made a mistake,” he growled, his voice low and savage. “A mistake you won’t live to repeat.”Isla eyes widened, panic replacing seduction. “Lucien, wait…”“You were right,” he whispered coldly, eyes glowing like ice over fire. “I don’t forgive.”And he meant it.His hand moved with terrifying calmness, reaching for the blade hidden in the nightstand drawer. She’d once called it his favorite. He pressed it to her throat.“Lucien, please…..”The slice was silent. Clean.A gasp. A gurgle. Red on silk.And then, Isla collapsed. Just another name in the long list of those who thought they could play him.He didn’t look back. He was already moving.Barefoot, shirtless, blood on his skin, Lucien stormed thro

Emilia couldn’t believe it.This was the same man who had been cold, cruel, and impossible for weeks,towering over her with ice in his veins and shadows in his eyes.But now?Now he seemed… different.Pissed off, yes. Dangerous, absolutely.But underneath the sharp edges, there was something else. Something she hadn’t seen before.Care. Genuine, frantic care.Even if part of her still burned with anger for the way he had treated her, even if every sane part of her mind told her she should hate him… she didn’t.She couldn’t.Because here, wrapped in his sheets, with the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the pillows, she felt safe for the first time in what felt like forever.Not just protected, but seen. Held. Guarded. And God, she hated that she didn’t hate him.Across the room, Lucien paced like a caged animal, fury bleeding from every stiff line of his body. His hands kept disappearing into his pockets, then yanking free in restless, tight movements. His muscles were coiled, his

The storm broke overnight.Not outside, but inside the house.The storm didn’t come with thunder or lightning. It came with boots on marble, with urgent voices tearing through the silence like blades. It came with the hard slam of car doors, the low click of weapons being loaded, and the cold morning light filtering in through the tall windows.Emilia woke to that sound of boots thudding against marble, low voices snapping orders, and the distant slam of car doors. She blinked into the half-light of morning, disoriented, her body still cocooned in Lucien’s oversized sheets.Lucien wasn’t in the room. Her heart kicked painfully in her chest. The place where he had sat last night was cold now. Empty. Panic clawed at her throat before she forced herself to breathe. He said he would protect her. He said she was safe.But safety suddenly felt like a fragile illusion.Emilia pushed the covers aside and rose, her limbs still sore from everything that had happened. Every muscle resisted the mo

The hallway outside his room pulsed with tension. Every step Lucien took away from Emilia felt like peeling off a second skin, one soaked in blood, fear, and restraint.She’d looked at him differently this morning. Not with innocence. Not even with hatred. But with understanding. And that was more dangerous than anything else.He descended the stairs, nodding once at the guards flanking the foyer. The house had turned into a fortress overnight, and still, he wasn’t sure it was enough. Not when someone had dared to send people past his gates. Not when Emilia had nearly been taken.Julio was waiting in the study, dressed in plain black, unarmed, at least visibly. Lucien trusted him. As much as he trusted anyone.“Talk,” Lucien said the second he shut the door behind him.Julio looked up, jaw clenched. “We dug through the burner Isla had on her when you took her out. Wiped, but we recovered a few fragments.”Lucien leaned against the edge of the desk, arms folded. “And?”“There were photo

The sound of the gunfire was distant at first.Lucien paused at the top of the stairs, his hand tightening around the banister. The scent of ash from the hearth still clung to the hallway. He had been heading back to speak to Emilia, to say something, anything, but the sharp, staccato crack of bullets changed everything.Seconds later, the house exploded into motion.“Boss!” someone shouted from below.Lucien was already moving. He descended like a shadow, sharp and fast, heart pounding. By the time he reached the foyer, his men had already flanked the front doors, weapons drawn.“Talk to me,” he ordered.“We’ve got movement at the east gate. Three SUVs, tinted glass. They didn’t stop at the perimeter. Just blew through it like they knew what they were doing.”Lucien’s jaw locked. “Who’s on the gate?”“Marco and Dane.”His two best perimeter guards. Which meant whoever this was… wasn’t stupid.Lucien turned to Matteo. “Get Emilia to the vault. Now.”“She’s in her room…”“Now, Matteo.”