All Chapters of Sold To The Mafia Lord: Chapter 211 - Chapter 220

Sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, but it did little to warm Emilia’s chest. She blinked, stretching lazily, only to realize the bed beside her was empty.Her first thought. Lucien.Panic fluttered in her chest as she scanned the room. No sign of him, the faint scent of him lingering in the air, but he was gone.A pang of disappointment twisted in her stomach. Part of her was still floating from the sex, the raw, consuming fire they had shared. And yet now… now she felt a strange hollow where his warmth had been.Her mind raced. Had she been too much? Too eager? She rose slowly, trying to feel better, but the emptiness felt deafening.Emilia sank back onto the bed, running her fingers over the sheets he had just vacated. His absence was sudden, jarring, and a bitter ache settled in her chest.A mix of emotions swirled in her, longing, frustration, and… yes, the faintest hint of feeling used. She had given herself to him completely without thinking about how treated her whe

Lucien’s boots pressed against the polished floor of the control room, his chest still pulsing with the adrenaline of the battle raging outside. Through the monitors, the estate’s defenses, corridors, and perimeter were fully under his control. He had realized last minutes he needs to strategically draw Santiago out of his sanctuary. “Hold positions here,” he commanded. His voice was calm, precise. “Santiago will come out. We have the estate. Nothing else matters...yet.”His men, sharp and disciplined, took positions without question. Alarms still rang in the distance, gunfire echoed through empty halls, but in this room, Lucien had absolute authority. He has taken control of the control room while Santiago cowardly hides in his office with his men standing guards, protecting him. Yet a smirk tugged at his lips. Santiago was clever, cunning, and ruthless. He had survived longer than most rivals, relied on strategies no one could predict. But Lucien had anticipated one thing. Santiago

Lucien stepped forward, boots echoing against the debris strewn hall. Santiago’s eyes burned with fury, his daughter clinging to him for support. The estate, once a fortress, was now a battlefield littered with destruction.“You thought you could hide your sins,” Lucien said, his voice low, deliberate. “You thought you could come for me and my house and killed my brother without no consequences. But every action has consequences.”Santiago’s hands trembled, gun still raised, but rage alone would not save him. Lucien’s men held positions, silent but alert, watching every move.Lucien took a step closer, letting the weight of his words sink in. “You took from me. You destroyed. You killed. Now… you’ll understand the cost.”He raised his gun, the barrel cold and steady, eyes locked on Santiago’s daughter. “This… is for Julio.”****Time slowed. Lucien’s hand did not waver. The girl’s scream cut through the chaos, but it only fueled his resolve.“This is how it feels,” he said, voice cutti

Emilia sat on the floor of her room, her back pressed against the wall, legs stretched out in front of her. The soft hum of music floated through her headphones, but it barely reached her ears. She had slipped into her robe hours ago, seeking comfort in its warmth, but even that couldn’t soothe the tight coil of anger and frustration twisting in her chest.Lucien had her.Without a word. She had thought he is be back, thought they would have a quiet night to recover from everything… but instead, he had left for war without a proper goodbye, leaving her alone to wrestle with the emptiness of his absence and this feeling of being used. Her fingers absently traced the grooves in the wooden floor. She wanted to scream, to pound the walls, to make the world hear the frustration she’d been bottling up for weeks. But she couldn’t. She could only lie there, letting the music pulse through her like a faint heartbeat in the dark.Emilia clenched her fists, eyes closing tightly, trying to will a

Lucien stepped fully into the bedroom.The lights were off. The curtains were half drawn, letting the faint glow of the estate lamps bleed through the glass. The room smelled faintly of her, soft, warm, familiar, but it felt wrong. Not empty. Not abandoned.Disturbed.Something in his chest tightened the moment he crossed the threshold, a subtle constriction he ignored at first. He had walked into rooms filled with blood and death without hesitation, but this silence felt sharper. More personal.His eyes moved first, scanning the space the way they always did when he entered a room, out of habit, out of instinct, out of survival. He catalogued everything in seconds.The bed was untouched.No indentation on the mattress. No crease in the sheets. No sign she had been there recently.His jaw tightened.A flicker of irritation crossed his face, quickly smothered. Emilia was unpredictable when she was upset. She could be stubborn. Withdrawn. Cold when she wanted to be.“She must be in the b