Lahat ng Kabanata ng Claimed By The Mafia Boss: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

CHAPTER 2I woke up to the feel of silk against my skin.My brows furrowed as I sat up slowly, head pounding.The room around me wasn’t familiar — not even close. It was too polished, too rich, like the kind of place you'd see in a magazine for people who had more money than sense. Dark wood, gold accents, a chandelier glittering overhead. Heavy curtains blocked out any view of the outside world."What the hell..." I muttered, swinging my legs off the massive bed. My boots were gone, but I was still fully clothed otherwise.Before I could even get to my feet, the door clicked open.A man stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind him.He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms. His hair was dark, swept back neatly, and his jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes, though—those were the kind of eyes that didn't just look at you. They read you.I stared at him, silent.The man tilted his head, smiling fai

CHAPTER 4LUCA MORETTI - POVDamon stormed into my office, tossing his jacket onto the nearest chair with more force than necessary."If I hear one more word out of that kid's mouth, I'm gonna lose it," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.I didn't even glance up from the papers in front of me. "You survived a three-hour flight with him. Congratulations."Damon shot me a look. "He's chatty. And annoying. And flirty. For someone who just got kidnapped, you'd think he'd be a little less—" he made an explosive gesture with his hands, "—alive."I exhaled slowly, signing the last page of the document. "Where is he?""Guest bedroom," Damon muttered. "Already settled in like he owns the place. Little shit. Anyway, I gotta head out — call me if he tries to set the place on fire or something."He grabbed his keys and left without another word.I stood, rolling my shoulders, and made my way down the hall. The guest rooms were at the far end. Safer that way.The door was slightly ajar.

Chapter 6AdrienI was starting to lose my mind.The Moretti mansion was all glass. Everything was expensive, cold, dead. Like a really stylish coffin.Day six, I think. Maybe eight. My phone had been taken the moment I was snatched. No signal. No Wi-Fi. No internet. No nothing.And I was surrounded by men who looked like they could crush me with a stare.Well, most of them. The guards weren’t exactly chatty, and none of them seemed interested in entertaining a kidnapped rich boy with a sarcastic streak. One glared at me for humming a Beyoncé song. Another threatened to break my fingers if I touched the piano in the east wing again. Naturally, I played two songs after that just to see if he’d follow through.He didn’t. Coward.I was going insane. No news, no distractions, no dopamine. Just me and my thoughts.And the faint scent of Luca Moretti’s cologne in the halls.Don’t think about him.But I did. Constantly.The first time I saw him, it was like getting hit with a storm. Cold, ru

Chapter 8Luca"He’s in the east wing again."I didn’t look up from the monitor. Adrien—half dressed, barefoot, and eating an apple like he owned the place. Again.Reckless little shit.The feed crackled slightly as the camera tracked him. He lingered near the armory door, eyes flitting to the guard stationed there. I watched the way he grinned at the man, all teeth and bait. The guard looked away. Smart.I wasn’t sure if Adrien did it because he was fearless, or because he didn’t know any better. Maybe both. Maybe he didn’t care what I could do to him."You’re watching him again," Damon muttered from behind me."Shut up.""It’s been three hours.""And yet you’re still talking."He snorted and crossed the room. I heard the metallic click of his lighter, the faint scent of tobacco."You think he knows something?""I think he’s a fucking idiot. But he’s not stupid. There’s a difference."On the monitor, Adrien spun in slow circles in the hallway, arms out like a dancer, as if he could w

CHAPTER 10LUCAThe warehouse reeked of gun oil and burnt silence. I stepped over a broken pallet and scanned the floor. Damon trailed behind me, his flashlight casting long, shaky shadows across the concrete."No forced entry," he said, kneeling to examine the lock. "Clean burn through the hinges. They knew what they were doing.""Looped the feed," I muttered, crouching beside him. I touched the singed edge of the metal. Still faintly warm. "Twelve minutes, in and out. Precise."Damon nodded. "Left everything. No crates touched. Just the card."I pulled a cigarette from my coat and lit it, the flame briefly illuminating the space. "They wanted to rattle me.""Did it work?"I blew smoke out slowly. "No. But it pissed me off."He chuckled. "I figured."We swept the rest of the place in silence. The golden snake on the card had curled itself into my mind like a brand. Val de Oro. Quiet, elite, and cruel. This wasn’t about the product. This was about message control.By the time we left,