All Chapters of Claimed By The Mafia Boss: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

CHAPTER 22LUCAMy pen scratched against the final page of a multi-million-dollar merger—second one today—and my neck ached from the hours hunched over my desk. The office had grown quiet. Even Liana had left at seven sharp.I rubbed the back of my neck, leaned back in my chair, and exhaled.Where the hell was Adrien?I tapped the intercom. “Adrien.”No answer.I frowned, standing up. “Adrien,” I said again, this time louder as I opened my door.And there he was.Asleep on the leather couch outside my office, one arm curled beneath his head, long lashes resting on flushed cheeks, his lips slightly parted in a way that made my breath hitch.God.I stood there a moment too long. Just staring like a fucking creep.His shirt had come slightly untucked, revealing a slim strip of skin at his waist. His lips—full, soft, obscene. The kind of lips a man wanted wrapped around something filthy. I didn’t even realize I was imagining it until I shifted and felt the tight pressure in my pants.“Fuc

CHAPTER 24LUCAI couldn’t sleep.The office work was finished. Every file signed, every message replied to, every possible distraction exhausted.Still, my eyes kept drifting to the hallway outside my room. It was nearing four in the morning, and Adrien hadn’t made a single sound. He was usually tossing around in his room by now. But tonight? Nothing.And the storm outside still hadn’t let up. Thunder cracked again, loud and close. I ran a hand down my face, jaw clenched. I wasn’t worried. He was probably fine. Probably sleeping.Still—I rose from the leather chair in my room, ran a hand through my hair, and walked down the hallway barefoot. I didn’t bother knocking.The door wasn’t even locked.The lights were off. The curtains drawn. The bed untouched.And Adrien—“Adrien?” I called, voice firm but quiet.No response.I stepped inside. Cold air hit me first. Then—Then I saw him.Collapsed on the bathroom floor, curled in on himself. Shirt half off. Skin pale with sweat.But that

CHAPTER 26LUCAThe smell of dark roast filled the kitchen as I stood by the window, coffee steaming in one hand, silence thick in the air. I hadn’t slept much—not since that night. Adrien had been locked in that room for two days. Refusing food. Avoiding me.And then this morning, like nothing happened, he came down the stairs all smiles, like sunshine after a damn hurricane.“Good morning,” Adrien said cheerfully, bare feet padding against the floor, hair still damp from a shower, skin too pale for my liking—but his grin? Fucking blinding.I blinked at him over the rim of my mug. “You good?”“Never better.” He leaned on the kitchen island, picked up a piece of fruit, then popped a grape into his mouth with a wink. “Ready to work.”I raised a brow. “You don’t look ready. You look like someone who needs another day in bed.”He rolled his eyes dramatically, tossing another grape between his lips. “You keeping me in this house is more cruel than kidnapping me.”“You were kidnapped,” I d

CHAPTER 28LUCAI could hear myself breathing harder than I should’ve been. Adrien was beside me in the backseat, one leg crossed over the other like he hadn’t just undone every system I spent years perfecting. And somehow, he was still looking at me like I was the problem.I leaned against the window, dragging a hand down my face. “He’s just provoking you,” I muttered under my breath. “He’s just a brat. You’re not—”“Home or work, sir?” the driver asked through the partition, voice casual like I wasn’t in the middle of a crisis.I looked at Adrien. He raised an eyebrow, then smirked—smirked. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking.“Fuck it,” I muttered. “Home. Take a detour through the hills.”“Yes, sir.”Adrien let out a low laugh. “You really don’t do well with impulse control, huh?”I cut my eyes toward him. “You think this is for you?”“Oh no,” he said, leaning in, voice low and sweet and venomous. “This is clearly just a straight man having a very straight day.”“Don’t start.

CHAPTER 30LUCAI told him to take another car.It was simple. I didn’t want to see his face. Not after last night. Not after the shit he said. Not after the things I let him do—the things I did. I needed space. Silence. Control.“Take the black SUV,” I’d said that morning without looking at him. “You’re not coming with me.”He’d looked at me, jaw tight. “Fine. Coward.”I ignored him. I had to ignore him.He left. I left. That should’ve been the end of it.But it wasn’t.Thirty minutes into my meeting, I checked my phone. Nothing.Forty-five minutes. Still nothing.I texted him.Where are you?No response.I called the driver. It rang. No answer.I called Adrien. Straight to voicemail.Something in my stomach twisted. Uneasy. Cold.I tried the driver again.Nothing.Again.Nothing.And then the silence stopped being about avoidance, and started tasting like danger.I stood up from the conference table mid-sentence.“Mr. Moretti?” one of the board members asked.“Handle it,” I muttere