All Chapters of Claimed By The Mafia Boss: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

CHAPTER 81LUCAThey dragged him in like a sack of meat.The warehouse was silent, save for the harsh sound of boots on concrete and the distant clatter of metal. I stood near the center, gloves already on, sleeves rolled up. Matteo gave me a nod as the two men shoved the bastard onto the chair. He hit the backrest hard and groaned, his lip already split, nose leaking blood."Luca," the guard said, breathing hard, "We caught him two blocks from our perimeter. Trying to make a call."I stepped forward slowly. The overhead light cast shadows across the man's bruised face. He looked familiar. I crouched, grabbing his chin and tilting it up."Jules." His name rolled off my tongue like venom. "Damian's errand boy. I should've known he'd send you eventually."Jules spat blood at my feet."You think this will stop him? You're too late."I stood. Smiled. "We'll see."I motioned to Matteo. He tossed me a short crowbar. Not elegant, but effective."Tell me something, Jules," I said, pacing slow

CHAPTER 83ADRIENWhen I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was how quiet it was.Not peaceful, quiet. No. This was the kind that made your skin crawl. Too heavy. Too empty.The sheets were too soft. The air smelled like polished wood and money. The ceiling was white. Higher than it should be.Not Luca’s place.I stayed there, staring at the ceiling, counting cracks I couldn’t find. My body felt like lead. My chest like it had caved in. I thought about moving—just to prove I could—but the thought was exhausting.“Finally awake?”Lucien’s voice.I turned my head slowly. He was sitting in an armchair near the window, jacket off, sleeves rolled, looking like he’d been there all night. Like he had nothing better to do.I didn’t answer.He stood, crossed the room, and set a tray on the nightstand. The smell hit me—warm food. Eggs. Toast. Soup maybe. My stomach twisted, but not in hunger. More like nausea.“Eat something,” he said.I stared at the tray, then back at him. “No.”His br

CHAPTER 85LUCADays bled together. But no Adrien. I hadn’t smiled in weeks. Not once. Not even when Matteo tried to lighten the mood. Not even when Damon cracked a joke. All I felt was hollow. Like someone carved me open and left me to rot. Until tonight. Matteo burst into my office, phone in hand, eyes sharp. “We picked up chatter. A courier mentioned someone fitting his description. North side. Safehouse.” Adrien. The name never left Matteo’s lips, but we both knew. My lips curved before I could stop it. My first smile in days. A small, vicious thing. Finally. “Good,” I murmured, voice low. “Very good.” Matteo studied me. “What do you want me to do?” “Di

CHAPTER 87ADRIEN I couldn’t stop pacing. My steps echoed across Lucien’s polished floor, back and forth like a trapped animal. The silence of his house pressed against my ears until I wanted to claw at them. “Adrien.” Lucien’s voice broke the air, calm but firm. “Sit down. You’re wearing yourself thin.” “I can’t,” I snapped, running my hands through my hair. My skin felt like it was crawling. “I can’t just—just sit there. If I stop moving, my head—” I pressed my fists against my temples. “It won’t shut up.” Lucien stood, stepping into my path. He caught my shoulders, steadying me. “Look at me.” I tried, but my eyes slipped away. “I don’t want to. You’ll see it.” “See what?” he asked softly. “The mess,” I whispered. “The cracks. The things that won’t stop coming back.” He squeezed my shoulders. “That’s why you

CHAPTER 89ADRIEN The first thing that pulled me out of the black haze was the sound of pounding. It was muffled at first, blending into the echo of my dreams, but then it grew sharper, closer, a relentless hammering against my door.“Adrien,” Lucien’s voice cut through, tight with worry. “Open the door.”For a moment I just lay there on the floor, cheek pressed to the boards, staring at the faint line of blood smeared beside my arm. My body felt heavy, my skin raw and burning, but it was the weight in my chest that made it almost impossible to move. I could taste the dryness of my throat, taste the copper that lingered in the air.The pounding came again. “Adrien. I swear if you don’t open this—”“I’m fine,” I croaked, my voice barely more than a rasp. I pushed myself upright, every muscle trembling, and staggered toward the bed to make it look like I’d just woken up. “I just overslept. Stop banging.”There was a pause, heavy silence pressed against the wood, before Lucien’s voice s