All Chapters of I Saved the Mafia Boss—Now I'm His Obsession. : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 I looked around the room, heart racing so hard I could barely hear anything over the pulse pounding in my ears. The doors were still swinging, he’d been here. I wasn’t imagining it. I could still feel the imprint of his hand,.first over my eyes, then at my neck. My skin remembered the pressure. The warmth. The fear. I reached up without thinking and touched my throat, as if I could wipe away the memory. My fingers were cold and I was shaking. I stood up off the floor, legs unsteady, and dusted off my uniform pants even though I didn’t care how I looked. My eyes burned from the tears I was too scared to cry, and I hated that my chest kept hiccupping like I couldn’t catch my breath. Then I heard the buzz. My phone lit up from where I’d tossed it on the table. I lunged for it, fumbling with clumsy hands. My screen unlocked on instinct, and his number glowed at the top of the thread. Unknown: Now you take me seriously? My stomach flipped violently. I

Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ The kitchen staff were already filtering in, hands full of porcelain and silver, fresh pastries, fruits, and whatever vegan alchemy Claire had somehow managed to conjure for the little sunshine currently seated next to me. Madeleine was trying to disappear into the breakfast chair like she wasn’t used to being anywhere so comfortable. Her curls were still a little wild from sleep, and she kept pushing a strand behind her ear every few seconds without realizing it. She looked like she didn’t know what to do with all this. Claire swept in placing a perfectly balanced plate of tofu scramble, roasted tomatoes, and avocado toast in front of Madeleine like it was Michelin-star magic. She smiled down at her. “Vegan. And I made sure the toast didn’t touch the eggs,” she said gently, then turned to me with a look. “Try not to be disgusting for ten minutes.” “No promises,” I muttered, then looked over at sunshine, leaned in. “You better eat every bite. Claire’s the type to c

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of emotional manipulation, coercion, sexual insecurity, psychological manipulation, coercion, and trauma-related thoughts. ⚠️ Reader Warning: Please remember, no one should ever be forced or pressured into anything like this. If you’re reading and feeling uncomfortable, it’s okay to take a break or skip ahead. Your feelings and boundaries always come first. Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 My hands were shaking. I stared at the screen like it had teeth and every new message felt like a bite, designed to make me bleed. Unknown: Now we’re getting somewhere. Unknown: You’ll do anything? Then show me. Me: No, I already regret the one I sent you. You just want more leverage on me. What would Adriano do if he knew? Would he still look at me the same? Or would this make me dirty in his eyes? Unknown: Come on, Madeleine. You don’t even know how to please a man. Why don’t you try it with me? I’ll show you how, before you get the chance to

Madeleine 𓎢𓎠𑄻𑄾𓎠𓎡 I sat on the stainless steel stool, one gloved hand gently bracing a very grumpy gray tabby named Junebug as she flicked her tail and made her displeasure loudly known to the room. “Watch the hind leg,” Professor Kline said, half-distracted as he passed behind me, “They’re quick when they want to be.” “I know, I know,” I murmured, more to Junebug than to him, “I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. Just checking your pads. That’s all.” Her ear flicked as if in acknowledgment. The room buzzed with the sounds of clippers, conversations, and the occasional bark from the adjacent kennel room. My partner for the day, Samira, was focused on prepping the next set of nail trimming supplies, her black curls tucked into a tight bun, eyes narrowed in concentration. I should’ve been focused. I wanted to be. But my phone sat in the pocket of my scrub top. Every few minutes I imagined it vibrating. I imagined him messaging again. He hadn’t. Not since last night. Not s

Adriano ⫘☠︎︎⫘ The second the heavy doors shut behind us, the old man’s voice hit like a brick. “I guess your little blackmail worked,” Dad muttered, already halfway to his desk. I dropped into the nearest leather chair, legs stretched out, boots up on the overpriced wood of his desk, “Of course it worked,” I said, “I sent it.” He let out that signature disappointed exhale, like every breath out of me was one more nail in his patience. Then he glanced at Vincenzo, looking for someone with a working brain. “We’re gonna set up a meeting with Rino,” he said, “We’ll return Deo... after Rino accepts our terms.” Vincenzo didn’t even blink at first, just raised both eyebrows, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. I sat up fast, boots dropping to the floor with a thud. “Wait—what? We’re giving him back?” I asked, because there was no way in hell Vincenzo would agree to it, “He’s not just anyone, he’s their fucking underboss, Dad. We’re holding their spine in our fist and you wa