All Chapters of Claimed by the Mafia King : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Alessia's POV I didn't even bother to look at anyone as I walked past—not even Catarina who wore a concerned look on her face—heading for my room. Weird how the woman who was so rude to me last night was now worried about me because I stood up for her. I guess a lot of standing up for your rights didn't happen here often. But I didn't care about that. I didn't want anything to bother me. Not when I had lost sight of what really mattered to me. The moment I opened the door to the room I was assigned to and slid in, everything broke. The walls I had put up for years, they all came crumbling down. Tears spilled out of the corners of my eyes as I slammed the door, my legs buckling, my body crumpling on the floor. Suddenly, it felt like I was there again.The memory slammed into me with such force that it stole the air from my lungs.I could see the hospital, too bright and too cold, its fluorescent lights buzzing overhead like angry wasps. The sterile sting of antiseptic that filled

Alessia’s POVI shot up with a gasp, clutching my chest like the fire was still eating through me. My lungs burned, my throat was dry, and my body trembled as if I had just been dragged out of hell itself.For a long moment, I just sat there, trying to block the sun rays that spilled through the cracks in the drapes, my heartbeat thunderous in my ears. My mouth felt like sandpaper. Desperate, I turned toward the little table tucked in the corner of my room and stumbled over to it, nearly tripping on the edge of the carpet.My hands fumbled with the jug before I managed to pour water into the glass. It sloshed, spilling down my wrist, but I didn’t care. I brought it to my lips and downed the whole thing in one breath, then another. The cool liquid slid down my throat, soothing the desert my mouth had become, but it did nothing for the unease clawing inside me.Because I wasn’t sure what I had just seen.It was a dream—or at least, it should have been. But it felt too vivid, too real,

Alessia’s POVI brushed the thought away. Why waste my time thinking about something like that?Besides, this was my chance to leave this house. It was handed to me on a platter of gold. So, I had to make use of it.I showered and dressed like freedom was a person and that I wanted to seduce him.Not too much, of course—I wasn’t about to show up in sequins and stilettos—but just enough to remind myself that I was still human and not some live-in doctor-and-dog mixed-breed creature. I pulled on jeans that hugged all the right places, a white blouse that said, I’m civilized, thank you very much, and sneakers because… well, running might actually be on the agenda. A little mascara, some lip gloss—because I might be emotionally unhinged, but my eyelashes didn’t have to suffer.Halfway through brushing my hair, I caught myself staring in the mirror. And there he was again. Damiano. Not literally behind me, (thank God, I would have screamed and launched the hairbrush at him) but in my head

Alessia’s POVLeo’s silence after that speech of his should’ve been comforting, but instead it gnawed at me, digging under my skin like a splinter I couldn’t pull out. I stared at him, at the sharp lines of his jaw, at the way his eyes refused to meet mine.What did he mean by Damiano being a monster I had never met before. What did he know about monsters? I've dealt with them all my life. They came in different sizes, heights, genders, skin, and clothes—all offering to treat my brother and me better than the other would've. So, yeah. I've seen enough.My chest tightened with a mixture of defiance and curiosity, and before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.“You know nothing about me, Leo. Nothing about what I’ve been through, seen, or what I’ve survived. But I know enough about Damiano. He’s a killer. And killers like him don’t deserve freedom. They deserve to be locked up for eternity—or better yet, put down like a—”The car screeched to a halt so suddenly as he slammed t

Alessia’s POVThe car was silent again. No more stories, no more confessions. Just the weight of everything hanging between us, suffocating and relentless.Then the locks clicked, releasing my door with a sound that felt too loud, too final.I sat there for a second, fingers resting on the handle but unmoving, because even with my way open, something in his words had rooted me in place. As much as I wanted to brush off his confession, as much as I wanted to cling to the hatred that kept me sane, a small voice whispered that Leo wasn’t lying.And I hated that.I hated that the part of me that wanted to believe him was louder than I wanted it to be.For the first time, I realized Leo wasn’t just Damiano’s shadow. He was another prisoner—one who had chosen his cage. And maybe that was why his words clung to me, even as I tried to shake them off.Because no matter how tightly I wrapped myself in anger, no matter how sharp my tongue, his confession had cracked something open inside me.An