All Chapters of I AM YOURS TO PLAY: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Chapter 72: Mr. LoverETHAN’S POVThe rain pounded the penthouse windows, a relentless rhythm that matched the thump of my heart as I lay sprawled on Lucian’s bed, my chest heaving, my skin slick with sweat. His scent—whiskey, leather, and something raw—clung to me, he joined me on the bed, a naughty smirk playing on the corners of his mouth, the afterglow of our reunion burning through me. His arm draped over my waist, heavy, grounding, his breath warm against my neck. I’d come back, soaked, and broken, begging for him to take me, and he had—fiercely, unapologetically, even though I didn’t deserve it. He loved me so much despite all my lies and betrayals, despite how I abandoned him and walked away. It wasn’t about the sex to him, it wasn’t about what he could get from me, it was about how much he loved me, about how much he could sacrifice for me.Lucian shifted, his hand sliding off me, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he propped himself on an elbow. “Why’d you come back, Eth

Chapter 74: Ryan’s GambitRYAN’S POVThe dawn light stung my eyes as I crawled from the roadside ditch, my left leg a throbbing wreck, the bone shattered by Lucian’s baton, blood crusting my jeans. My ribs ached with every breath, my face a swollen mess—split lip, black eye, a missing nail leaving my finger raw. The torture room’s cold still clung to me, Lucian’s voice—Stay away from my butterfly—burning in my skull. I spat blood, my hands shaking as I dragged myself to the curb, the Miami asphalt gritty under my palms. A passing trucker stopped, his face paling at my state, but I waved off his questions, growling for a ride to my condo. Pain seared, but rage burned hotter—Ethan, that smug bastard, had cost me everything. Lucian’s fists, his pliers, his shocks—they were for him. I’d make him pay, break him, bury him under the weight of his own secrets.The condo was a haze of sterile white, the shower’s steam choking as I washed off blood and grime, my leg braced with a stolen crutch

Chapter 76: Words Of WisdomMARCO’S POVThe Miami night pressed against the penthouse windows, the city’s neon pulse a faint glow through the glass. I leaned against the kitchen counter, my hands gripping the marble, my jaw tight as Lucian strode in, his boots thudding, a grin splitting his face—a grin I hadn’t seen in years, wide, unguarded, alive. He’d just returned from his getaway with Ethan, alone, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, his eyes bright with a joy that cut me deeper than any blade. Ethan, that slippery FBI bastard, had wormed his way back into Lucian’s heart, and I stood here, invisible, my loyalty, my years at his side, reduced to mere dust. My chest burned, not with love—fuck that—but with a hunger, a gnawing obsession to claim what should’ve been mine: Lucian’s trust, his love, his power, the syndicate’s throne.I forced a smile, my fingers flexing, my voice steady. “You look like you’re in a good mood, boss,” I said, my eyes tracking him as he tossed hi

Chapter 78: His RebornETHAN’S POVThe Miami dawn burned through my apartment’s blinds, the light slicing across my desk, where papers, photos, and encrypted drives lay scattered like a battlefield. My ribs ached from Ryan’s raid a couple of days ago, my lip scabbed over, but the pain fueled me, a fire igniting something new—determination, sharp and unyielding. Sarah’s betrayal, her theft of my finances, her lies about my foster parents, her affairs with Ryan, had broken me, but the realization of the evidence I held had rebuilt me. I wasn’t the weakling they thought I was, at least not anymore. I’d bring him down, expose his corruption, his ties to the Salazar Syndicate, and make him pay for Reynolds’ death, for the death of my colleagues, for every bullet aimed at me. The FBI was rotten—Hayes, Giveon, others—but Ryan was my target, the first domino to fall. I grabbed my coffee, the mug’s heat searing my palm, and got to work.My laptop glowed, Lucian’s files—bank records, wiretappe

Chapter 80: Truth’s CostETHAN’S POVThe Maldives sun spilled across our overwater villa, painting the teak floors gold, the ocean’s gentle lap a soothing hum beneath us. I sprawled on the bed, my body warm from Lucian’s touch, his arm draped over my chest, his breath steady in sleep. Our week here had been paradise—mornings tangled in kisses, afternoons diving into turquoise waves, nights lost in each other, his hands claiming me, my moans echoing, our hunger a fire that burned away Miami’s chaos. Ryan’s arrest, Sarah’s divorce papers, the FBI’s corruption—they’d faded, drowned by Lucian’s love, his promises of forever. I traced Lucian’s jaw, my fingers brushing stubble, my heart swelling, praying he’d never doubt me.My phone buzzed on the nightstand, the FBI’s DC number flashing, a jolt that snapped me upright, my pulse spiking. I grabbed it, my voice low as I answered, “Agent Caldwell speaking.”“Agent Caldwell,” a voice crackled, sharp, urgent. “This is Agent Orion speaking. You’