All Chapters of I AM YOURS TO PLAY: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter 82: Shadows Of LoyaltyMARCO’S POVThe Miami night pulsed with a restless energy, the strip club’s neon sign flickering below my safe house loft, its base thumping through the floorboards like a heartbeat. It’s been six hours since Lucian got arrested and there was no sign of him coming back today. The arrest played on a loop in my head—Ethan, that snake, that lying bastard, striding into the penthouse, his badge gleaming, his voice cold as he slapped cuffs on Lucian’s wrist. But why? I thought they were in a relationship, I thought Lucian said he wouldn’t betray him again. Why did he betray him then? The questions gnawed at my mind, I didn’t have any answers to these questions but I knew of one way to figure out the answers to these questions—Viktor. I paced the creaky floor, my boots scuffing, my hands slick with sweat as I gripped my phone, the screen glowing with Viktor’s number. This was crazy. I know I was angry, angry at myself for not handling Lucian’s rejection well,

Chapter 84: Midnight EscapeETHAN’S POVThe Miami night hung heavy, the air thick with humidity, the city’s neon pulse fading as I parked my unmarked sedan a block from the FBI field office. My heart pounded, a steady drum against my ribs, my hands gripping the steering wheel, the leather creaking under my fingers. Lucian’s arrest—my arrest, my cuffs on his wrists, his eyes burning with betrayal—replayed in my mind, a wound I couldn’t shake. I stepped out, my boots crunching gravel, my black hoodie blending with the shadows, my badge tucked in my pocket, a decoy file under my arm. The field office loomed, its glass facade glinting under streetlights, a fortress of lies. I’d planned every move, mapped every camera, every guard’s shift, every blind spot. My burner phone buzzed in my pocket, a reminder of the task ahead of me tonight, a task that I cannot tank.Yesterday I’d stolen the cell key during the entire arrest and lock-up, a sleight-of-hand during the routine evidence drop, my

Chapter 86: Vanished KingpinETHAN’S POVThe sun blazed through the field office windows, its heat a faint pulse against the glass as I leaned back in my chair, my boots propped on my desk, my coffee mug steaming. The bullpen buzzed with smug chatter, agents grinning, their voices loud with victory. “Moretti’s done, finally,” Ruiz said, his fist bumping Simmons’. “The court’s sitting is today, I can’t believe that the most dangerous kingpin’s going down.” I sipped my coffee, my lips twitching, a smirk hidden behind the rim. They thought they’d won, they thought my man, Lucian Moretti, the syndicate’s shadow, was caged and ready for arraignment at noon. Their joy was a riot—Hayes clapping backs, Jenkins joking about Lucian’s mugshot—but I knew the truth.Lucian was gone, slipped out last night, my hands on the keys, my loop on the cameras, my plan a perfect middle finger to their triumph. My heart raced, the thrill of it sharp, my face a mask of calm as I watched their celebration, kn

Chapter 88: Ghosts Of The NightETHAN’S POVThe morning light filtered through the blinds of Lucian’s secret condo, its soft glow warning the sheets where I lay, my body heavy with sleep, my chest bare, the air cool against my skin. Lucian’s scent—cigar smoke and cedar—lingered, his side of the bed empty, the sheets crumpled. My phone buzzed on the nightstand, its screen flashing, the vibration jarring my haze. Before I could stir, Lucian’s lips brushed my forehead, his kiss soft, his breath warm, his voice a low rumble. “Rise and shine, butterfly,” he said, his fingers grazing my cheek, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Your phone’s been screaming for ten minutes.”I groaned, my eyes fluttering open, his face close, his robe open, his chest bare, a Cuban cigar smoldering between his fingers. I grabbed the phone, my thumb swiping, Giveon’s name glaring on the screen. I hit the speaker, my heart racing, my smirk hidden as I sat up, the sheets pooling at my waist. “Caldwell,” Giveon’s

Chapter 90: Tangled LiesSARAH’S POVThe fluorescent light in my apartment flickered, casting shadows across the peeling wallpaper, the air thick with the stale scent of coffee and despair. I paced the hardwood, my bare feet slapping, my pregnant belly straining against my tank top, my heart pounding with frustration. A week had passed since I’d spun my lies to the Caldwell’s, painting their foster son as the villain abandoning me and my baby, their eyes wide, their promises to rein him in ringing in my ears. But nothing—no call, no Ethan, no groveling. I grabbed my phone, its screen cracked my fingers swiping to Ethan’s number—still blocked, the bastard still had me on his block list. This isn’t happening to me. What would become of me then? What would people say about me? Oh my fucking heavens, I will be a wretched single mother to a child I might even hate when its born.I hurled the phone onto the couch, its thud muffled, my scream tearing through the silence, my hands clutching