All Chapters of The Mafia Boss's Obsession : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

LUNA's POVIt was Tuesday afternoon, and I was already fighting Bratva thugs at a gas station. Typical.“You touched the wrong car, asshole!” one of them barked, grabbing my boyfriend by the collar.“Back off,” I snapped, stepping between them, rage blooming hot in my chest. “It was a scratch, not a hit. And you don’t lay a hand on him.”He didn’t listen. His fist drew back, but he never got the chance to throw it.My heel slammed into his knee. He dropped with a grunt.The second guy reached for his waistband. I went for his throat.It wasn’t graceful. Wasn’t trained. But I’d spent my whole life learning how to survive men like them.Hurting Bratva men in broad daylight wasn’t just reckless, it was suicidal. But I couldn’t stop myself. Not when they laid a hand on Yuri. By the time they hit the pavement, bruised and stunned, a sleek black SUV rolled up across the street. I didn’t notice it at first, not until I felt a stare that froze my blood.A man leaned against the hood. Shadowe

Luna's POV We walked the long corridor together in silence, Gabriela’s arm brushing mine with every step. She paused halfway, turning to me, and I saw it.Not just fear.Terror.Not of Misha.But of what would happen if she said no.My father had made a deal with the devil, and if it breaks, we lose everything. Protection. Supply lines. Power. We’d be a target. Her voice was barely a whisper. “People die when the wrong families go cold.”I’d heard it before. Words thrown like threats at cartel meetings, whispered by guards, etched into our upbringing like gospel. But hearing her say it?It felt real.Too real.“Then I’ll find another way,” I said firmly. “I’ll talk to Misha Petrov myself.”She let out a soft, bitter laugh. “He doesn’t strike me as the negotiating type.”She kept walking. I followed, the silence stretching taut between us.She wasn’t wrong.My stomach was tight. Dread curled low in my gut like a warning siren I couldn’t shut off.The dining room door was slightly aj

Luna's POVThe engine of the car hummed low as we pulled out of the club parking lot. The night outside blurred past the windows, but I only saw Yuri, his grip on the wheel too tight, his jaw locked like he was clenching something he wasn’t ready to say.“That Bratva guy almost hit me? You didn’t even flinch.”Yuri lit a cigarette, eyes fixed on the road. “He wasn’t going to touch you.”“He almost did.”“And Misha handled it.”Something twisted hard in my chest, sharp and bitter.“Handled it? He yanked that guy off me—and then made it very clear I was his problem to handle.”“That’s what men like him do, Luna.”“And what exactly does that make you?”He looked at me then. Briefly. Annoyed.“I’m not Bratva.”“But you’re not clean either, are you?”Silence.I leaned back, heart thudding.“What the hell do you want me to say?” he snapped. “That I was scared? That I didn’t want to cause a scene? You were the one swinging fists a few days ago. Maybe I thought you had it under control.”“Or

Luna's POV I found him at the bar, swirling a drink in his hand like he hadn’t just sold off my future.“You agreed to marry me off to Yuri?” I said.He didn’t even flinch.“It’s done,” he said coolly.“You hate him.”“I hate weakness more.” He tossed the drink back and set the glass down hard enough that it cracked. “His father controls the eastern ports now,” Papa said, voice flat. “Access we need. Influence we can’t buy.”“So you traded your daughter for shipping lanes,” I said bitterly“You’re his girlfriend,” he said, like that was supposed to make this okay. “You’re acting like this wasn’t what you wanted.”“You’ve hated us being together for months.” “Because I thought he was soft. But he proved me wrong.He’s made a move. A real one.”“You didn’t even ask me,” I hissed. “You just decided.”He sipped his drink again. “You’re luckier than your sister.”I clenched my fists at my sides. “At least you’re not being sent to a stranger halfway across the world,” he said. “Be grate

LUNA's POVI drifted in and out of consciousness.The world was a blur of cold marble floors, the soft creak of doors swinging open, the low murmur of voices I couldn’t understand.But one sound stayed constant.Footsteps. Measured and heavy. The kind a predator makes when it already knows you can’t run.I opened my eyes once. Caught a glimpse of a long hallway I didn’t recognize.Walls lined with somber oil paintings. Gold sconces throwing dim light onto dark wood.Not the east wing. Not the family quarters.Where was I?Misha’s scent clung to me, gunmetal, smoke, and cold earth.It was threaded into my skin now. Into my breathing.When the darkness tugged again, I didn’t fight it.***I woke slowly.My body felt heavy, but my mind was clearer now.Something flashed in my mind—Yuri’s hand tightening around my wrist, the sharp sting of a needle, his breath hot near my ear. I flinched, swallowing bile.The fog of whatever Yuri slipped me was thinning, leaving behind a pounding headache