Semua Bab Only in Vegas: Claimed by the Devils Son: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Mia waited in the shadows by the doorway until she heard Axel’s footsteps fade down the hall. The weight of the last few weeks—a suffocating mix of betrayal, fear, and heartbreak—sat heavy in her chest, but under it all bubbled something new: defiance. Freedom. She exhaled and pressed her thumb flat against the scanner. It clicked green. Something about that felt like a quiet victory. He had changed it—updated it after everything—to let her into the apartment. She scoffed at his high hopes for her to come back. She was finally done with chasing a shadow. She slipped inside, the door closing with a soft hiss behind her. The apartment felt hollow without him, too still for the storm she carried inside. Mia moved quickly now, opening drawers with a quiet kind of desperation. She pulled a few changes of clothes into a carry-on, including the black dress she hadn’t worn since the night she first met Axel, then paused at the safe under the dresser. Her hands didn’t shake as she punche

Mia slipped into The Lone Wolf with the kind of cautious grace she’d forgotten she possessed. The bar had a quiet hum to it—low orange lighting, clinking glasses, and leather booths dimly lit by flickering sconces. It felt warm, anonymous, far away from penthouses and polished marble and the smell of cigar smoke she associated with Axel and Slade. She found a booth tucked into the corner. Dark. Private. Safe. Her hands were still trembling. Not from fear—well, not entirely. It was the adrenaline. The giddy, anxious buzz of being outside again. Alone. Free. Every step outside that casino felt like reclaiming a piece of herself. Then she saw him—Daniel. He hadn’t changed much. Still that same crooked smile. Sandy hair tousled like he’d just run his hands through it after a long day. The way he walked—lazy, confident, familiar—made her throat tighten. “Mia?” he grinned, sliding into the booth. “Shit, you always look so beautiful, it’s leaves me stunned.” Her lips curved int

Axel held a glass of whiskey he hadn’t even touched. The smell made him sick. A reminder of how he used to treat Mia. The Lone Wolf pulsed with quiet, lowlight decadence. Leather booths. Smooth jazz. The kind of place you brought someone to make a deal or a mistake. Slade had chosen it for its discretion. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Family head meetings were to be held in secret, away from prying eyes. Amber sat across from him, legs crossed too neatly, her eyes glinting with playfulness. Her dress was too red. Her perfume too heavy. And every time she looked at him like that—with that forced softness in her gaze—Axel felt the sick rise up again. She was trying too hard. To replace Mia. To become something she never was. Because she knew she couldn’t compare to her. “You’re really not going to say anything?” Amber finally asked, her voice a little too sharp to be casual. Axel’s jaw flexed. “Your father’s late.” “So?” “So I came for business. Not a dinner date.”

He hadn’t slept. He couldn’t. Not when she was out there. Not when his gut kept twisting with dread and guilt and that hollow ache that told him he’d finally gone too far. That this was his last chance at redemption. Mia was gone. And this time… he wasn’t sure she’d come back. He had finally given in, he was ready to crumble the mafia empire to give Mia a normal life, to show her how much she means to her. He would do anything she asked of him. The city was quiet in the hours before dawn, the neon lights dimmed but never fully dark, shadows creeping down every alleyway like ghosts that refused to rest. Axel’s car smelled like sweat and regret, the scent of Amber’s perfume still faint on his shirt despite how many times he’d scrubbed it with bottled water in a gas station sink. Hoping to hide the scent of her. His collar was damp. His fists ached from gripping the wheel too tightly. And he was beginning to loose his mind. He’d searched all night. Bar after bar. Corner store aft

Mia was smiling. With him. Axel sat motionless across the street, one hand still on the car door handle as his eyes locked on her through the early morning haze. She stepped out of the building in a soft grey dress, laughing at something that sandy-haired bastard said. He leaned close—too close—and she didn’t pull away. Axel didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. He just burned inside. His Mia. No—not his anymore. She was done with him. He’d broken her and Slade had finished her. Now she was running into another man’s arms, and Axel could do nothing but watch. The guilt twisted like a dagger in his ribs. But deeper than guilt was rage. Cold. Unforgiving. Familiar. Something he could work with. He didn’t remember getting back into the car. Didn’t remember the red lights, the turns, or the way his knuckles bled after the first punch landed against the face of a man who owed the Morino family money. The guy’s screams echoed against alley walls, blood painting Axel’s fists. He