All Chapters of The Mafia Boss is Hers : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The days that followed were oddly quiet. No dramatic announcements. No grand gestures. No new threats or reminders of ownership. Just… silence. Mia stuck to Titan like glue, his laughter the only balm to the wound inside her. He had unknowingly become her shield, her purpose, her peace. Every morning, he insisted on having breakfast in her room, dragging his toy lion by the tail as he bounced into her arms. And every night, he refused to sleep until she was lying beside him, her arms tucked around his tiny frame. To the maids, it was strange. To the butlers, mildly inconvenient. But to Arrow, it was a miracle. “You realize,” he said one morning as Mia helped Titan lace up his tiny shoes, “that boy used to scream if anyone but Gun tried to pick him up.” Mia looked up, surprised. “Even his nannies?” “Especially his nannies,” Arrow replied. “He didn’t let anyone in. And now look at him glued to your side like he came from you.” Mia smiled faintly. “Maybe he did… in another lif

The room was silent, too silent. Mia sat at the edge of the king-sized bed, unmoving. Her fists were clenched tightly in her lap as if releasing them would let the rage spill over. She’d woken up in a cage made of gold. And gold, she realized, still choked just the same. The door opened without a knock. A girl stepped in, barely older than her. Slender frame, neat black uniform, hair pinned back in a perfect bun. Eyes brown and watchful, like someone used to silence. The girl curtsied quickly. “Good morning, Miss Linth. I’m Ava. I’ve been assigned to serve you.” Mia arched a brow. “Assigned to serve me?” Ava nodded. “Personal maid. I’m here to make your stay... easier.” “Is that what this is?” Mia murmured. “A stay?” Ava’s lips parted, but she didn’t answer. She turned instead to tidy the room, moving like a shadow. Controlled. Careful. Used to fear. Mia watched her. “You scared of him?” Ava froze only for a second barely noticeable. But it was there. “I follow orders,” sh

Mia never thought it would come to this. The hallway was darker than the others she’d explored in the mansion colder, quieter. Her bare feet padded against the marble tiles as two men led her forward, her hands bound behind her with soft leather straps. Not tight enough to bruise, but firm enough to make her feel powerless. They didn’t speak. Just opened the tall iron door. The scent hit her first leather, cedarwood, something colder beneath it, like silence. The room was large. Too large. A single chair sat in the center, velvet black and polished chrome. Behind it, shadows danced across the walls, shadows of things she couldn’t quite make out. Chains. Hooks. Ropes. A cabinet lined with tools that made her stomach turn and pulse race. Gun sat in that chair like a king on a throne, legs crossed, suit crisp, gaze brutal. He didn’t say anything at first. He let her look. Let her feel the room crawl over her skin like ice. Let her guess. Then finally: “You want to be sent away?

The drive back was quiet. Not the peaceful kind. The charged kind thick with unspoken things, with pain stitched beneath skin, with anger and confusion that no seatbelt could hold in place. Mia sat by the window, her bruised body pressed against the cool glass, as if it could somehow soothe the fire under her skin. Her hands trembled slightly, the wine from earlier still bitter in her mouth. Gun didn’t say a word. He didn’t ask if she was okay. Didn’t glance her way. Didn’t acknowledge the fact that her knuckles were white from gripping the seat. Mia didn’t expect him to. But somehow… she still hated him more for it. When they arrived back at the estate, she got out of the car slowly, legs shaking in those unbearable heels. The long slit of her dress fluttered around her thigh as the night wind kissed her aching skin. He didn’t wait for her. He walked ahead, like she was nothing more than a shadow trailing behind him. The guards at the door opened it without a word. Insid

Gun stood at the far end of the East Wing a part of the mansion cloaked in luxury, power, and silence. Unlike the brutal room Mia had once stumbled into, this space was clean, deadly in its elegance. Black marble floors. Velvet shadows. One wide window let in the night, and he stood in front of it like a dark god watching his kingdom.When Mia walked in, her eyes met his not with fear, but that same searing defiance that hadn’t yet been beaten out of her. She wasn’t dressed in lace or silk this time. Just a black slip dress Ava had pressed into her hands with trembling fingers. Her arms bore fading marks from last time, but her chin was lifted like a queen refusing to bow.Gun turned slowly, a half-lit cigarette in one hand, his other in his pocket. “You’re late.”“I didn’t ask to come,” she shot back, crossing her arms.He tilted his head, amused. “Still got fire in you.”“Still trying to extinguish it?”“No,” he said, stepping closer, voice low and calm. “I’m trying to understand w