Lahat ng Kabanata ng Owned By The Don : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

The night Club Eden swallowed Raven Knight whole, she wasn’t wearing red, but she should have been. She stepped through the velvet-draped entrance in fitted black slacks, a satin top that caught the light like oil, and a pair of heels she borrowed from her best friend Talia. Her press badge was tucked into the lining of her purse, a necessary betrayal. No one got inside Eden without a story, and hers was as carefully crafted as the lies written on her face.She wasn’t here as Raven Knight, investigative journalist for The Mirror. Tonight, she was Raye Kincaid, aspiring dancer, newcomer to the city, and too naïve to understand that the club she walked into wasn’t just elite, it was owned by the devil himself.Her heels clicked across the marble floor like a metronome for the music pulsing overhead. The air was thick with perfume, sweat, and something darker, something feral. Women glided past her in lingerie and glitter, men lounged with lowball glasses in hands, and every wall was bat

Raven stood outside Jaxon Morreau’s private office with her pulse fluttering like a trapped bird.Victor had led her here without explanation. No smirk. No warning. Just his usual silence and a nod before shutting the door behind her.The air inside was heavy. Dark wood paneling. Black leather furniture. Shelves lined with books in foreign languages and gold-embossed spines. It wasn’t the office of a club owner, it was a predator’s den.Jaxon sat behind a desk, crisp in a charcoal vest, sleeves rolled to the elbow. One leg casually crossed over the other. He didn’t look up right away. Just swirled the amber liquid in a crystal tumbler and let her simmer in the silence.Finally, he spoke.“You’re late.”“I wasn’t told I had an appointment.”“You don’t. This isn’t a meeting, Raven. It’s an audit.”Her brow lifted. “Of what?”“You.”He leaned forward, placing the glass aside.“Tell me about your father.”The question hit like a slap. “What?”“You heard me.”“I don’t talk about him.”“You

The first time Raven saw Jaxon Morreau break a man, he didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t throw punches or pull a gun or even move quickly. There was no flash of violence, no theatrical rage. Just stillness. Precision. Ice in the shape of a man. And it chilled her more than any screaming brute ever could.It began with a phone call.She was in his office, seated on the leather chaise with her notebook in hand, pretending to take inventory of club shipments, an excuse Jaxon had given her to justify her presence, but the real reason was simpler. He wanted her close.The moment the call came in, something changed in him. His posture, his breath, the way he folded his fingers together like he was preparing for surgery.“She took the money?” he asked, voice quiet.There was a pause as whoever was on the other end of the line stammered through their explanation.Jaxon’s eyes went flat. “Where is he now?”Another pause. “Bring him to the lounge. Ten minutes.”He hung up.“Problem?” Raven aske

It started with a name. Raven didn’t mean to find it. She was just filing. Organizing the chaos Jaxon called his empire, ledgers, rosters, invoices from shell companies that all looped back into Club Eden’s bloodstream. She was supposed to be focusing on the liquor shipments, but her fingers slipped, and a folder tumbled to the floor, spilling across the polished concrete.She knelt, cursing under her breath, gathering sheets into a pile, until one name stopped her cold. Isabelle Voss.She knew it. Knew the name like a knife she’d once kept hidden in her coat pocket. Isabelle had been a dancer at another upscale club on the east side. She disappeared three months ago. No note. No family contact. The only thread Raven had ever found was a whisper from another girl who claimed Isabelle was “recruited” for something “better.” Her body was never found.Raven’s heart pounded as she scanned the document. Club Eden employee roster. Isabelle’s name was there. Dated two weeks before her disapp

Raven felt it the moment she stepped into Eden that night. The air was off. It wasn’t the music, still pulsing, dark and magnetic. It wasn’t the crowd, still rich, drunk, and unaware they were standing on top of a wolf’s den.It was something else. A disturbance in the current. Like someone had shifted the power in the room. Someone new.“Brace yourself,” Talia muttered as she walked past Raven backstage, eyes flicking toward the bar. “The baby devil’s in town.”Raven frowned. “Who?”Talia didn’t answer, just pointe.And then she saw him. He was leaning against the bar, drink in hand, smile lazy and dangerous. Blonde hair curled slightly at his collar, jaw sharp enough to wound, suit fitted like a second skin. Where Jaxon radiated ice and command, this man was all fire and charm.Zane Morreau. The younger brother. The one who disappeared into luxury yachts and scandal, who resurfaced when it suited him, and never without consequences.He looked like trouble dressed in silk and he was