Semua Bab Owned By The Don : Bab 101 - Bab 110

Two nights before she expected to be allowed an audience with a courier from one of Zane’s shipping partners, Zane changed the rules. He grew more intimate. He asked her for pieces of herself; he wanted her to describe Jaxon’s eyes when he thought no one watched. He wanted to know her favorite dresses. He wanted to hear the way she laughed about the Don’s temper. He wanted to catalog her as if she were a product that could be displayed in a cabinet and admired.Raven gave him small things. She told him about the sound of Jaxon smoking in the penthouse long after the city fell asleep. She described a ridiculous story of a man who once tried to teach Jaxon how to dance and failed spectacularly, a story that bent the iron façade into something human enough that Zane would covet it. He ate those crumbs and, in return, he offered up his confessions. He even bragged about an account in Marseille that moved funds under his mother’s code. It was arrogance built on a mother’s wealth.“You don’

The morning fog clung to the docks like a shroud. Jaxon’s boots hit the wet concrete with precision, echoing in the hollow industrial skeleton around him. Six men flanked him, Viktor, Dante, Luca, and three handpicked lieutenants he trusted with his life. Every step, every breath, was measured; every heartbeat thudded in tandem with the fear he refused to show.Unit 14 loomed ahead, its rusted metal doors groaning against the wind. A layer of grime and decay masked its past, but Jaxon didn’t need vision to sense life inside. He had Raven’s message, encoded and clear. She was waiting, and he was going to find her, no matter the cost.“Positions,” Jaxon barked, signaling the men with the slight flick of a hand.Two crouched against the walls, rifles raised. Dante scaled a rusted ladder to the roof, binoculars already trained. Viktor tapped the comms, eyes scanning. Luca checked his pistol, then nodded toward Jaxon. “Ready when you are.”Jaxon exhaled slowly, feeling the ache in his ribs

The night after Jaxon reclaimed her should have brought peace, but sleep turned into a battlefield. Raven jerked awake with a muffled cry, the sheets twisted tight around her body like chains. Sweat slicked her skin. Her throat was raw as if she’d been screaming.The room was dark except for the low amber glow from the corner lamp. Jaxon was beside her instantly, as always, his hand on her waist, steady, unyielding.“Raven.” His voice was low, sharp with command but threaded with concern. “Look at me.”Her eyes snapped open, and for a moment, the shadows on the ceiling warped into bars, into the cage Zane had kept her in. She gasped, dragging herself upright, but Jaxon caught her wrists before she could thrash free.“It’s not him,” Jaxon said, his forehead pressing to hers. His tone didn’t rise, instead he anchored her with the sheer force of presence. “You’re not there. You’re with me.”Her body trembled, betrayal in every muscle. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to stay in the

The night at the docks reeked of oil, salt, and rot. Cranes loomed like skeletons against the skyline, their rusted arms creaking in the wind. Containers stacked in uneven rows created shadows deep enough to swallow men whole. It was the kind of place Jaxon knew too well, perfect for a setup, perfect for blood,and he’d walked his men straight into it.The ambush hit faster that anticipated. One second they were moving in formation, boots crunching gravel, guns raised, the air tight with expectation. The next, explosions ripped from two stacked containers, fire blinding and deafening as bullets rained from the shadows above.“Down!” Jaxon roared, dragging Marco behind a crate as shrapnel tore the air. Sparks lit up the dark, fire painting everything in shades of hell. His men scattered, returning fire, but the positioning was wrong, they were boxed in, a perfect kill zone.“Boss!” Marco gasped, clutching his shoulder, blood spreading fast through his shirt. The man was barely twenty-fi

The morning after Raven surrendered her old life, the penthouse carried a strange calm. The city outside roared with its usual chaos, but inside, the air was thick with intimacy and consequence. Raven sat curled on the edge of the bed, bare legs tucked beneath her, a cup of coffee cooling in her hands.Jaxon was already dressed, dark slacks and a black shirt rolled at the sleeves, his holster strapped with habitual precision. He moved with the quiet efficiency of a man preparing for war.Her eyes tracked him. “You’re leaving again.” It wasn’t an accusation, more like an ache that settled in her chest.He buckled the last strap and met her gaze. “Zane won’t wait for me to lick wounds. He struck Inferno, he struck the docks, and he’ll keep striking until I bury him.”Raven tightened her grip on the cup. “And where does that leave us?”“Here.” He crossed to her, crouching so they were eye to eye. His fingers brushed over her cheek, lingering at the corner of her jaw. “Your resolve last n