Lahat ng Kabanata ng Owned By The Don : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

The morning sun had barely begun its slow crawl over the city skyline when Victor’s knock came, a sharp, urgent sound slicing through the fragile calm of the penthouse. Raven, still draped across Jaxon’s broad chest, stirred beneath the weight of an unquiet sleep. The room felt too still, too fragile.Jaxon’s hand tightened around her, eyes flickering open, alert in an instant. The darkness in his gaze deepened, shadows gathering like storm clouds.Victor’s face was grim when he stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. His usual stoic mask cracked by the tight line of his jaw, the set of his shoulders.“She’s gone,” Victor said simply, voice low but heavy. “Talia’s disappeared again.”Raven’s breath hitched. Her body tensed against Jaxon’s like a live wire.Jaxon’s eyes sharpened, every muscle coiling beneath the surface. “Again?” His voice was a hard edge cutting through the room. “How?”Victor paced a slow circle, fingers tapping the envelope in his pocket. “Security came

Jaxon stood on the terrace of his penthouse, the city lights stretching endlessly beneath him like a glittering, indifferent sea. The cool night air bit at his skin, but the chill in his bones had nothing to do with the weather. It was the weight of what Victor had told him that pressed against his chest, the unbearable truth that shattered everything he had believed about his family.His mother was alive.More than that, she had been the shadow behind the trafficking ring, the architect of the poison spreading through their empire. The woman he had mourned, the woman he had blamed for leaving him alone in the cold world, was still here, pulling strings from the darkness.Victor’s voice echoed behind him, steady and grim. “She’s the one running it all. The trafficking, the arms deals, the corruption in the city, it all leads back to her. Your mother.”Jaxon’s jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. “Why the hell would she hide? Why let me believe she was dead?”Victor shook his head

Jaxon stood at the glass wall of his penthouse, staring at the sprawl of the city below as if he could burn through concrete and steel with sheer will. The lights glittered like broken glass, sharp and cold. He’d been waiting three hours. Three hours since the call.Zane’s voice still hung in his skull like smoke."Bring her to me, brother. Or the child dies."The words weren’t shouted; they were delivered in Zane’s usual, taunting drawl, casual as a knife slipped between ribs. The kind of calm only a man with no brakes could manage.Behind him, Raven paced, her boots clicking a rhythm of fear against polished marble. She’d gone pale as the moonlight spilling through the glass. Her eyes, the ones that usually cut straight through his armor, looked hollow.“He has Talia’s son,” she said, for what must have been the fourth time. Her voice was ragged now. “Jax, we can’t wait for him to call again."“We don’t move blind,” Jaxon cut in, low and cold. “That’s how he wants it. Zane wants pan

The penthouse was quiet in the way that made every creak of the floorboards sound like a scream. Raven perched at the edge of the leather sofa, laptop open but forgotten, fingers resting on the keyboard like she might strike at any moment. She had spent hours combing through Evelyn’s financials, the coded payment ledgers, shipping manifests, and old intelligence reports that left no doubt. Her pulse thrummed not from fear alone, but from the sheer immensity of what she had uncovered.She had wanted to protect Jaxon. She had wanted him to stay just the way he was, cold, commanding, untouchable and untouched by the reality of his mother’s full reach, but secrets didn’t wait for consent. Secrets had a way of clawing through the skin until they surfaced, and now the truth sprawled across the penthouse like a shadow she couldn’t escape.Jaxon appeared in the doorway, bare-chested, a sharp line to his jaw, eyes that had always been dark but now carried something heavier. The faint scent of

The storm had passed, but the air inside Jaxon’s penthouse still felt charged, brittle as glass. Rain streaked down the windows in thin, trembling rivulets, muting the city lights. Raven sat curled in the leather chair, knees tucked to her chest, hands clasped as though to hold herself together. Jaxon hadn’t moved in ten minutes, just stood near the fireplace, broad shoulders casting a shadow over the room. He looked carved from silence itself.She was the one who finally broke. “You deserve the truth,” Raven whispered.His eyes, those black, unflinching eyes, snapped to hers. “Then give it to me, little vixen. All of it. No more pieces. No more half-measures.” His voice wasn’t harsh. It was steady, almost frightening in its calm.She drew in a shuddering breath and told him everything. Not in tidy order. Not the way a journalist would present it, fact by fact, source by source. No, this was raw, chaotic. The words tumbled out like blood from a fresh wound: Zane’s threats, the evidenc