Lahat ng Kabanata ng Owned By The Mafia King : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 28

Andrew’s POV:The rain hadn’t let up, drumming against the van’s roof as we sped through the city’s dark streets, heading for the hospital the doctor had promised was safe. Victor lay in the back, strapped to a stretcher, his breathing was weak, his face was pale under the bruises. Emilie sat beside him, her hand clutching his, her eyes red from crying. I was next to her, my bandaged arm throbbing where the bullet had grazed me at the factory, but the real pain was in my chest, watching her, knowing what I’d seen in the safehouse, Milo kissing her, her leaning into him like she wanted it. It cut deeper than any bullet could.Boris drove, his eyes on the road, while one of Milo’s guys sat up front, gun ready. Milo had stayed behind to deal with Viktorov’s latest attack, his words to me still burning: “You screw this up, Andrew, and you’re done.” He didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d met Irina, fallen for her lies, and now Emilie was caught in the middle of this war, her

Milo’s POV:The hospital’s halls were too quiet, the kind of quiet that hides danger. My gun was steady in my hand, my heart still racing from Emilie’s kiss in the waiting room, her lips hot, her body pressed against mine, her moan echoing in my head. But Andrew’s hurt eyes and Boris’s warning about Viktorov’s men snapped me back. They were here, somewhere in this maze of white walls, hunting us while Victor fought for his life in surgery. Emilie was behind me, her breath shaky, her hand brushing mine as we moved toward the surgical wing. Andrew trailed us, his gun ready, his silence louder than any argument.“Boris, report,” I whispered into my earpiece, my voice low. He was at the main entrance with my guard, watching for Viktorov’s men.“Two guys spotted in the east stairwell,” Boris said, his voice tense. “They’re armed, Milo. Moving your way.”I cursed under my breath, glancing at Emilie. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear for her dad, but there was strength there, to

Milo’s POVThe rain had finally stopped sometime during the night. By late afternoon the sky was clear, pale blue with thin clouds drifting like smoke. A cool breeze moved through the open windows of the training room, carrying the scent of wet pine and distant smoke. I stood in the center of the mat, my sleeves rolled to the elbows, watching Emilie circle me with the caution of someone who’d been burned too many times.She wore loose black pants and a fitted tank top Rico had found in the storage closet. Her hair was tied back, a few dark strands already sticking to her neck from the effort. She looked different today, not just tired or scared, but focused and hungry. The girl who once offered herself to settle a debt was learning how to take something back.“Again,” I said.She lunged low, trying to sweep my legs the way Rico had shown her yesterday. I stepped aside, caught her wrist, and twisted her arm gently behind her back — not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her of contr

Milo’s POVThe estate was lit like a fortress, with floodlights on every corner, motion sensors blinking, Rico’s sniper scope catching moonlight from the roof. I stood at the front gate with Emilie on my left, Andrew on my right. Both armed now. Both silent. The tension between them was thick enough to choke on, but neither of them let it show.Isabella’s SUV rolled up exactly at midnight. Black, tinted, no plates. The driver killed the engine and stayed inside. Only one door opened.She stepped out alone.Black leather coat to the knee, red heels clicking on gravel, hair loose and dark. She looked exactly like she had five years ago — dangerous, expensive, and completely unafraid.She stopped ten meters from the gate, her hands visible, her red lips curved in that familiar half-smile.“Milo Petrov,” she said, voice carrying over the night air. “Still handsome. Still stubborn.”I didn’t smile. “You’re late.”“I’m fashionable,” she corrected. Her eyes slid to Emilie. “And you brought t