All Chapters of Switched at the Mafia Auction: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

~ Avelyn ~The room felt too large after he left.Too quiet.The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was waiting.I stood where he had ordered me to stay, fingers trembling slightly as I lifted them to my neck. The skin there was tender from his grip, not exactly bruised, he hadn’t let it go that far but marked in a way I could still feel beneath the surface.My hand drifted lower and before I could stop myself it landed on my stomach.A barely-there touch and a secret I carried alone.I didn’t know which terrified me more. What he would do if he found out… or what he would do if he didn’t.I moved to the window because I couldn’t stand still anymore. The air inside the room felt thick, like it was pressing against my lungs.I expected to see headlights. Armed men. Movement in the courtyard. Something violent to match the storm brewing inside this house.Instead—A single snowflake drifted past the glass.Then another. And another.Within seconds, the sky was shedding white.The first snow o

— Xander —War did not frighten me.It steadied me.Gunfire cracked through the estate like splitting wood. Glass shattered somewhere along the east wing. Men shouted over one another, radios screeching with half-formed updates.Chaos was loud.But inside my head—Silence.I stepped over a body without looking down.“Chiudi l’ingresso ovest,” I said calmly. “Bloccate il cancello secondario. Nessuno entra, nessuno esce.”Close the west entrance. Lock the secondary gate. No one in. No one out.My voice did not rise.It never needed to.Dominic appeared at my side, blood staining the cuff of his sleeve — not his own.“They knew the blind spots,” he said low enough for only me to hear. “Lower perimeter. North fence.”“They didn’t know,” I replied evenly. “They were told.”There was a difference.Information was not guessed.It was given.Another burst of gunfire echoed. A chandelier crashed somewhere in the foyer.Snow drifted through the open doors where one of the panels had been blown

— Xander —By dawn, there were no negotiations left to consider.The snow had not stopped falling through the night. It covered the courtyard, the trees, the burned road where the wreckage still smoldered faintly in the distance. White over ruin. White over blood. White over what remained of restraint.I did not hold council.I did not wait for surveillance confirmations or layered strategies.I gave one order.“Move.”We tracked them beyond the tree line, through the forest paths they thought would conceal their retreat. The snow betrayed them, footprints carved their escape in clear, desperate lines. They had run without formation. Without discipline.Without understanding what they had done.Usually, I commanded from behind the line. I observed and calculated. I allowed my men to execute with precision while I remained untouched by the chaos.Not tonight.Tonight I walked at the front.Dominic noticed immediately. I saw it in the way his gaze followed me, measuring, cautious.“Let

~ Avelyn ~Kyle stared at me for a long moment after I said I had made my decision.The tension in his shoulders slowly eased, as if he understood that force would not win this battle. Not with me. Not like that.He exhaled, long and quiet, then did something that unsettled me more than his anger had.He softened.He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down beside me. Slowly, deliberately. As if approaching something fragile.Me.His fingers reached for my wrist, the very same one he had gripped too tightly minutes ago. This time, his touch was careful. His thumb brushed over the faint redness he had left behind.“I’m sorry,” he murmured.His voice was no longer sharp. It carried something heavier. Regret or the performance of it. After spending such time in Xander’s world my trust in men was as frail as a feather.“I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”He gently massaged the spot, his touch warm and rhythmic, as if trying to erase what had happened between us.“I was a jerk,”

— Xander —The Roman meeting room smelled of polished wood and old power.Neutral ground.A long table divided the space, though neither of us sat. Kyle entered without hesitation.The moment his eyes landed on me, he crossed the distance in three strides and his fist collided with my jaw.The crack echoed.I didn’t stagger but I tasted blood.Dominic moved instantly, but I lifted a hand slightly.Stand down.Kyle’s chest was heaving. His expression was carved from grief and fury so convincing most men in the room shifted uncomfortably.“You let her die,” he said, voice raw.There it was.The performance.I rolled my jaw once, slow, feeling the ache settle in. Then I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with my thumb and examined it casually.“If that makes you feel better,” I replied evenly, “hit me again.”His eyes flashed and he swung again. This time, I caught his wrist mid-air.The room went still.I leaned closer, my grip tightening just enough for bone to protest.“If yo