All Chapters of Owned By My Mafia Brother-in-law : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Chapter 91|| VINCENZO's POV ||The meeting room smelled of cigar smoke and expensive whiskey, the air thick with negotiations and numbers. I sat at the head of the table, listening to the ship provider drone on about delays, fuel costs, and security risks. Normally, I’d be fully engaged, analyzing every detail, ensuring nothing slipped past me. But today, my mind was elsewhere.On her.Sancia.She was still in the hospital, recovering. She should’ve been dead by now, but she wasn’t. She survived—like she always did. And I had to believe she’d make it through this, too.I glanced at my watch, resisting the urge to check my phone. Just a little longer, then I’ll go see her.Then my assistant, Luca, burst into the room. His face was pale, his usually sharp demeanor shaken. Something was wrong.“Boss.” His voice was tight, urgent.I sat up straighter. “What is it?”He hesitated for half a second, then exhaled. “It’s your mother.”Something in my chest twisted. “What about her?”“She… she

Chapter 93|| VINCENZO's POV ||The drive to my grandfather’s estate felt like a slow descent into hell.I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. The fury boiling in my chest was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It wasn’t just anger. It was betrayal.Betrayal from the one man I had once believed was untouchable.My mother was dead. Poisoned in a hospital bed, helpless and unarmed. And the man responsible for it—the man who ordered it—was the same man who had raised me.My grandfather.I parked outside the grand estate, barely registering the guards stationed at the entrance. They recognized me instantly but hesitated before opening the iron gates. They knew. They knew what I came for.I didn’t wait for an escort. I shoved the doors open, my boots echoing against the marble floors. The scent of cigars and aged whiskey filled the air, a scent that had once been familiar—now it made my stomach turn.He was waiting for

Chapter 95|| VINCENZO's POV ||The docks smelled of salt and oil, the air thick with tension.The two groups stood facing each other, a thin thread of control barely holding everything together. My men, standing firm beside me, their hands resting on their weapons. My grandfather’s men, tense but trying to talk their way out of this.A war was brewing.And I was ready to start it.One of my grandfather’s men, an older man named Raffaele, took a cautious step forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Vincenzo, think about what you’re doing,” he said carefully. “You know what this will mean. The business, the empire—”I pulled out my gun and cocked it in one smooth motion, aiming it directly at his head.He froze. Everyone did.“You think I give a damn about the empire?” My voice was ice. “My mother is dead because of him.” I jerked my chin toward the invisible weight of my grandfather’s name. “And now he thinks he can send you here to talk me down?”Raffaele exhaled slowly, b

Chapter 97|| THIRD PERSON's POV ||The air inside the grand hall was heavy with the scent of cigars and aged whiskey. At the head of the long mahogany table sat Alessandro Russo , the once-untouchable patriarch of one of the oldest crime dynasties in Europe. Time had weathered his face, but not his pride. His sharp eyes scanned the faces across from him, cold and unflinching.Opposite him, lounging with the confidence of a man who had nothing to lose, was Enzo D’Alba, leader of the Calabrian syndicate—a gang notorious for switching allegiances with the wind. He toyed with his silver ring, eyes lazily meeting Alessandro’s.“You called this meeting,” Enzo said, voice smooth but laced with disdain. “So, tell me, Don Alessandro. Why should we align with a dying empire?”Alessandro didn’t flinch. “Because the Russo name still opens doors you couldn't unlock in three lifetimes.”Enzo chuckled, shaking his head. “The Russo name used to mean something, yes. When Viktor was alive. When Vince

Chapter 99|| SANCIA's POV ||Darkness. Heavy, suffocating darkness.That’s all I felt at first. My head pounded like war drums, each throb of pain louder than the last. My mouth was dry, lips cracked, and my limbs—God, my limbs—ached with the pressure of something tight and painful. Panic set in before my eyes even opened.When I finally blinked into the dim light, I realized I was tied to a chair. Thick ropes bound my wrists and ankles, biting into my skin, the wooden arms of the chair cold and unforgiving against my back.I sucked in a sharp breath. The air was stale, laced with dust and faint traces of oil. A basement. It had to be.My voice came out cracked, hoarse. “Hello? Is anyone here?”Silence answered me.“Let me go!” I screamed, pulling against the ropes. “Cowards! Show your face!”The echo of my voice faded into the walls, and I sat there, heart racing, blood boiling, fear clawing up my throat like bile. My stomach twisted—not just from fear, but from something deeper. I