Semua Bab MINE TO CLAIM : Bab 1 - Bab 10

“Breathe, sweetheart. This is your day.” Mrs. Moreles smoothed Ava’s veil with trembling fingers, her forced smile not quite reaching her eyes. Ava’s reflection stared back from the mirror—pale, hollow-eyed despite the carefully applied makeup. Her mother’s words felt like shards of glass. “Your day”. If only she knew. “If I can’t have you, no one else will. And if you go against me to marry Leandro, I will drag you across his corpse and fuck you there, his blood staining that precious white dress.” Dario’s voice echoed in her mind, as cold and final as a death sentence. Her hands shook as she gripped the bouquet.“Mum, I—”“It’s time, Ava.” Mr. Moreles appeared in the doorway, his face lighting up at the sight of her. “You’re radiant. Leandro won’t know what hit him.”“Neither will you, Papa.” The thought twisted her stomach into knots. She wanted to scream, to confess everything, but the words died in her throat. What could she say? That a monster owned her? That this beauti

Leandro’s apartment had become a war room. Maps of the city covered every surface, marked with red pins showing Dario Santos’ known properties. His laptop screen glowed with surveillance footage, financial records, anything that might give him an edge against a man who owned half the city’s underground. A Notorious mafia don, in all of North-shore city whose name commanded respect and inspired fear at the mere mention of his name. His ruthless reputation preceded him, striking dread into the hearts of those who cross him . “This is insane.” Detective Riley Martinez stood in the doorway, and shook her head, taking in the chaos. She watched him fixing and scattering papers all over. They had been partners on the force before Leandro left to start his security firm, and she was one of the few people who had take his call after what happened at the cathedral. “You are talking about going up against the Santos organization. Alone.”“Not alone.” Leandro didn’t look up from the photos s

For three days, Ava waged war. She refused to eat the meals brought to her room. She threw herself against the locked door until her shoulders ached. She searched every inch of her prison for something, anything, that could be used as a weapon or a way out.She found nothing.The windows were bulletproof and didn’t open. The bathroom had no mirrors that could be broken, no razors that could be stolen. Even the furniture was bolted down, as if Dario had anticipated exactly this kind of resistance.Of course he had. He had planned everything else.On the fourth morning, she woke to find him sitting in the chair by her window, watching her sleep. The sight should have terrified her, but by now she was beyond fear. She had moved into something colder, harder.Pure, distilled rage.“Get out.” Her voice was hoarse from days of screaming at locked doors and unresponsive guards.“Good morning to you too.” He was impeccably dressed as always, his dark suit pristine, his pale blue eyes as ste

The hunger finally won.Ava had held out for five days, her body consuming itself one cell at a time, but the trembling in her hands and the way her vision blurred at the edges told her she was reaching her limit. She couldn’t save anyone if she was dead, and dying wouldn’t free her family from Dario’s shadow.The penthouse was eerily quiet as she crept through the marble hallways, bare feet silent on the cold floor. It was early—too early for Dario to be awake, too early for his army of security to expect movement from the defiant prisoner in the guest room.She found the kitchen tucked away behind the main living area, all gleaming steel and granite surfaces that probably cost more than most people’s cars. The space was warm despite its industrial feel, filled with the kind of morning light that might have been peaceful under different circumstances.“Oh, sweetheart!”Ava spun around, heart hammering, to find a woman in her sixties standing by the massive stove. Gray hair pulled bac

Dario sat in his home office, surrounded by darkness save for the pale glow of his computer screens. Ava’s phone lay on the desk between his hands like evidence in a murder trial—which, he was beginning to realize, it might very well be.The text from C. Santos still burned in his mind: “We have her location. Move in tomorrow at dawn. Come alone.”His sister’s words from earlier that day echoed in his head, each syllable as sharp as broken glass…Carissa Santos looked exactly the same as the day she had vanished from his life three years ago. Still beautiful in that sharp, dangerous way that had gotten more than one man killed. Still wearing that smile that meant someone was about to bleed.“You’re supposed to be dead.” His voice came out flat, emotionless, even though his hand was already moving toward the gun under his jacket.“Disappointing, I know.” She stood with fluid grace, designer heels clicking against marble as she moved around his desk like she owned the place. “But you kn