All Chapters of MINE TO CLAIM : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Rebecca’s hands trembled as she pulled the cloth completely away from the woman’s face. The familiar features made her stomach drop like she had fallen off a cliff.“Ava,” she gasped, the name barely a whisper.Her best friend lay unconscious on the bed, pale and fragile in ways that Rebecca had never seen before. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her skin had the waxy pallor of someone who had lost too much blood. But it was definitely Ava - the woman she had been worried sick about for weeks.A thousand questions crashed through Rebecca’s mind at once. How had Ava ended up here? Why was she injured? What did her father have to do with any of this? And why had he insisted she come treat a patient without telling her who it was?.Rebecca checked Ava’s pulse one more time, then pulled the sheet back up to keep her warm. Her friend was stable for now, but she needed answers. She needed to understand what was happening.She found Roberto Don in his study, sitting behind the massive oak

“You stupid, selfish bastard.”Riley Martinez didn’t wait for Leandro to fully collapse onto her couch before the words came pouring out. Blood soaked through his shirt, his face was gray with pain, but all she could think about were the months of warnings he’d ignored.“Riley, I—”“Don’t you dare.” She slammed her first aid kit onto the coffee table hard enough to make the supplies jump. “Don’t you dare try to explain this away like you did last time.”Leandro pressed his palm against his shoulder wound, watching her gather antiseptic and gauze with movements that were sharp and angry. Her dark hair had escaped its usual neat ponytail, and there were worry lines around her eyes that made her look older than her thirty-two years.“I need help,” he said quietly.“What you need is a psychiatrist.” Riley pulled on latex gloves with more force than necessary. “But since you’re bleeding on my furniture, I guess medical attention will have to do for now.”She moved his hand away from the wo

“You’re not eating again.”Rebecca looked up from her untouched dinner tray to find Ava sitting beside her father’s makeshift bed. The cell was cramped with four people now, the air thick with worry and the metallic smell of Owen’s injuries.“Neither are you,” Rebecca pointed out.“I’m trying to keep fluids down for the baby. Food just makes me nauseous.” Ava pressed a damp cloth to her father’s forehead. His fever had spiked again, and without proper antibiotics, the infection in his wounds was spreading.“How’s his breathing?”“Shallow. The rib fractures are making it hard for him to expand his lungs fully.” Ava’s voice carried the clinical tone she used when discussing patients, but Rebecca could see the fear underneath. “He needs real medical care.”“We all do.”Cara looked up from where she sat in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees. “Do you think they’re coming for us?”“Dario will come,” Ava said with quiet certainty. “Whatever else is happening, he won’t leave us her

“Tonight marks the end of the Santos dynasty forever.” The Shadow leader’s voice boomed across the celebration hall, his masked face turned toward the crowd of operatives and defectors who had gathered to witness their triumph. He stood on a raised platform beside the display case containing what they believed was Miguel Santos’s medallion, basking in the applause and cheers that followed his declaration.“For too long, this city has lived under the thumb of men who believed themselves untouchable,” he continued, raising his champagne glass. “Men who thought fear and tradition could protect them from justice.”Vincent Torrino, the Santos lieutenant who had questioned Dario’s authority weeks earlier, stepped forward with his own glass raised. “What about his remaining forces? Surely some of his people are still loyal.”“Half his organization is dead as of three hours ago,” the leader announced, his voice carrying savage satisfaction. “Our coordinated strikes across the city eliminate

“You missed.”Dario’s voice cut through the ringing echo of gunfire as he straightened from his slight tilt, the Shadow leader’s bullet having passed close enough to part his hair. He touched his cheek where the round had whispered past, his fingers coming away clean.The Shadow leader stared at his smoking weapon, disbelief written across the visible portion of his face above the mask. In twenty years of operations, he had never missed a target at this range. Never.“Impossible,” he breathed.“You’re shaking,” Dario observed with clinical detachment. “Fear affects accuracy more than people realize.”That single missed shot unleashed hell. Ricco’s voice crackled through Dario’s earpiece. “All units, light them up.”The celebration hall erupted into chaos as muzzle flashes strobed from every direction. Shadow operatives dove for cover behind overturned tables while Santos fighters poured through previously hidden entrances. The elegant chandeliers swayed and shattered under the cross