Alle Kapitel von OWNED BY THE ENEMY, His Dark Claim: Kapitel 151 – Kapitel 160

Alessandro’s POV The days in Moscow moved faster than I ever thought they would. Venera had been barely a week old when we arrived—small, fragile, always curled against Amara’s chest—while Amara herself couldn’t even stand without help. Back then, everything felt uncertain, like walking through fog without knowing what waited ahead. Now, time had rewritten our reality. Venera had cut her first tiny teeth, her smiles coming quicker, brighter, the sound of her laughter filling spaces I never knew were empty. She was healthy, strong, and alive in a way that brought effortless joy to both of us. Sometimes I caught myself just staring at her, overwhelmed by how something so small could carry so much light. Amara, too, had changed. She still wasn’t strong enough to walk properly, not yet—but she could tiptoe. It wasn’t much to anyone else, but to me, it felt like a miracle unfolding in slow motion. Every careful step she took, every determined breath she held while practicing,

Amara’s POV I woke up to see baby Venera in Alessandro’s arms. That alone wasn’t unusual. Most mornings, I opened my eyes to that sight—him holding her carefully, smiling down at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. But this morning was different. He wasn’t smiling. No one needed to say anything for me to know something was wrong. I pushed myself upright immediately. “What’s wrong, Lio?” I asked, my voice soft but urgent, my eyes searching his face for answers. He sighed, the sound heavy, weighed down by fear. “I think Venera might be running a fever,” he said quietly. “Her body feels hotter than usual, and she hasn’t been smiling at me like she always does.” He looked down at her again, worry tightening his features. “She’s too silent, Ama. I don’t know what to think… I don’t know what to do.” Seeing fear in Alessandro’s eyes was enough to make my chest ache. I gently took Venera from him and pulled her close to my chest. The moment my skin touched

Victor’s POV Marco immediately turned toward the voice that called his name. The moment his eyes landed on me, recognition flashed across his face — followed instantly by irritation. Without saying another word, he turned back to the door and quickly unlocked it, clearly intending to slip back inside and shut us out. But I was faster. I moved before he could step in, planting my hand against the doorframe and blocking his way. Marco stopped, jaw tightening. For a second, we just stared at each other. He understood there was no clean way out of this now. Slowly, he stepped back. “Hello, Victor,” he said at last, tone casual but guarded. “It’s been a while.” I smiled lightly, as if we were old friends meeting by coincidence. “I see you’re about to step out,” I said. Marco slid his hands into his pockets, expression unreadable. “I was just on my way to have a drink at my favorite bar,” he replied. Perfect. “Oh,” I said, nodding. “That’s good then. I’ll come along.” His f

Victor’s POV At first, I thought Marco was planning something. You don’t just drag a man back into Rome after years away and expect him to sit quietly. Especially not Alessandro’s brother. Blood like theirs never stays calm for long. But after a week of watching him, suspicion turned into irritation. My boys reported the same thing every day. He left early. Went to the same bar. Drank. Sat alone. Ignored everyone. Returned late. No secret meetings. No shady deals. No attempts to run. Just drinking. It annoyed me more than if he’d actually been plotting something. Yesterday, I found him in my kitchen, pouring coffee like he owned the place. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he looked like a man who didn’t care where he woke up. “You’re going out again?” I asked. He didn’t look at me. “You already know the answer.” “You could at least pretend to appreciate the hospitality.” He scoffed. “You kidnapped me.” “Strong word.” “Accurate word.” He took his coffee an

Alessandro’s POV It was Damian’s call that woke me up that morning. For a moment, I was confused, still half asleep as my phone vibrated against the nightstand. But the second I saw Damian’s name flashing on the screen, sleep left my body instantly. Damian never called this early unless something was wrong. Careful not to wake Amara, who was still asleep beside me, I quickly picked up the phone and slipped out of the bedroom before answering. The apartment was quiet, with faint winter light slipping through the living room windows. I finally answered. But I didn’t speak immediately. I needed to hear his voice first. Damian greeted me quickly, his voice tense. “Boss.” I leaned against the wall, my chest tightening. “Did something happen?” I asked immediately. “Are you in trouble?” “No,” Damian replied quickly. But his voice still held worry. “La Camorra called an urgent meeting.” My brows pulled together. “About what?” “I don’t know,” he admitted. “They didn’t say.”