Alle Kapitel von OWNED BY THE ENEMY, His Dark Claim: Kapitel 171 – Kapitel 180

Amara’s POV I woke up earlier than I ever had. The sky outside was still a soft shade of blue, the sun barely rising. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to Alessandro’s steady breathing beside me. He was still asleep. Peaceful. Unaware. Carefully, I slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake him. I opened the wardrobe and pulled out a gym outfit I had kept for a long time but never used. The fabric still felt new against my skin. Today felt different. I moved quietly to Venera’s room and pushed the door open gently. She was still asleep in her crib, her tiny chest rising and falling softly. I stood there for a moment longer than necessary, just watching her. My heart tightened. Everything I was about to do… I was doing for her too. Last night, before going to bed, I had told one of the servants to clean my car. I made sure Alessandro didn’t know about it. “And if he asks why you’re cleaning it,” I had told the servant firmly, “don’t say I a

Alessandro’s POV When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the empty space beside me. Amara wasn’t there. At first, I assumed she was in the bathroom. I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting to hear the door open or the sound of running water stop. But minutes passed. Nothing. The bathroom door never opened. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed and walked to check. Empty. No Amara. A small crease formed between my brows. Maybe she was with Venera. I walked to our daughter’s room and pushed the door open quietly. Venera was still fast asleep in her crib, peaceful and unaware. But Amara wasn’t there either. That was when something shifted inside me. Not panic. Not yet. But something close. I didn’t assume anything bad had happened — I refused to — but in our world, you never ignore missing pieces. The moment I stepped into the hallway and saw a servant, I stopped her. “Fetch Elena,” I ordered. If anyone knew where Amara was, i

Amara’s POV I let the cold shower consume me. It’s the only way I can breathe. The water runs over my shoulders, down my spine, numbing the heat beneath my skin. The tension. The panic. The memories. It hasn’t even been a week since I returned from Moscow. Not even a week. And everything is already unraveling. Maybe I should have stayed back in Moscow with Venera. Maybe I should have let Alessandro return to Italy alone. At least that would have saved Marco and me from crossing paths again. From reopening wounds that were never properly closed. I squeeze my eyes shut as the water hits my face. I went to him this morning hoping I could convince him to leave Rome. Just leave. Disappear again. But he refused. He was stubborn. Persistent. “I do not wish to disappear,” he said. The words echo in my mind. He wants to stay. And if he stays… Everything I’ve built is at risk. My marriage. My peace. The fragile balance I’ve fought so hard to maintain. Does he even unde

Alessandro’s POV Damian and I had to make a last-minute stop before dinner. The plan came too suddenly, and when we checked the cellar, what we had didn’t feel… sufficient. If we were hosting family, it had to be done properly. Respectfully. We finally arrived at the store, the overhead lights reflecting off endless rows of bottles. Damian walked beside me quietly, scanning labels with the kind of focus he usually reserves for security briefings. He picked up a bottle and handed it to me. “A new one,” he said. “We haven’t tried it before. Should we?” I examined the label. Normally, I would have declined. I prefer familiarity — especially when hosting. But tonight felt different. “Why not?” I said after a moment. “Let’s try something new.” He nodded and placed it in the cart. At first, I thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. Damian was too quiet. Too careful. I’ve known him long enough to recognize that look — the one where he’s rehearsing words in his head.

Amara’s POV Elena and I had just finished in the kitchen when I heard Alessandro’s voice echo through the hallway. He wasn’t alone. I didn’t need anyone to tell me — our guests had arrived. I turned to Elena. She looked exhausted, strands of hair escaping her neat bun, her shoulders slightly slumped from hours of preparation. “Is the table set?” I asked. “Yes, Signora,” she replied softly. “Then go and rest. I’ll take care of the rest. You look tired.” She straightened immediately. “No, Signora. This is my work. Please let me do it. They are here already. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.” I wanted to insist. But she was right. This wasn’t the time. And the voices in the hall grew clearer. So I wiped my hands, adjusted my dress, and left the kitchen. The moment I stepped into the living room, I saw them. Rebecca. And Lorenzo. Rebecca was heavily pregnant. For a second, I just stared. The last time I saw her, she was walking down the aisle. Now she carried life so v