All Chapters of OWNED BY THE ENEMY, His Dark Claim: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Alesandro’s POV The house was quieter than usual when I returned. Too quiet. Even the servant’s movement seems rehearsed, muted, as though the walls themselves understood my mood. Damian shadowed me through the hall, updating me on routine matters, but I only half-listened. My thoughts were elsewhere—on the memory of waking this morning in that bed, Amara’s body tangled against me, her skin bare, her face soft with sleep. I had told myself it meant nothing. That exhaustion and alcohol had tricked my body into betraying me. Yet the image refused to leave me, resurfacing now as she stood across the room, small and tense, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. I forced my expression into stone. Is your room satisfactory? I had asked, my voice deliberately flat, as if her comfort mattered only in principle. She had nodded, whispered yes. But the truth? Watching her stand there—nervous, out of place, trying to mask the storm I could almost feel pulsing beneath her skin—it unsettled me. I

Alessadro’s POV The table was cleared, but I remained seated, my glass untouched. The silnce between us had thickened until even the servants moved more quietly, sensing the tension that clung to the air. Amara shifted slightly, as though she might speak, but I count in first. I cleared my throat, measured. “About last night.” Her eyes flickered up to mine, cautious, waiting. “I did not plan for it to happen. And I’m certain you feel the same.” My tone was flat, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “So I want you to treat it as nothing. Nothing happened, and nothing will happen again. That much, I promise you.” Her lips parted, as though she wanted to object, but I pressed on. “Your room,” I continued, my gaze steady on her. “It is not only for the day. From now on, you will sleep there at night as well. Do not concern yourself with me.”The faintest crease appeared between her brows, but she held her tongue. “And if you read the marriage contract carefully, you’ll have noti

Alessandeo’s POV She emerged from her room, and for a fleeting moment, my breath caught. That dress—silk that clung to her curves, the necklines drawing attention in ways she did not intend—fit her more perfectly than I had imagined. I wanted to tell her, to let the words slip past the wall I kept between us. But I bit them back. It was Elena who had been tasked with arranging Amara’s wardrobe before the marriage, drawing only from imagination since she had never seen her. Somehow, she had guessed correctly. “Since you are ready.” I said evenly, adjusting the cuff of my shirt, “and I will be passing by your Nonna’s house, so I will come with you. I may as well say hello. I didn't wait for her reply. My stride was measured, deliberate, and I heard her quick steps behind me as she rushed to keep pace. Damian poked the backseat door for me first, then hers. She slipped in beside me silent. The drive was cloaked in quiet. No words, just the faint hum of the engine and the s

Victor’s POVThis was the kind of drama I usually enjoyed—except when it cut against me. After Don Francesco dropped his bomb, the room froze. The silence was heavy, the air thick with an unspoken shift. Everyone waited to see if Alessandro would dare defy the eldest voice of La Camorra Nera. My father had always wanted me betrothed to Ginevra. But Don Francesco rejected us outright, insisting his daughter be tied to Don Vitale’s eldest son instead. Alessandro. Even if Alessandro had been taken, Francesco would have preferred her to his half-brother—seven years younger than Ginevra—rather than me. That was how deep his contempt for my father and me ran. For us. For our bloodline. So when Alessandro married another woman, I thought my chance had come. Finally, Ginevra could be mine. I had wanted her for myself since we were young. But once again the elders tightened their grip, ruining what should have been my fortune. And now—this? To hear Don Francesco suggest Alessandro cast asi

Amara’s POV The doctor’s words felt like a blow to my chest. “You should have brought her earlier,” he said, frowning as he closed Nonna’s chart. “We’ll need to run further tests tomorrow. She’ll have to remain here under observation.” I nodded, though my throat felt tight. Guilt knotted in my stomach. I wanted to tell him it hadn't been my choice, that I’d had no power to bring her sooner. But explanations wouldn't change the truth written across his face: disappointment. I kissed Nonna’s hand, whispering I would return tomorrow, before Damian led me out. The ride back was quiet, too quiet. Damian’s eyes flicked to me in the mirror once, then back to the road. I thought he might offer something—reassurance, maybe even pity—but he didn't. His silence was almost worse than the doctor’s judgment. By the time we pulled through the gates of the Vitale estate, my heart felt heavier than it had when I’d left. The house greeted me with shadows and silence. No warmth. No comfor