All Chapters of OWNED BY THE ENEMY, His Dark Claim: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

Alessandro’s POV Amara didn’t return to the Vitale estate. I knew that the moment she passed the turning that should have taken her back through the south road. She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t slow. Didn’t even check her mirrors the way someone unsure of their destination would. She drove like she had already decided where she was going long before she left the courtyard. And she was not going home. I followed her. Not closely. Never closely. Close enough to keep her in sight, far enough that even someone careful wouldn’t notice the pattern behind them. I stayed two vehicles back whenever possible, letting other cars move between us when the road allowed it. When traffic thinned, I slowed deliberately, giving her distance again. She drove straight through the outer district without stopping once. Then she turned toward the Vittorio estate. That was when my grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. Victor. Of course. The gates to the Vittorio property opened before s

Victor’s POV The sound of my phone ringing woke me before sunrise. I didn’t need to check who it was. Salvo only called when something had already been done. Still, I reached for the phone beside the bed and glanced at the screen. Exactly as expected. He had delivered the letters. A slow smile formed before I could stop it. Right on time. I turned slightly on the mattress—and that was when I realized I wasn’t alone. Emma was still asleep beside me. For a moment I didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t even reach for the phone again. Instead I looked around the room properly. Not mine. Not my apartment. Hers. The memory returned in pieces. Her voice on the phone the day before. The tension in it. The man I heard speaking behind her. The address she gave me before the line went quiet. By the time I arrived, the situation had already become simple. The man bothering her wasn’t important. Just loud. Just persistent. Just foolish enough to think

Victor’s POV It didn’t take long after Marco left before Amara returned. I wasn’t surprised. My men had already told me she came earlier and left when they couldn’t find me, but that only confirmed what I already knew—she would come back. Amara wasn’t the kind of woman who walked away from something like this. Not when the ground beneath her life had just shifted. So when she stepped into the room again, I was already waiting. “Signora,” I said the moment our eyes met, “you’re late. I’ve been expecting you.” She didn’t answer. She didn’t greet me. She just kept walking until she stood close enough that silence itself started to feel intentional. I gestured toward the chair opposite me. “Sit.” She ignored the chair at first. Only when she noticed the servants watching her—quietly pretending not to watch—did she finally lower herself into the seat. Pride always adjusted itself in public spaces. I signaled to the staff. “Bring Signora something.” They stepped forward im

Alessandro’s POV By the time Damian and I finished everything at Don Epifanio’s estate, I believed the worst of the day was behind us. The arrangements for the wedding were settled. The final confirmations were done. Nothing important had been left unresolved. For the first time since morning, I allowed myself to think about going home. Damian went ahead to bring the car around from where he had parked it while I stayed near the courtyard steps, watching the household move around me in its usual rhythm. Servants passed. Voices carried faintly from inside the house. Everything looked normal. Too normal. Then Amara arrived. The moment I saw her step out of the car, everything I had tried not to think about returned at once. The envelope. Marco’s expression. The silence between them. And Don Epifanio’s warning earlier that day. For a brief moment before she reached me, I had almost managed to forget it all. Almost. But now she was walking toward me, and I felt something in

Alessandro’s POV Damian woke me earlier than usual that morning. I knew something was wrong the moment I saw his face. “Boss, we have a problem,” he said. There was no hesitation in his voice. No attempt to soften the words. Just urgency. I sat up immediately. “What happened?” “It’s Don Epifanio’s estate,” he replied. “The men in charge of Laura’s wedding arrangements reported an attack last night. Armed men forced their way inside. They destroyed most of the preparations and took whatever they could carry with them.” For a second, I didn’t speak. Then I was already moving. “Get the car ready.” “Yes, boss.” Within minutes, we were on the road. The early morning air still carried that quiet heaviness that comes before the city fully wakes, but my mind was already racing ahead of us—counting losses, measuring consequences, thinking about what needed to be fixed before word of this spread too far. Laura’s wedding wasn’t just a family event. It was a statement. And whoeve