Lahat ng Kabanata ng His To Possess : Kabanata 131 - Kabanata 140

Calla sat quietly in the back seat with Rico, her hands folded neatly over her lap as the car moved smoothly through the busy afternoon streets. She kept stealing small glances at him, but he was focused on his phone, his jaw set in that familiar hard line that made it impossible to read his thoughts. The soft fabric of her dress brushed against her knees every time she shifted, and she still could not believe he had bought it for her without saying much.It was a simple knee-length dress in a soft champagne color, with thin straps and a fitted waist that flowed gently down without clinging too tightly to her body. There were no heavy stones or loud designs on it, just clean lines and smooth fabric that felt light against her skin. It looked effortless, yet expensive in a quiet way, the kind of dress that did not need to scream to be noticed.She’d paired it with a simple, fitted light cream jacket, the sleeves stopping just at her wrists. It softened the bare look of the dress and m

Calla held her breath the entire way to the restroom, guided by a waiter who politely pointed her in the right direction. The moment she stepped inside the ladies’ room, she released a long, shaky sigh, pressing her right hand against her chest.She didn’t understand why her heart was beating so fast. Maybe it was the way Rico had looked at Isabella. Or the way Isabella had looked at him. Maybe it was the history between them.She scoffed softly at herself and lifted her gaze to the mirror. She stared at her reflection, her mind somewhere else.How many times had he fucked Isabella? More times than he had with her?The thought sent a sharp heat through her chest.She shut her eyes and tried to steady her breathing, her fingers gripping the edge of the sink hard. When she opened them again, her reflection blurred slightly. Tears had slipped down her cheeks, and her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes.“Ugh. Stupid,” she muttered under her breath.She grabbed a few wipes from the corne

Sometimes people see danger rushing toward them, clear as day, and still stand there waiting for it to hit. It’s as if their survival instincts simply switch off... as if some part of them wants to feel the impact instead of running from it.This was exactly what Calla was doing.She knew Rico’s temper. She knew what he was capable of. She saw his eyes darken, saw the veins stand out against his forehead, tight with restrained fury, and yet… she chose to ignore every warning sign.Now here she was, struggling to stay conscious, while fighting his fingers around her neck. The more she twisted to break loose, the more he tightened his hold around her neck.But she didn't cry. She didn't beg or plead for him to stop. She didn't show fear or let him see the fear budding inside her."I am.... not second choice..." he growled out in quiet murmurs. His eyes were hollowed, they didn't move away from hers. Calla's face had started to turn bright red. Her pulse was hammering loudly in her ears

Calla sat quietly before the dressing mirror in Sophia’s room, her reflection staring back at her like someone she barely recognized. Her mind felt distant, caught in a haze she couldn’t pull herself out of. Her breathing was steady. Way too steady for everything that had just happened.She barely felt the sting on her forehead as Sophia gently cleaned the cut, dabbing carefully before applying ointment around it. The sharp scent filled the air, but even that didn’t fully register.The pain should have hurt more. But right now, she felt nothing at all.She kept her eyes on her reflection in the mirror, her thoughts drifting back to the moment Rico had shoved her against the mirror in her room. The memory replayed in her head over and over, like a scene she couldn’t escape.No matter how many times she thought about it, she still couldn’t fully believe he had done that.She released a deep breath, pulling away from her thoughts, finally noticing Sophia had been talking this whole time.

Rico was not used to being looked at that way. People usually looked at him with fear, with caution, or with expectation. They looked at him like he was something to respect or something to survive. No one ever looked at him the way Calla just had, as if she could see past the title, past the power, past the temper, and still decide to stay.It unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.He had spent years building himself into someone untouchable. Someone who did not need comfort, who did not wait to be chosen, who did not break. Yet the way she said she saw him, not the Capo, not the man everyone feared, but him, made something shift in his chest in a way he did not understand.He did not know what to do with a woman who claimed she was still there. He did not know what to do with someone who stayed after seeing his worst side. And that scared him more than being alone ever had.Being feared was the only language he trusted, and distance was the only protection he believed in. If he