All Chapters of Claimed By My Ex’s Mafia Father in-law : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Chapter Sixty OneSandra’s POVFor a second, I wondered if Brian was joking.A construction site guy…A man who fought an armed psycho for me…A man who smelled like smoke and danger……parked us in front of a church.He put the gear in park and leaned back in his seat, lips curling into a small smile that made his dimples show.“Welcome to church,” he said casually, as though he had just driven us to a pizza shop.My brain sputtered.I blinked at him. Then blinked again.“No, seriously. What are we doing here?”Instead of answering, he chuckled softly, resting one arm over the steering wheel.“Don’t worry. I’m not trying to convert you. I’m a youth leader here. I’m only staying about an hour and thirty minutes. I thought…” he shrugged lightly, “you could join.”I stared at him like he’d just asked me to climb Everest barefoot.“Join?” I asked slowly. “Like …inside?”He nodded. “Inside.”I looked down at myself.Tank top.Short skirt.Thighs visible.Eyeliner smudged from running.And

Chapter Sixty ThreeSandra’s POVI kept my eyes shut, wishing I could disappear into the tile floor.If I didn’t look at him…maybe he’d vanish.Maybe I could pretend none of this happened.But Brian didn’t move.I felt him there quiet, steady like a wall that refused to fall no matter how much I pushed.“You’re too pure for me,” I repeated, weaker this time.My voice cracked down in the middle.A long silence followed.Then…“That’s a lie,” he said softly.I flinched.Because it wasn’t anger.It wasn’t annoying.It was worse.It was understanding.I opened my eyes only halfway. He was crouched in front of me, elbows resting on his knees, head dipped low so he could meet my face. His shirt was still crisp, his cologne still clean. Everything about him felt too gentle for the neon-filth that stained the room.“You think I’m pure?” he asked, almost amused.“You have no idea what I’ve done.”I swallowed, my throat closing.He reached out not touching me, just placing his hand near mine o

Chapter Sixty FiveAlena’s POVThe desert night should have been quiet.But the walls around me hummed.Not from music…Not from voices…But from something deeper.A vibration in the bones.A warning in the blood.I lay on the gold-lined bed, eyes open, staring at a ceiling carved with moons and Arabic verses I couldn’t read. Every curve looked like a prayer.Or a threat.Valerio had left hours ago.Left me with food I couldn’t eat, water I barely touched, and a guard who refused to look me in the eye.I’d pretended to sleep.He didn’t care enough to check.The cameras did.A soft red light blinked in the corner.Watching.Breathing.Waiting.I sat up, hugging my knees. The shawl he’d wrapped around me earlier still carried his scent cigar smoke, oud, and something darker I couldn’t name.I hated how it calmed me.I hated how his presence still clung to my skin when he wasn’t here.I hated…that I didn’t hate him enough.The memory of his mouth on mine wild, consuming, terrifying flas

Chapter Sixty SevenElena’s POVSophia stepped closer, her eyes dragging over me like I was a stain someone forgot to scrub off the sidewalk. She flicked her glossy hair and wrinkled her nose at my abaya, like the sight of me physically offended her.“This outfit looks like charity from a blind beggar. You’re trash, Elena. Actual trash.”Lucas leaned his elbow lazily against the car window, grinning like a demon ready for mischief.“Relax, Sophia. I’ll call her if my boys need a midnight booty call. Desperate strays always know how to entertain. Might be the only way she gets a real man, don’t you think?”Their laughter stabbed deep. My fingers tightened around the fabric at my sides, but I forced myself to look ahead. I refused to give them the satisfaction of breaking in front of them. One step forward, then another. Just keep walking.But the moment I turned away, Sophia’s voice sliced behind me.“I’m talking to you!”Before I could react, she flung her drink at me. Cold liquid spl

Chapter Sixty NineElena’s POVValerio did not flinch. His gaze held on me for a single breath, unreadable, then he turned away. No reaction and no question and no acknowledgment. I could not decide which was worse, a storm or emptiness. He walked toward his car with calm steps like he had not just heard that men had put their hands on my father.I tried to say his name but the sound died in my throat. He did not turn. Tommaso’s eyes met mine with a flicker of something that looked like pity, then it was gone. Valerio slid into the back seat. The door closed. The fleet rolled away and their tires left a smear of dust that felt like a sentence.I stood alone and held the abaya tight and finally let myself break. The tears were hot and reckless and tasted like salt and shame. When they were spent I breathed slow and counted to ten and told my heart to move. Crying would not buy time. Crying would not stop pain. I needed a plan, and if he would not give me one I would make my own.I deci