All Chapters of Claimed By My Ex’s Mafia Father in-law : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Chapter Eighty TwoValerio’s POVI carried her myself.Her body felt weightless in my arms, but only because she had lost too much strength. Her head rested against my chest, her breathing shallow, uneven. Every time her lashes fluttered, something in my chest tightened so sharply I had to force myself to breathe.The nurse hurried beside me. The doctor followed with his bag.Into my room I ordered quietly.They obeyed instantly.I laid her on my bed gently, more carefully than I intended, and stepped back as the medical team rushed forward. Electrodes. Vitals. Oxygen. A cold cloth pressed to her forehead. Fingers checking her pulse. A flashlight to her eyes.I watched all of it with my hands behind my back because if I touched her again I did not trust myself to let go.Her father’s finger flashed again in my mind. The blood. The threat. The shaking in her voice before she fainted.My jaw clenched so hard it ached.She is stable but her nervous system is in shock the doctor said. She

Chapter Eighty Four Valerio’s POV The sound of their voices followed me out of the room. Her quiet sobs. His broken gratitude. I shut the door behind me before either of them could see what was in my eyes. I should have felt relief. One problem solved. One debt cleared. One family pacified. Instead, all I felt was noise. Noise in my chest. Noise in my head. The moment I returned to my office, Tommaso was waiting by the door. His phone in one hand, his expression sharp. “Boss, we traced the transaction,” he said. “The loan sharks were under Markov territory, just as you suspected. But there’s more.” I leaned against the desk. “Go on.” “The Markovs have been monitoring your construction sites for weeks. Satellite feeds, shipment schedules, maybe even your people. The Russians knew about Elena before she ever stepped into your company.” My fingers drummed once against the table. “Meaning?” “Meaning her family’s debt might not be random. They could have used her as leverage witho

Chapter Eighty SixValerio’s POV I leaned back in my leather armchair, the dim light of my study casting long shadows across the mahogany walls. The cigar between my fingers was a Cuban Cohiba, its rich, earthy aroma filling the room like a lover's whisper. I took a slow drag, savoring the burn in my throat, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. It was my ritual, this moment of solitude before the storm. The day had been long deals sealed in blood and ink, enemies crushed underfoot. But now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, my thoughts turned to her. Or at least, to the one I thought was her. Elena. My obsession, my ghost.I exhaled a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate like fleeting memories. My mansion was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city outside. I reached for the intercom on the side table, pressing the button with a deliberate click. "Dimitri," I said, my voice low and commanding. "Send one of the girls to the red room. The one with the dark hair. Have h

Chapter Eighty EightElena’s POVThe drive to the barrister’s house felt longer than it actually was. My father kept glancing at me from the corner of his eye, as if he expected me to break again at any second. I held myself together with the last thread of strength I had left. I needed to get him somewhere safe. That was the only thing I could focus on.When we arrived, the barrister welcomed us with a stiff smile. His eyes kept darting toward the gate as if the shadows outside were filled with teeth. Papa walked in slowly, clutching his bandaged hand. The barrister guided him to the living room while I stood near the door feeling strangely out of place.Then they both called me.Sit Elena the barrister said.Papa nodded. Sit here my daughter. We need to talk.Those four words made my stomach twist. Nothing good ever started with we need to talk.I sat. My hands lay on my thighs shaking slightly.Papa took a deep breath. The barrister placed a hand on his shoulder gently urging him t

Chapter NinetyElena’s POVThe restaurant became my whole world. Morning to night, day after day, I buried myself into it as if work could wash away everything I had survived. The workers already knew my footsteps. They greeted me with respect now, softer gazes, less judgment. Maybe it was because they saw me fight. Maybe it was because Valerio had brought my father out of prison right in front of everyone. Or maybe some of them simply felt guilty for believing the architect’s lies. I did not care. I just wanted the job done.The building was finally taking shape again. The walls were smooth. The kitchen tiles polished. The lights bright enough to sparkle on every corner. I kept a notebook tucked under my arm at all times, filled with numbers and receipts and sketches. Every single dollar spent was recorded. I refused to ever be accused of theft again. I refused to ever be in that position again.I only talked to Papa in the evenings. He had moved back home safely with the help of the