All Chapters of The Capo's Devotion: Own by the Don: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The calls from his uncle would not stop.Day after day, the screen would light with the same name: Uncle Arjun Singh. Each time Alexei’s chest tightened, torn between longing and dread. He had silenced the phone once, thinking he could bury the voice, but blood did not quiet so easily.On the third night of ignoring, the buzzing grew non stop and unbearable. He slipped into the washroom, shut the door, and pressed the phone to his ear, whispering:“Uncle… uncle.”The older man’s voice hit through with relieved. “Alexei! Finally. My boy, why do you hide your voice from me? Are you in trouble? Tell me.”Alexei stood in front of his his mirror. His reflection stared back, pale and hollow-eyed, more stranded than the boy. “I… am busy, Uncle. I work too much.”Arjun sighed on the other end, the kind of sigh that carried both worry and affection. “You always say that. But I hear something in you. Something breaking. Alexei, do not think I am blind.”Alexei closed his eyes, fighting the burn

The ConfrontationsLucien was not a man of hesitation. He had waited, listened, watched, and harvested enough. Spiders spun webs, yes, but even spiders had to strike when the trembling was right.And now, the trembling had become thunder.Alexei had grown reckless. His calls to Arjun were more frequent, his voice strained with urgency, his questions keeps coming. Lucien no longer needed to guess—Vienna was where the path led, and the charm, the so-called Cham, was the prize waiting in the dark.But Lucien was no fool. If he let the boy slip into that journey alone, he might return with more than a ring. He might return with freedom.That would not do.Tonight, the mask of patience would fall.Alexei was in his quarters when the door swung open without a knock. The boy turned, startled, phone still in hand, his eyes widening as Lucien stepped in, cigarette smoke curling behind him like a shadow.“Uncle again?” Lucien’s voice was soft, too dangerous.Alexei’s mouth opened, but no sound

Stranded in ViennaThe cold of Vienna hit Alexei first. It wasn’t the winter chill of Belgium, nor the dampness of Brussels’ streets. No — Vienna’s air had a regal boldness, like the city itself demanded straight backs and proud steps. The airport busy with travelers dragging their lives behind them in suitcases.Yet Alexei felt stranded, even in the crowd.He stood by the baggage carousel with his single bag at his feet, Lucien just behind him, scanning the room like a wolf watching for rivals. Lucien wore the same authority here as he did in Brussels — pressed suit, gloved hands, eyes that dared anyone to step into his orbit. The man seemed untouchable, as if Vienna itself had been waiting for him.But Alexei’s chest was hitting. The thought hammered in his ribs: How will I tell Uncle that I am not alone? That I’ve brought Lucien with me?The uncle’s warnings still sounds like scripture: “The third party, Alexei, beware. They will enter between us and tear you away. Power and love d

The Uncle’s PlottingThe next morning, Arjun Singh sat on his room of the modest Viennese guesthouse, his hands folded like an old sage in meditation. Yet his mind was far from peaceful. He stared out at the sweep of the Danube in the early dawn, the mists rising above the water like veils of secrets. His face, aged by wisdom and grief, betrayed little to those who might look upon him. But within him, the fire burning.The evening before, he had read his nephew like an open book. Alexei—so young, so beautiful, so lost in the storms of this world—had spoken in chosen words, describing Lucien Devereux as if the man were some benefactor, some savior of the streets of Brussels. But Arjun saw what was not spoken: the tremor in Alexei’s voice, the way his eyes kept darting towards Lucien for silent approval, the forced smile that never touched his soul.Lucien, for all his composure, had sat like a king disguised in a businessman’s coat. But for Arjun, he recognized the foil in it—the glint

The departure from Vienna began with the arrangements suitcases and the strong coffee filling the hotel suite. Curtains were drawn back to reveal the roofs. Travelers bustled outside, taxis idled by the curb, and the city carried on as though nothing extraordinary had transpired the night before.But for the three men in that room, nothing would ever be ordinary again.Lucien Devereux was uncharacteristically buoyant. He moved with an energy that startled even Henri, who came to deliver tickets and final arrangements. Normally, the Capo began his days with a scowl and a cigarette, but today he sounds under his breath, poured a whiskey instead of coffee, and tapped his fingers impatiently on the counter.“Vienna has served us well,” Lucien said at last, his eyes fixed on Alexei, who sat at the table, the ring still on his finger. “But Brussels awaits. And in Brussels, boy, the game begins.”Alexei forced a nod. He couldn’t meet Lucien’s desperate eyes for long. The ring still pulsed wi