Alle Kapitel von He’s a Mafia, He’s a Werewolf, and He’s My Boss: Kapitel 61 – Kapitel 70

ADAMThe balcony was drenched in night. City lights sprawled beneath us like molten gold, the hum of distant traffic a soft, constant thrum. I drew on my cigarette, letting the smoke curl around my fingers before drifting into the darkness, and felt the tension in my shoulders loosen just a fraction."Why didn’t you tell me you were back in the city?" John’s voice cut sharp through the quiet, his tone calm but edged with steel.I shrugged, tilting my head, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "I wanted to surprise you."His eyes lingered on me, piercing. "Is Alpha aware you’re back?"I chuckled softly, the sound low, almost playful. "Funny… they all quake at the sight of Malaki, my brother. And yet… here I am, standing in his city, breathing freely."John’s gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening. "Who wouldn’t be afraid of him? That man… he’s a devil. In his werewolf form… he could kill thousands in five minutes.""I know." I let the words drift, watching the smoke curl upward like ghostly f

LAURA His gaze drilled into me, sharp, unyielding, like it could strip me bare if I let it. I felt it in the hollow of my stomach, in the quick hitch of my breath like someone had thrown a spotlight over me, exposing every thought I tried to hide.“I want to be your master,” he said, casual, almost lazy, like he wasn’t confessing something insane but making an ordinary request.A short, startled laugh burst from me before I could stop it.“Oh, really? Do I look like someone you can turn into a pet? Like your brother Malaki did to my friend?”The memory flared behind my ribs, sharp and hot, and the anger behind it propelled my words forward.“Laura!” my brother’s voice cut through the tension like a whip, harsh and immediate.The stranger didn’t flinch. Not a muscle moved except that slow, dangerous smile spreading across his lips, the kind that made your skin prickle and your instincts scream both warning and curiosity.“Interesting,” he murmured, leaning just a fraction closer. “How

LYRA“Excuse me. I’ll be back,” Malaki murmured, already turning away before I could even lift a finger to stop him. His scent dark, woodsy, familiar lingered for a moment, then faded into the noise of the hall.And just like that, I was alone.The table beside me looked like something out of a royal banquet silver trays, glass bowls, food arranged like artwork. Steam curled from the grilled chicken, the spicy jollof shimmered under the lights, and the pastries looked delicate enough to crumble under a breath. Everything was perfect… and still, it wasn’t enough to fill the small, hollow ache forming in my chest.I drifted my eyes across the hall. Gold dripped everywhere chandeliers, decorations, jewelry catching the light as people laughed and leaned into each other. Couples moved like they belonged to a different world: the world where people didn’t get abandoned beside fancy food tables.My red gown suddenly felt too bright, too loud, like it was screaming for attention I didn’t wan

LAURAI couldn’t take my eyes off Lyra.Malaki’s hand rested at her waist, not tight enough to look forceful, yet not loose enough to allow escape. It was the kind of hold that didn’t need strength to be controlling. Lyra stood stiff beneath it, her breath shallow, her fingers curling and uncurling like she was counting seconds in her head. She didn’t look at him. She barely blinked.I knew that posture. I’d worn it once. Waiting. Enduring.Whatever Malaki was whispering, Lyra’s throat worked as if she were swallowing something bitter. Her eyes flicked around the room not searching for help, but measuring distance. Calculating. That scared me more than tears would have.My nails dug into my palms. If I had a gun, I would have used it. I imagined the sound, the chaos, Lyra finally free. The thought settled in my chest like a promise.“Do you want to go there?”Adam’s voice cut through me. I turned slowly, my jaw tight. The resemblance hit me again same sharp features, same careless con

MALAKII dug my nails into my scalp, the sharp scrape of my own grip barely registering against the roar in my blood. My skin crawled, a toxic heat spreading beneath the surface a mixture of jarring disbelief and a pure, arctic fury. Someone had actually dared. Someone had the sheer, suicidal nerve to discharge a weapon under my roof, in the middle of my gala. Even now, with the room silent, the image flickered behind my eyelids like a broken projector: the chandelier overhead exploding into a rain of jagged crystal, narrowly missing Lyra’s head as I hauled her through the screaming tide of the crowd.I slammed my fist into the mahogany desk. The heavy thud didn't just echo; it seemed to vibrate through the floorboards, disappearing into the hollow silence of the study."I don't want excuses!" I snarled at the empty shadows. My security team had spent the last several hours dissecting the surveillance feeds, frame by agonizing frame. They found nothing. No muzzle flash, no suspicious