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Home / Mafia / When Innocence Burns / Chapter 31 - Chapter 38

All Chapters of When Innocence Burns: Chapter 31 - Chapter 38

38 Chapters

Thirty: Dangerous Distraction

Thirty: Dangerous DistractionZacian POVThe door to the master suite remained closed for three hours. I spent that time in the living room, staring out at the Strip, a tumbler of whiskey in my hand, untouched. The silence in the penthouse was grating. I was used to noise—traffic, construction, the hum of the city below. But this? This was the quiet of a tomb. Or a cage. My mind kept drifting back to the bedroom. To the soft rise and fall of her breathing behind the closed door. I imagined stripping those sheets back, peeling that silk nightgown from her skin inch by inch until she was bare and trembling. *I wanted to wake her up with my head between her thighs, forcing those sleepy moans into cries of pleasure, making her wet and desperate before she even opened her eyes.* I checked my wa

Thirty One: A Father’s Wrath

Thirty One: A Father’s WrathDominic POVThe safehouse smelled of stale cigarette smoke and gun oil. It was a cramped apartment in North Las Vegas, far from the Strip, far from the gleaming towers where Zacian sat on his throne. I sat at a scarred wooden table, staring at a burner phone. The screen was black, but I could feel it vibrating with the weight of everything I’d lost."Report," I said, my voice rough.Alex stood across from me, looking like he’d gone ten rounds with a freight train. He was pacing, his energy jagged. "Fremont is burning. We hit the fuel depot and the main warehouse. It’s chaos, Dom. Zacian’s men are running around like headless chickens.""Good," I said, though there was no satisfaction in the word. "And the product?""Gone. Destroyed. Or looted by the street gangs before his boys could secure it. Either way, he’s bleeding millions tonight."I nodded slowly. It was a start. A small, bloody scratch on the face of a giant. But it wasn't enough. It would never b

Thirty Two: The Cost of Doing Business

Thirty Two: The Cost of Doing BusinessZacian POVThe first light of dawn was just beginning to bleed across the desert sky, painting the clouds in shades of bruised purple and angry orange. It was the color of a bad decision.I hadn't slept.My office was a command center, the walls of screens showing a cascade of red numbers and live security feeds. The Fremont port was still smoldering, a black wound on the city's economic map. Each number that flashed was a piece of my empire, chipped away by a man I once considered a brother."Talk to me," I said into the phone, my voice flat.Ryker's voice crackled through the speaker, strained. "It's bad, boss. The fuel depot is a total loss. The main warehouse is gone. Insurance won't cover it, not with the way it was hit. We're looking at a twenty-million-dollar hit, minimum. And that's just the beginning.""And the product?""Vaporized or in the wind," Ryker said. "Dominic's crews hit hard and fast. They knew exactly where to strike."Of cou

Thirty Three: A Dangerous Comfort

Thirty Three: A Dangerous ComfortCecilia POVI didn't stop running until the door to the bedroom was shut and the lock clicked into place. The sound was deafening in the silence, a final, definitive punctuation mark to the conversation. My back hit the wood and I slid down, my legs giving out from under me. I landed on the plush rug with a soft thud, the impact jarring my ribs. A sharp, white-hot flare of pain shot through my side, stealing my breath. It was a brutal, grounding reminder of the reality I was trying to escape. The injuries that lingered from torture. The pain was distant, though, a dull echo compared to the screaming in my head. Orphan. The word echoed in the cavernous space of my mind, bouncing off the walls of my memory, of my life, of everything I thought I knew.

Thirty Four: A Lesson in Ownership

Thirty Four: A Lesson in OwnershipZacian POVThe numbers on the screen swam before my eyes, meaningless red and black blips. A twenty-million-dollar hit. Retaliation planned. Supply lines disrupted. It was all noise. A dull, distant hum compared to the roaring silence coming from the monitor showing the master suite. She hadn't moved. For three hours, she'd been a statue on the edge of the bed, a small figure swallowed by my gray t-shirt. The soup I'd left was cold now, the surface congealed into a greasy film. A perfect, pathetic symbol of her defiance. It was an insult. A direct, personal insult to my power, my generosity, my control. I ran a hand through my hair, the frustration a hot, acidic churn in my gut. I'd orchestrated a war, managed the fallout of a multi-million-do

Thirty Five: A Viper in a Cage

Thirty Five: A Viper in a CageCecilia POVI didn't know how long I lay there. Time had lost its meaning, compressed into the space between one shuddering breath and the next. The world had shrunk to the rough texture of the duvet against my cheek and the phantom taste of cold, greasy soup that coated the back of my throat, a viscous reminder of my submission. He was gone. The weight of his body, the scent of cedar and leather, the low, dangerous rumble of his voice. All of it had receded, leaving a vacuum so profound it felt like a physical pressure against my skin. The silence was the worst part. It was thick, heavy, and filled with the echoes of his power. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers digging into my jaw, the implacable strength that had forced my mouth open. I could still feel the hard, demanding ridge of his cock against my stomach, a horrifying testament to his aro

Thirty Six: The First Performance

Thirty Six: The First PerformanceCecilia POVThe hour felt like a lifetime and a second all at once. I spent it not in idle waiting, but in mental rehearsal. I ran through every possible scenario for my upcoming calls. I practiced the lines in my head, not just the ones he would give me, but the ones I might want to subtly slip in. I would be a model student, a dedicated volunteer. I would be so perfectly, boringly normal that no one would suspect a thing. And in that perfection, I would find my cracks. A sharp, double knock on the door pulled me from my planning. It wasn't Zacian's single, commanding rap. This was different. Professional. Efficient. I opened it to find two men standing in the hallway. They were broad-shouldered and expressionless, dressed in simple, black tactical pants and plain, dark polo shirts with a small, discreet logo I didn't recognize ove

Hiatus Notice

Hey guys, I have been really, really sick, so I will be taking a brief 7-14 day hiatus. I need to recover and make it so I can give you proper, top notch content. I love you all! Thanks for understanding!

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