THE MAFIA KING OBSESSION 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 11 - 챕터 20

DAMON POV The elevator doors opened onto the private floor of the building I owned, a space he rarely allowed anyone to enter. Only those who were necessary, who were trusted, or who were meant to be observed ever crossed this threshold. Tonight, it was for her. He led the way across the sleek marble hallway, his black shoes silent on the polished floor. Victor and two other bodyguards followed at a measured distance, their eyes scanning, scanning, scanning. At the end of the hallway, sliding glass doors revealed the rooftop. Damon paused, allowing the doors to glide open with barely a whisper. The city stretched beneath him in a constellation of lights flickering traffic, distant neon, and the silent pulse of a living metropolis. The rooftop had been transformed: a long table of dark polished wood, chairs carefully placed, candles flickering in windproof holders, and soft, muted lighting casting a warm amber glow across the space. The air carried a gentle breeze, faintly carry

The night air was cool, brushing against my skin as I watched her from across the table. Candlelight flickered along the edges, casting soft shadows on Samantha's face. She sat straight, poised, but there was a subtle tension in the way she held her glass, fingers brushing the stem as if it could anchor her. Her gaze flicked toward the bottle I had poured from, curiosity and unease mixing in her expression. “This… this wine,” she asked cautiously, voice low, hesitant. “Is it… strong? I mean… I don’t want to overdo it.” I leaned back, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. My amber eyes traced the careful tilt of her head, the slight tightening of her fingers around the glass, the tiny swallow she forced herself to make. Every small gesture every micro-expression was a sign of something deeper. Unease. Intrigue. Interest. “You think it’s strong?” I asked softly, voice smooth, deliberate. “Perhaps it is… perhaps it isn’t. Depends on who drinks it.” She froze slightly at the wo

The truth settled heavily in my chest. Something had changed. Not just in my body but in the air itself. In the way the night felt thicker, charged, like the moment before a storm finally breaks. I exhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders back. You are still you. You are still in control. The reminder grounded me just enough to move. I grabbed a paper towel, pressed it lightly against my damp wrists, then dropped it into the bin. My fingers lingered on the edge of the counter for one last second before I turned toward the door. The moment I stepped out of the restroom, the hallway felt cooler. Quieter. But my pulse didn’t slow. Each step back toward the rooftop felt deliberate, like I was walking toward something inevitable rather than simply returning to a table. And when the glass doors came into view… So did he. Damon was already standing. Waiting. He hadn’t sat back down. He hadn’t checked his phone. He hadn’t looked distracted. His attention lock

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting stripes across the floor. My eyes fluttered open slowly, reluctant, and for a fleeting moment, the memory of last night came rushing back. My body tensed instantly. The sheets were warm, still holding the imprint of him. The scent of Damon was sharp and intoxicating, inescapable. My heart skipped a beat, pulse racing, and I immediately remembered the intensity, the closeness, the way my body had betrayed me in ways I hadn’t expected. I shifted carefully, trying not to wake him. My skirt and blouse were scattered across the floor, a chaotic reminder of how last night had unraveled everything I thought I had under control. I knelt to gather my clothes, my fingers brushing against soft fabrics, smooth silk, delicate lace. Shoes were misaligned, my bag tipped over, and personal items were strewn across the room. The mess mirrored the whirlwind of emotions still coursing through me. As I bent to pick up my blouse, I felt movement on t

DAMON’S POV The city had a rhythm I knew better than anyone. Lights flickered in endless grids below the rooftop I had claimed as my own. My penthouse overlooked it all my empire, my control, my territory. And yet, for all the calculated order I had imposed on my life, there was one variable I couldn’t fully tame. Samantha Lopez. I watched from the corner of my office as she moved through the hospital’s halls in my mind, not because I had any reason to follow her here God knew I didn’t need to but because of something utterly trivial that shouldn’t have mattered. Her co-doctor. I had seen him, or at least the image of him flashed into my awareness from a message Victor had intercepted earlier. Nothing threatening, nothing criminal. Just… another man smiling at her, speaking to her, standing too close. Too close. And in that instant, a low growl rose from deep in my chest. Jealousy. I hadn’t felt it like this in years. Not like the tight, burning twist in my gut, not like