All Chapters of Sold to the Mafia king : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Lina’s POVThe air between us felt different now. Not hostile. Not safe either. Charged.Carlino hadn’t moved, but the distance between us no longer felt like space. It felt like a decision waiting to be made.I tightened my grip on the scarf in my hands. “You should go back to work.”“I am working.”“Staring at me isn’t a task,” I declared.“It is when you’re about to do something reckless.”I scoffed. “Breathing without permission doesn’t count as reckless.”His jaw flexed, but there was no anger in it. Just restraint stretched thin. “You think this is about control.” “It is. It always is with you.”“That’s not fair.”I stepped past him, brushing his arm on purpose this time. “Neither is locking me in a house like a prized hostage.”His hand shot out — not grabbing, just catching my wrist lightly. A question, not a command. I looked down at his fingers, then back at him. “C

Lina’s POV The drive back from the warehouse was silent. Carlino’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his silence a physical weight in the cramped interior of the car. We didn't head back to the bungalow, he took a sharp turn toward a secluded apartment overlooking the industrial docks. It was a fortress of glass and cold stone, far from the prying eyes of his men."Trade?" I whispered, the word finally breaking through the static in my head. "Carlino, what are they going to trade me for?""Nothing," he snapped, his voice a jagged edge. "Because it’s not happening.""You can't just 'nothing' a threat like that!" I rounded on him as he killed the engine. "They were inside your car. They were inside the warehouse.” He turned to me, his eyes dark pits of frustration. "I am trying to keep you alive, Lina. Why is that so hard for you to grasp?""Because you're treating me like a cursed object instead of a person!" I shoved the door open and marched toward the elevator.Insi

Lina’s POVThe fall knocked the air out of me. I hit the dumpster lid, rolled, and slammed onto the wet pavement of the alley. Pain burst through my hip and shoulder, but I forced myself to move. The gas was already burning my lungs.Footsteps crunched nearby.“Well,” the man from the car said, voice amused, “that was dramatic.”I staggered up, knife still in my hand. My vision swam, but I kept it pointed at him. “Where is he?”He smiled like we were discussing the weather. “You really think he’s coming back?”A car door slammed behind him.The man didn’t flinch.I did.A second later, two men stepped out of the shadows at the alley entrance, guns raised — not at me.At him.The man's smile dropped. A familiar voice cut through the night. “Step away from her.”I didn’t turn right away. I knew that voice when it was calm like that. It meant someone was about to die.The man laughed nervously. “Well, that’s inconvenient.”I turned.Carlino stood at the mouth of the alley, suit jacket g

Lina’s POVCarlino didn’t answer.I waited. Ten seconds. Fifteen. But nothing.A strange sound left my throat — not quite a laugh. “Okay. Good talk.”“Lina—” he finally decided to speak.“Don’t.” I held up a hand, but it shook, so I curled it into a fist. “You don’t get to say my name like you didn’t just help blow up my entire life.”The night air felt thick, hard to breathe. My chest was tight, like someone had wrapped wire around my ribs and kept twisting.“I was trying to protect you,” he said.“That sentence is starting to sound like a threat,” I scoffed.His jaw flexed. He took a step forward.I stepped back. “No. Stay there. You don’t get to be close right now.”That stopped him.I wiped my face with both hands, angry that I was crying at all. “For how long did you know about this, Carlino?”“The day I brought you to the estate, the moment father saw you, he knew. That's why he called you Dwan.”A nervous laughter escaped my lips. “All these days, weeks, you didn't think I sho

Lina’s POVThree weeks. Three weeks without gunfire. Without threats.Without bodies appearing as messages. Peace should’ve felt like relief. Instead, it felt like standing on thin ice and pretending not to hear the cracks.The estate was quieter, but not calmer. Phones rang more. Voices stayed lower. Doors closed faster. Money was moving — just not toward Carlino.Investors were “restructuring.” Partners were “waiting to see how things developed.” Which was business language for: We don’t want to drown with you.And me?I started stepping back.Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone to call me out.I just stopped stepping in. I used to sit in Carlino’s office while he worked, feet tucked under me on the couch, pretending to read while he ruled empires on silent phone calls. I talked back when it was inconvenient for me to accept their words, but now, I just stare at them as they talk. I speak only when it's appropriate.Now, I sat in the sunroom instead. Different parts. Different v