All Chapters of Owned by my husband’s boss: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Anna’s POV Anna’s vision blurred as she looked down at her mother’s hand. It felt like parchment—thin, translucent, and terrifyingly fragile. She traced the blue veins with her thumb, trying to anchor herself to the woman who was slowly slipping away. “Don’t cry, my love,” her mother whispered. The smile she offered was a ghost of her former self, pale and flickering. It didn't ease the ache in Anna’s chest. Every day, the cancer seemed to take another bite out of her mother, leaving behind someone smaller and weaker. “How can I not?” Anna’s voice cracked, a jagged sob catching in her throat. “I miss the old you so much, Mom. I even miss you nagging at me every five minutes.” A faint sparkle appeared in her mother’s tired eyes. “Give it time. I’ll be back to nagging you soon enough.” Anna let out a wet laugh, wiping her eyes with her shoulder. As she moved, her mother’s gaze drifted to Anna’s outfit, landing on the sharp lines of her professional clothes. “I got a job,

Anna's POV Anna stumbled back, her eyes wide with terror. The elevator doors were a second away from closing, but Jake’s hand shot through the gap. He stepped out just in time. Anna spun around, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor as she tried to bolt down the hallway. “Anna!” his voice boomed, the sound making her heart hammer against her ribs. She wasn't fast enough. Jake’s fingers clamped around her arm like a vice. He jerked her toward him, his face inches from hers, his eyes red with rage. “Where did you go last night?” “Let go of me!” she cried, twisting her arm, but his grip only tightened. “You think you’re brave? You think you can just run away from me?” He pulled her back so hard she winced, a sharp pain shooting through her shoulder. “I searched everywhere for you, you fucking bitch. Where the fuck were you?” Anna clawed at his hand, her breath coming in jagged gasps. “You’re hurting me, Jake!” “Who would have thought I’d find you he

"The all-powerful Anthony Jeffery!" Luca threw his arms wide as Anthony stepped into the velvet-lined VIP section. A smug grin tugged at the corners of Anthony’s mouth. "Where have you been, man? It feels like a lifetime since you’ve set foot in here," Luca said. He wasn't exaggerating. The club used to be Anthony’s second home, but since Anna entered the picture, his spot at the bar had gathered dust. Anthony sank into the leather chair, his smirk never fading. He tipped a bottle over his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl before tossing it back. He let the chill settle in his throat, then leaned back and looked at his friend. "Old habits never die, do they?" Anthony spread his arms, claiming the space. "Seriously, where did you vanish to?" Luca leaned in, eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me you actually started liking your office desk." Anthony’s mind flashed to Anna—the scent of her skin and the way they had spent their recent nights. A genuine smile broke through his

“Anna, are you okay?” Anthony asked. His voice snapped her back to reality, and she blinked rapidly to clear her head. “It’s nothing. We should go now,” she said quickly. He gave a small nod. When they reached the cafeteria, Anna moved through the line like a robot. She didn't even look at the food she was piling onto her tray. Her mind was spinning—why was Jake here? What could he possibly want? “Are you sure you’re going to eat that?” Vincent asked, breaking her thoughts again. She looked down at her plate. It was a messy pile of mixed food that looked completely unappetizing. She forced an awkward laugh. “It’s... good to try something new,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “Oh, okay,” Vincent said with a shrug and a smile. They sat down at a table, but Anna just moved the food around with her fork. Vincent leaned in, watching her. “There is something on your mind. And don’t tell me it’s nothing,” he said. Anna looked up at him, wondering if he knew the truth about

The sharp, sterile sting of antiseptic hit Anna before she even opened her eyes. When she finally did, the room was a white smear that slowly sharpened into focus. She tried to move, but a jagged spike of pain shot through her skull, forcing a gasp from her throat. Her hand reached up, fingers brushing against the thick, scratchy layers of a gauze bandage wrapped tight around her head. “How did I get here?” she whispered. The silence of the room was suddenly shattered by a flood of memories from the night before. Each image—the shouting, the raised hand, the impact—felt like a physical blow. “That monster,” she spat. Her voice trembled, and hot tears pooled in her eyes. She knew his hatred ran deep, but the physical evidence wrapped around her head was a new, terrifying low. Her mind raced. Who had found her? Was it Naomi? The heavy click of the door handle made her stiffen. Anthony walked in. He stopped at the foot of the bed, his face like a mask of cold stone. Anna searched