บททั้งหมดของ Claimed By The Don: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 38

A voice I would recognize anywhere. “Hello, little brother.” My heart stopped. I lifted my head slowly, forcing my blurry eyes to focus. And there he was. Nico. Standing in the doorway like a ghost from my past. For a moment, my brain refused to accept what my eyes were seeing. He looked exactly the same—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark tailored suit that looked absurdly expensive for a place like this. His hair was neatly combed back, his expression calm… almost amused. But his eyes. Those cold, calculating eyes were the same ones I remembered from childhood. The same eyes that used to watch me like a predator studying prey. Finally. He showed his wicked face. I knew it was him all along. The weeks of silence. The fake peace. The pretending that everything between us was fine. I should have known. I should have seen through it. Nico stepped slowly into the room, his polished shoes echoing against the concrete floor. Two of his men followed behind him, both ar

“What?” Marco asked. “We’ve had routine checkpoints for five days now,” Ray said over the phone, his voice calm but alert. “And yesterday and today, a man that matches the description you just gave me was seen twice.” Marco straightened slightly in his chair. “You’re certain it was him?” “As certain as I can be without pulling him out of the vehicle,” Ray replied. “Same build, same face, same cold expression. Tall guy, dark hair. Hard to miss. He was sitting in the back of a taxi both times.” Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Both times? You mean he passed two different checkpoints?” “Exactly,” Ray said. “First sighting was yesterday evening on the eastern bypass heading out of Manhattan. The second time was earlier today near the old industrial route by the docks.” Marco straightened. “You’re sure?” “Yes.” My pulse quickened. “Was he driving?” Marco asked. “No.” “Passenger?” “Yes.” “In what vehicle?” “A yellow city taxi.” Marco looked at me. Hope

I managed to lift my head from his shoulder and saw one of the guards rushing toward us. He was trying to reach his weapon. But the masked man was faster.Before I could even process what was happening, he carried me into the tunnel. He turned quickly and pressed a button on the wall.With a heavy metallic clang, the tunnel door began to close.The guard rushed forward, desperately trying to reach us, before he could point his gun towards us, he was already too late.The door slammed shut right in his face. And I could hear him scream out in frustration. And I understood what that shout meant… … He’s a dead man. And just like that, we disappeared into the darkness. I couldn’t see a thing. He carried me through the dark narrow passage, his footsteps echoing against the walls.I didn’t know where we were going.I didn’t know who he was.All I knew was that I was leaving Hell’s Gate.And somehow, that terrified me almost as much as staying.We emerged into the open air on the far sid

ALESSANDROThe SUV didn’t stop for a long time.I drifted in and out, ribs screaming every time we hit a pothole, the masked man’s shoulder a hard, silent wall beside me. I tried to keep track of turns. Left, left, right, a long straightaway. After the fourth turn, the pain took whatever was left of my focus, and I stopped trying to memorize anything at all. It didn’t matter. Even if I remembered every street, every light, I doubted I’d survive trying to run from wherever we were headed.I didn’t ask where we were going. I didn’t have the strength to argue if he refused to answer, and something in the way he sat, still, watchful, unreadable even behind the mask, told me he would refuse.Time stopped meaning anything. I measured the drive in breaths instead of minutes, each one shallow, careful, my ribs protesting every small movement of the vehicle beneath us. At some point I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, gravel crunched under the tires and the world had gone qu