Captive To The Mafia Lord のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

Jovan's POV"Borse e telefoni," the one with the knife repeated, more slowly this time, his eyes on me like I was the problem. I had very poor knowledge of the language but I could tell that they wanted our properties.I felt Lorenzo's hand leave my shoulder and he cracked his fingers. The boys seemed to be a bit scared. They did back away a bit but still had their knives out.“Does the devil reside in Oia or are the people here hellbent on dying by my hand?” Lorenzo said.The boys looked at one another then at Lorenzo. The bigger one stepped forward. Even though I was bigger than him.“Give your phone and bag now or we,” he ran his thumb from one side of his neck to the other.Now if they'd met me a year ago, I would have probably handed over my passport if it came to that but I'd been with Lorenzo long enough that even being held at gunpoint didn't make me break a sweat.Lorenzo pinched his forward in frustration. He couldn't really catch a break from miscreants. “Do I really have t

Sergei's POVThe warehouse smelled like rust and river water. I told that fool Rico to clean up but as usual he was always flouting my orders.I walked the perimeter slowly, hands behind my back. The chair was positioned under the single working light in the center of the room. The black canvas bag sat still over the head of the figure in it.She hadn't moved in twenty minutes.That was new. The Elena I'd known for fifteen years didn't sit still. She calculated, she negotiated, she filled every silence with something useful to herself. Stillness wasn't in her nature.Three days in this chair had apparently been educational.I stopped in front of her."Good morning," I said.Nothing."Or afternoon. Honestly I've lost track." I crouched down to eye level with the bag. "How are the ribs?"All she did was mumble something that was incoherent."Still tender," I said. "That's understandable. Three should heal cleanly. The fourth one—" I tilted my head. "The fourth one I'm less sure about."

Donatella's POVLondon didn't care who you were and that was the thing I loved the most about this place.You could be anyone or no one and the city moved around you regardless. Nobody here knew my name or my face or what I'd left behind. I was just the woman on the second floor who bought coffee from the corner place and forgot her umbrella every single time it rained.It was the most peaceful I'd been in years.The fabric shop was called Wren & Co.It smelled like cotton and old wood and the particular mustiness of bolts of material stacked floor to ceiling on shelves only Margaret fully understood. Margaret was seventy one, owned the shop, had opinions about everything, and had hired me three weeks after I arrived because I knew the difference between a French seam and a flat felled one."You moved the dupioni again," she said Tuesday morning without looking up from her catalogue."It was filed with the charmeuse, Margaret.""I know where I put things.""The dupioni was with the ch

Jovan's POVLena was a very weird and maybe not okay in the head type of woman but all in all I enjoyed her company.It felt good talking to someone else who wasn't Dante or Marcus, or anyone that was affiliated with Lorenzo.Well, she was in some type of way since she was working indirectly for him but yeah, you get what I mean.Lorenzo texted at five saying he would be home late.“Don't wait up. I'll be home late. Dante and I have something to do.” I replied fine which we both knew meant I'd be awake regardless. I wasn't going to sit watching the door so I opened my laptop and pulled up the committee notes from this afternoon instead.The new branch had been sitting on my desk for three months. Same four locations, same circular arguments, same two board members pushing for downtown Manhattan for reasons that had everything to do with where they personally owned property and nothing to do with sound banking strategy.I'd told the committee I'd have a decision by Friday.It was Wedn

Elena's POV"Ma'am would you like to order?" The waitress came up to me for the fifth time in the space of ten minutes."No." I replied coldly. "I'll let you know when I'm ready, for now just leave me alone."She retreated with the expression of someone adding this table to a mental list. I didn't care. I had bigger problems than a waitress's opinion of me.I checked my watch. Three minutes late.The door opened and Camille Arsenault came through it. She spotted me immediately, crossed the floor, and dropped into the seat across from me without being invited."You called me," she said without even trying to exchange greetings. "Who are you and how do you have my number?""Elena." I held out my hand.She looked at it and didn't take it. "How do you have my number?""I know a great many things about a great many people." I signalled the waitress finally. "It's a professional habit.""I don't want anything." She put both hands flat on the table. "I want to know what this is about.""Jova