Lahat ng Kabanata ng bound to the ruthless mafia king: Kabanata 81 - Kabanata 90

Isabellas POV The morning light filtering through the heavy drapes did nothing to warm the room. I woke up with the familiar, suffocating weight pressing down on my chest, a knot of pure guilt tightening in my stomach before I even opened my eyes. My hand moved instinctively beneath the pillow, my fingers brushing the cold plastic of the burner phone Enzo had slipped into my hand the night before. I pulled it out, keeping my movements silent, and looked at the screen. A single text was waiting. A scheduled morning check-in. Just a few simple words asking if I was alright. I stared at the glowing text, my mind racing back to the shadows of that alleyway. The heat of the conversation, the quiet desperation in Enzo's voice, and then the kiss. It had felt like an escape velocity from the prison my life had become, a brief, chaotic moment where I felt completely even with Luca for every lie he had ever told me, every piece of my life he had torn away. But now, in the sterile luxury of

Lucas pov The war room was thick with the smell of stale coffee and cheap bourbon. My men were huddled over the table, pointing at maps and marking the spots where Enzo was hiding. We were close to catching him, but my mind was not on the mission. It was on Isabella. Every time I looked at the map, I just wondered if she was safe in her room. I needed to see her. I needed to know she was still there. I stood up and walked down the quiet hallway. My heart felt heavy. I opened her door, expecting to see her sitting on the bed. But the room was empty. The bed was perfectly made, and the room felt cold. I checked the closet, but her favorite coat was gone. My stomach dropped. I felt a wave of panic that I had never felt before. I ran to the security room and grabbed the guard by the arm. I tried to keep my voice steady, but the fear was taking over. "Where is she?" I asked him. The guard looked at me, his eyes wide. "Where is my wife?" I repeated. "S.... she left an hour ago,

The air in the warehouse office was heavy with the smell of damp concrete and motor oil. I woke up before the sun, my heart hammering against my ribs as I realized where I was. For a second, I felt a flash of panic, expecting to see the high, arched ceilings of the estate and hear the cold, measured tone of Luca’s voice. Then, I saw the crates, the flickering work lamp, and Enzo sitting by the window, his eyes fixed on the empty street outside. Everything came flooding back. The walk to the main gate, the way the guards hadn't even hesitated to open it because they still saw me as the wife of their King, and the quiet, nervous taxi ride into the heart of the industrial district. I sat up, the thin blanket sliding off my shoulders. I had chosen this. I had finally stepped out of the cage. "You're awake," Enzo said, his voice barely a whisper. He turned from the window, his face soft in the dim light. "We have an hour before the shift change at the checkpoints. If we’re going, it h

Isabellas pov The first thing I felt was the throbbing, rhythmic pulse of agony in my head, a sharp reminder of the crash. I tried to lift my hands to my face, but my arms didn't move. A rough, biting sensation scraped against my wrists. I blinked, and the world slowly sharpened into focus. I was in a room that smelled of damp mold and old oil, the walls nothing but cold, sweating concrete. I was tied to a wooden chair, my ankles lashed to the legs, my hands pulled tight behind my back. Panic, cold and sharp, flooded my veins. "Enzo?" I croaked. My voice sounded like shattered glass. "Enzo, are you here?" The door groaned open, and a man stepped in. He wasn't one of Luca’s clean-cut guards; he was rough, his face scarred, and his clothes dirty. He didn't look like he belonged to the Moretti empire. "Where is he?" I demanded, straining against the ropes. "Where is Enzo? Is he hurt? Please tell me." The man didn't say a word. He just smirked, a cruel, mocking expression th

"Ten seconds, Isabella." Luca's voice was soft, he didn't move. His eyes were dark with a cold, controlled fury that made the room feel even smaller. “Ten seconds,” he said. “You have ten seconds to convince me not to kill him right now, Isabella. Choose your words carefully.” I couldn't breathe. The pressure crushed down on me like a physical weight. My wrists were burning where the ropes dug in. My ankles too. I'd stopped feeling my fingers a while ago, but none of that mattered because Luca was raising the gun and his eyes were empty and I had ten seconds. "Luca." My voice came out broken. I leaned forward desperately. "Please." "Nine." "He used me." The words tore out of my throat. "He lied to me. He told me, he said you were keeping me against my will, that I was in danger, and I was tired, Luca. I was so exhausted and I just wanted to go home and he knew that. He knew exactly what to say." "Eight." "I was a fool." Tears burned down my face. "I trusted him and he used me a