Owned By The Don: Dark Mafia Romance のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

*POV: Dominic Blackwood* The ceiling came down.Not all at once. Plaster first. Dust. Then a support beam. It hit the kitchen island and the marble cracked like a bone. Smoke filled the stairwell door. Black. Thick. I couldn’t see Antonio. Couldn’t see the guns. “Antonio,” I said. No answer. Gunfire answered for him. Three shots. From the stairwell. Leo’s men pushing in. I moved. Left. Toward the living room. Toward the windows. Toward twenty-two stories of air. The heat hit me first. Then the sound. Fire alarms screaming. Sprinklers dead. Leo cut them. Directive 9.2. _Vent the floor._ He wasn’t bluffing. I stayed low. The air was cleaner near the carpet. Barely. My shirt was soaked with blood and sweat. The stab wound from the alley pulled. The new ones from the stairwell burned. “Dominic Blackwood,” Leo’s voice said. From the ceiling speakers. Same ones he used on Aliyah. “I know you’re listening.” I kept moving. “You sent them down the fire escape,” Leo said. “Smart. I

*POV: Aliyah* The marble was cold.I pressed my hand against it anyway. Left palm. Scar from the trash chute still red. It helped me think. Pain did that. First Bank of Metro. Corner of 5th and King. 9:03am. Forty-seven hours since Blackwood Tower burned. Rosie sat next to me in the lobby. White. Lung graze from the street. Every breath cost her. But she wouldn’t stay in the car. “EMT ethics,” she’d said. “Don’t leave your patient.” I was her patient. The bank manager hadn’t stopped smiling. Mr. Keller. Silver hair. Tie pin shaped like a dollar sign. “Miss Rhodes,” he said. “Again, without the key, I cannot—” “Box 2147,” I said. “Arthur Blackwood. Deceased. I’m press. _Metro Ledger_. Intern, city desk. There’s a public interest exception for deceased estate records.” I slid my intern badge across the desk. Real. Lamination peeling. Keller didn’t touch it. “Bank policy, Miss Rhodes. Key or court order. Even for _Ledger_.” I knew. Professor Harris used First Bank in Corpora

*POV: Aliyah*Interrogation room 3 smelled like coffee and old paper.Detective Marx sat across from me. Fifties. Tired eyes. Notepad full. He’d told me his name two hours ago. Right after he read me my rights and I said I didn’t have a lawyer. Didn’t think I’d ever need one.“Run it again, Miss Rhodes.”I did. Fourth time.“He said ‘Should’ve let him bleed out.’ Then I recorded. Then the Ledger alert came. Then we went to vault. Box was empty. He got cuffed. Second man ran.”“USB,” Marx said. “You see one?”“No. Box was empty when Rosie opened it.”Marx tapped his pen. “Bank footage says different. 9:11am. Second man removes a device from 2147. Before you enter.”My stomach dropped.Leo emptied it. Then let us in.Bait.“Why?” I said.“You tell me. You and Rosie Blackwood are the ones Directive 9.2 is hunting.”Rosie. They knew her name.The door opened.Dominic Blackwood.Blood on his shirt. Face pale. Stitches at his hairline. But standing.Chair.My breath caught.Alive.Relief hi

POV: AliyahLeo pulled a phone. Hit play.Audio. Grainy. “Box 2147 at First Bank held the real Directive 9.2 files.” My voice, distorted. 6:00am call to Ledger.I flinched.“I send that to PD,” Leo said, “Miss Rhodes gets twenty years. Obstruction. Conspiracy. You called it in, Chair. You made her criminal.”Dominic didn’t look at me. “She dialed 911. That’s not a crime.”“No. But this is.” Leo nodded.Two men grabbed me.Dominic moved. Fast. Gun up. Shot one. The other slammed me into the floor. Knee on my back. Gun to my head.“Stop,” Leo said. “Or I paint the floor with your obsession.”Dominic froze.First time I saw Chair stop. Helpless.“Let her go,” he said. Voice low. Not command.Beg.Leo heard it. Grinned. “Say it. Say ‘please, brother.’”Silence. Rain. Rosie’s breathing.Dominic’s hand shook. Just once.“Please,” he said. “Brother.”Leo laughed. “God. Arthur would puke. Look at you. Human.” He kicked the man off me. “Up.”I stood. Knees shaking. Dominic’s eyes found mine. T

*POV: Vincent* Precinct. 5:14am. Statement room. Coffee cold. Marx across from me. “You shot him,” Marx said. “I aimed low.” “Why?” “Because Antonio was my son. He was Dom’s driver and bodyguard twelve years. Swore an oath. Protect the Chair with his life. He died tonight. Fire. Leo found me at the hospital. Played me a recording. Dom’s voice. ‘No witnesses.’ Said Antonio heard it and Dom left him to burn. Said if I wanted justice, get to the tower. Finish it. No one sent me. I walked in myself. Few hours ago.” Marx wrote that down. “USB has audio. Chair’s voice. ‘No witnesses.’” “Leo made it,” I said. “Had to be. Antonio told me stories for twelve years. Said Dom took hits for him. Covered for him. Said ‘he’s not like them.’ Chair doesn’t do that.” “Who is he?” I thought about 40th floor. Dom on his back with Rosie. Dom saying `please` to Leo. Dom going through glass and still saying `You’re mine to keep alive`. “Don’t know yet,” I said. “But he bled for Antonio. My boy di