All Chapters of Bound to the mafia : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The shrill sound of the alarm pierced through the warm silence of our cozy bedroom, making Winston groan softly beside me beneath the thick duvet. Still half asleep, he rubbed his face tiredly before throwing the covers aside and climbing out of bed completely naked, his messy blonde waves falling over his forehead as he dragged himself toward the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of running water echoed faintly behind the door. I stirred lazily, my black wavy hair scattered across the pillow as I blinked sleepily at the ceiling. Yawning softly, I stretched across the bed to grab my phone, but before I could unlock it, a notification suddenly lit up Winston’s phone on the bedside table. My sleepy eyes narrowed curiously. ‘What time are you coming to pick up the pizza today?’ The message was from someone saved as ‘Pizza Guy.’ Something about it felt odd. I frowned and raised my voice toward the bathroom. ‘Babe! Did you order pizza?’ ‘No!’. Winston replied almost im

Moments later, Peter and I walked side by side along the roadside pathway beneath the bright blue sky. I glanced sideways at him suspiciously. “So… what exactly did my mom whisper into your ear?” I asked curiously. Peter instantly smirked and shoved his hands into his pockets. “What? It’s a secret.” A faint blush crept onto his face, making me narrow my eyes even more. “Whatever she told you,” I said softly, “you know you don’t need to win my heart… you already have it.” His steps slowed down . “Really?” he asked quietly. “But I’m not your boyfriend.” “That’s because you’re my best friend.” I smiled at him. “You’ve known me longer than anybody else.” His expression softened for a second before becoming serious again. “Then you should trust me when I tell you someone isn’t good for you.” I lowered my gaze and tightened my fingers around my bag strap. “I know you never approved of Winston,” I admitted. “And this time… I think you might actually be right.” Peter

From the kitchen, the microwave stopped humming. There was a brief silence. Then footsteps slowly approached. Panicking, Peter and I quickly darted behind the couch again, barely catching our breath. Winston stepped back into the living room, his brows furrowed suspiciously as he looked around carefully. His eyes landed on the front door. Still locked. Slowly, he walked over and checked it before bolting it tightly. Then he turned on the living room lights. Bright light flooded the room instantly while I clutched Peter’s arm tightly behind the couch, terrified he would spot us. Winston scanned the entire room suspiciously for a few seconds, but everything looked completely normal. Eventually, he brushed the strange feeling off with a shrug before turning around and heading back toward the kitchen. “What’s with the shaky hands? He almost caught us,” Peter whispered anxiously. I pressed a trembling hand against my chest, struggling to steady my breathing. “I don’t know, P

Vindell’s POV I parked in the middle of a forest and stepped out of the back seat of my jeep. An eerie building stood in front of me and so I stepped inside, the sound of my shiny black leather shoes echoing softly against the cold concrete walls. I wore a perfectly tailored black suit beneath a long black coat, while my dark top hat shadowed half of my face, concealing my expression completely. In my gloved hand rested my shiny black metallic walking stick, which tapped lightly against the floor with every slow step I took. I climbed the flight of stairs and soon i entered a dimly lit room. The room reeked of sweat, and dried blood. Heavy chains dangled from the cracked ceiling, while rusted torture tools lay scattered across metal tables. At the center of the room sat a young man strapped to a bloodstained chair. Bruises, cuts, and purple welts covered his trembling body. His wrists were chained tightly to the armrests while a bucket of blood-tinged water reste

Vindell’s POV I came in carrying a thank-you bag filled with packaged peppery roasted snails, the strong aroma filling the room the moment I stepped inside. Immediately, I saw Mom shaking uncontrollably, clutching her heart. I threw the bag to the floor and ran toward her, holding her frantically. “Mom! Mom! Doctor, what’s wrong with her? She was fine when I left here,” I said, panicking. Doctor Rufus placed the stethoscope on her heart with a confused expression. I noticed him staring strangely at Mom, almost like he was trying to figure something out himself. “What is wrong with her?!” I screamed at him, the veins sticking out of my neck. Then suddenly, her body went limp, and she fell unconscious. Doctor Rufus took me aside, though I couldn’t help noticing him glancing back at Mom every few seconds. “Umm… Mr. Ashford… your mom… your mom…” he trailed off uncertainly, still looking back at the unconscious woman. “What is it?” I asked, clutching him, screaming desper