All Chapters of SOLD TO THE RUTHLESS MAFIA LORD: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Dimitrio's Pov The war room was silent. I stood at the head of the table, surrounded by my top men, Matteo, Giovanni, and a handful of my most trusted soldiers. The map of the Zakhars' compound was spread out before us, marked with red lines and black X's. "Matteo," I said, pointing to the main entrance. "That's where their security is weakest. We infiltrate from the north, take out their guards quietly, and move in." Matteo studied the map. "What about their perimeter alarms?" "Disable them. I want three men on that alone." "You can't disable an entire perimeter without someone noticing, Don Dimitrio," Giovanni interjected. "They'll hear you coming." "They'll hear nothing if the job is done right." Giovanni opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off with a look. "The plan is solid. We move tonight." "Tonight?" Giovanni's face went pale. "That's." "Risky?" I raised an eyebrow. "Yes. War is risky. That's what makes it worth winning." Giovanni fell silent, but I could see

Nadia's Pov The room was small and bare, just like the others. A cot in the corner, a small chest at the foot of it, and a single window high up on the wall. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of mildew and fear. And there, sitting on the edge of the cot with her knees pulled up to her chest, was Serena Marino. She was even more pathetic up close. Her red hair was tangled, falling in messy waves around her pale face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, like she had been crying. She was wearing that ridiculous black slip dress they gave to all the slaves, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide the curves of her body. "So," I said, my voice dripping with disdain. "You're the red-haired whore everyone's talking about." “What—who are you?" "Nadia Giovanni," I said, stepping fully into the room. "My father is the don's advisor. And I am going to be his wife." Her face went pale. "His wife?" "Very soon." I circled her slowly, my eyes raking over her body. "I've been promised to him for y

Serena's Pov The first thing I felt was the silk. It was smooth against my skin, impossibly soft, nothing like the rough blankets I had been given in the slave quarters. I stirred, my eyes still closed, my body sinking into the plush mattress beneath me. Where was I? I blinked my eyes open, my vision blurry and unfocused. This wasn't my room. I sat up quickly, my heart pounding, and looked around. I was in Dimitrio's chamber. Then I noticed the chaos. The sounds of shouting, running feet, and car engines roaring to life filled the estate. I sat up in bed, my heart racing, my eyes darting around the room. What was happening? I scrambled to my feet and ran to the window. Outside, I could see dozens of men in black uniforms moving through the courtyard. They were armed, their faces grim, their movements urgent. And at the center of it all stood Dimitrio De Luca. He was dressed in combat gear, his face hard and unreadable. He was speaking to Matteo, his voice too low for me

Dimitrio's Pov The compound was burning. Flames licked at the sky, casting orange shadows over the carnage below. Bodies littered the ground Zakhar soldiers, every last one of them. My men moved through the wreckage, finishing off the wounded, securing the perimeter. I stood in the center of it all, my chest heaving, my hands slick with blood. We had won. The assault had been brutal from the start. We had infiltrated the compound at midnight, moving through the darkness like wraiths, taking out the perimeter guards with silent efficiency. But the Zakhars had been waiting for us. They had known we were coming. I had fought my way through the main building, cutting down anyone who stood in my path. My blade had tasted blood more times than I could count. My fists had connected with flesh and bone, breaking jaws, shattering ribs. I had felt the warm spray of blood on my face, the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles. And I had felt nothing. No pity. No remorse. Just col

Dimitrio's Pov Antonio. The name echoed in my head like a curse. I had killed him. I had watched him die—or so I thought. I had left him bleeding out in that alley, his body broken and battered, his eyes staring up at nothing. But he was alive. Antonio Esposito was alive. And he was coming for me. I turned back to Lucio, my hands shaking with rage. "Where is he? Where is Antonio?" "I told you—I don't know!" Lucio was sobbing now, his body trembling with fear. "He contacted me through intermediaries. I never met him face to face. I just—I just did what he asked." "What did he ask?" "He wanted you dead." Lucio's voice cracked. "He wanted you to suffer. He said you killed his brother. He said you took everything from him." "I took everything from him? I took everything from him?" I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He's the one who betrayed me. He's the one who tried to kill me. He's the one who—" I stopped. I couldn't say it. Couldn't admit it. But the truth was the