Owned By Him Novels & Stories

“What are they about?” He’s thrown, but again, only for a second. “That one? Mostly about how once an individual claims to own his territory within pack lands, everything goes to hell.” “So you don’t own this place?” “I stay here,” he says. “But it’s your den.” “No, it isn’t.” I sniff to check, but no, I’m right—it smells like him and no one else. “Whose is it then?” “Yours.” He flashes another slight smile.

He was rich beyound the house and diamonds he bought her, beyound the company, beyond her imagination. Nat laughed, a laugh of a contented, affluent man. “Well…I’m rich cause I have you in my life,” he said, reaching out to interlock his fingers with hers. Zara looked flattered and pleased. “You keep saying your toy, so causally.” “Yeah…this was once my,”—he held his hands in quotes—‘private jet’—“but I got others and they collectively became my toys, expensive toys,” He shined his teeth. “There’s the Boeing and the Bombardier”.

I wanted her to know that no matter how much money was in those accounts or how many buildings I owned, she was the only thing I truly possessed. I pushed the rest of the papers aside, creating a space for her. I entered her in one slow, deep motion, watching her face as she took all of me. She let out a soft cry, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "You're mine, Elena," I said, my voice low and raspy. "In the house, in the city, on this desk. Everywhere."

I forced a small nod, my throat too dry to speak. “Good,” he murmured. He stepped closer until his chest brushed my back, his breath hot against my neck. “Because it’s yours.” My head snapped toward him. “Mine?” “Of course,” he said softly. “Everything I own, Piccola, will be yours now.” He reached up and brushed his fingers over my shoulder, his touch gentle but a bit possessive. I could feel the heat of him, the steadiness of his heartbeat through his chest pressed to my back.

“That’s insane. I’m a person, not some piece of property. My life is mine, not some hand-me-down you can grab whenever you’re bored. You’re completely delusional if you think I’m just gonna roll over and accept this.” He didn’t get angry. Instead he looked at me like I was a puzzle he was actually enjoying figuring out. “Ownership is just a word people use for something that’s irrevocably theirs,” he said, his eyes flashing with that dangerous crimson light. “And you are mine, Andrea. Perfectly intact and fully aware of exactly who you answer to now.” He leaned in until his forehead rested against mine. The contact sent an electric jolt through me, it was so strong that my vision blurred for

“What do you mean that I own it?” Alex straightened his posture and met my gaze with a calm steady stare. “You heard me. Everything Liam has been showing off belongs to you. Everything: the cars, the estate.” For an extended period I simply gazed at him my mind racing unable to comprehend the gravity of what he had just said. I own it but how? How could I possibly own everything that Liam had been flaunting? It was nonsensical. It was illogical. Alex's eyes however never left mine as though he were speaking the truth to me without a shadow of doubt. My throat was dry as I swallowed forcefully. “But…how do I actually own it? How is that possible?”

I said out loud. "What do you mean 'dealing place'?" I questioned as he chuckled "Well they are in the mafia sweetheart so they need some place they can own which they already do. So anyway, they also wanted this one." He said and rubbed his forehead. "but it's yours." I said in confusion as he laughed. "you don't know them Sophie they own the whole damn country," he snapped as I stood up. "I promise I'll get it back." I said as he scoffed and muttered a low 'good luck'.

"What are you thirsty for, then? I rolled my eyes while grinning. It was so obvious in his mischievous look that he already knew. He just wants to play with me. And goddamn it, God knows how much I love to play with him in every way I could. He kissed the corner of my lips while I'm laughing. He then climbed his way to the stairs and the next thing I knew, we are already on his room. Our room, I mean. He told me, I remember, that whatever he owns, I own it too. And that I also own him. I don't want him to refer it that way actually. I told him he's a man of his own, that nobody owns him not even his wife, but he insisted that he is letting me own him, every piece of him.

“Seriously, what the hell is that sound? And what's game over?” “Victory,” I said simply, dark amusement glinting in my eyes. “That’s what it sounds like when the tables turn.” Elena stood up straighter. “What is it?” “We have to hand you over,” I said, eyes locked on her. “Back to your rightful owner.” “No one owns me!” she snapped, her voice sharp and defiant. I didn’t argue. I just smiled because it was funny how she still believed that mattered. “She’s going nowhere!” Raven and Freya barked in unison, like it was rehearsed.

He took out his phone and shoved it at me. “I make money and you spend it recklessly. We are fucking broke and my head will roll in the desert if I don’t act fast,” he said with pain etched in his voice. My hands shook as I held the phone which displayed the Lamborghini I had just bought. The fucking internet. “Papa, what happened here?” I sniffed, my eyes drifting from the shattered vases to the blood stains on the floors and walls. “We were attacked by Don Vittorio Caruso, “ he replied, he paced to and fro the large living room with his hands digging into his silver hair as he thought of what to do next.