Owned M Never Novels & Stories

linked furiously like one under the sun at the paper. The letters squirmed like a snake as I stared at them. 100 MILLION DOLLARS. I couldn’t believe what my eyes were seeing. How could my grandpa owe them, this huge amount of money? I looked at them. They were all in black. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that they were the mafia. This must be a mistake. It wasn’t possible. I wasn’t going to believe anything they had said.

They weren’t wrong. But what they didn’t know is this — not every Italian man came from old money, or that kind of legacy. No, the real ruthlessness, the real fear, the real power... Came from one line. It belonged to one family. One legacy. The men of La Mano Nera. The black hand. That name alone made people disappear into silence. Because the men who wore that mark didn’t just rule with money — they ruled with blood, fear, and a code older than loyalty.

I told myself again and again that it had not been devotion. It had been ownership. The castle, indifferent as ever, carried on in its well-worn rhythm. Floors were scrubbed until they gleamed, silver polished until it reflected faces none of us fully recognized anymore. Whispers drifted through corridors like drafts beneath closed doors, carrying fragments of speculation that never quite reached the truth. Life moved forward as though hearts were not quietly entangled in matters that could ruin us all.

I stared at them, half-expecting a butler to swing them open and announce, Welcome to Logan Manor, Mistress Isabella. Instead, Logan parked the car and turned to me, clearly enjoying my reaction. “What do you think?” “I think you’ve been holding out on me,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. “This is insane. It’s like something out of a movie.” He grinned. “It belongs to my mother, actually. My grandfather left it to her in his will. But she lives in France now, so she lets me use it whenever I want. Let’s go inside; I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Now they no longer looked down on Emily because the truth was that Emily was not an omega. The end.

“Mikey?” “Yeah,” he said. “Mikey Two-Times.” I shook my head. “Of course. That shaky little bastard. Always looked like he was about to piss himself.” Tony smirked a little. “Still does. But he gave us something.” Petrov stepped forward, arms crossed. “Warehouse in the Bronx. He says Marcel’s had food and appliances moving in and out of there for weeks now. Regular shipments. Quiet. Off the books.” I rubbed my jaw, thinking. “Food and appliances.”

Not ever. ---

Luciana POV I roamed across the halls of the mansion and it was all empty. In a blink of an eye, everybody gone. Renee and Salma, Theodore and Aria, Mother Esma and even Pancho, he moved out a month ago to his own house. This is all because of Noni, she is even more Vile than I thought. How could she do this to us? She always claimed we were a family, yet she single-handedly destroyed us by herself.

The GM had sent a formal email requesting an emergency meeting with the league’s conduct committee. A sharp knock on his door made him flinch, he already knew who it was. Soren opened the door to find JR standing there in a black hoodie and cap pulled low, gray eyes stormy with barely contained fury. “I came as soon as I saw,” JR said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The moment the door closed, he pulled Soren into a crushing hug. “You okay?” “No,” Soren muttered against his shoulder. “This is a fucking nightmare.”