All Chapters of Dark Possession: Bound To The Mafia Don: Chapter 471 - Chapter 480

824 Chapters

Red Hot Anger

Fernando’s POV The silence in my room was suffocating. Not the usual calm kind of silence, the kind that gave me control over my thoughts, but the type that crawled under your skin and demanded you break something. I had been pacing for most of the last hour, my hands locked behind my back, my jaw tight enough to split stone. The ticking of the antique clock was louder than usual, each second mocking me for not taking action. Dominique should have been back by now. He wasn’t the type to delay unless something, or someone, had interfered. My mind kept circling back to Michael no matter how hard I tried to stop myself and focus on something else that wouldn't make me angry as well as make me feel like shit and the same time. I exhaled sharply and sat down on the bed, running my hand over my hair. He had been distant for days, quieter than usual, avoiding my touch as if my skin burned him. I didn’t want this to be my life. A man with my kind of money didn't deserve to be in this

Thunderclouds

Michael’s POV The storm outside was nothing compared to the one inside me. I stood in the doorway and kept my gaze on Fernando as he looked at me as if I were a ghost. He didn’t answer, he didn’t even try, and that silence told me everything. “You can’t even deny it,” I whispered, my voice raw. “You can’t even look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong.” He took a slow step forward. “Michael, it’s not what you think.” I laughed. “It’s exactly what I think. You and Dominique.” His jaw tightened. “He means nothing—” “Don't you dare talk to me like I'm some stupid child” I snapped, cutting him off. We both went still. He stepped closer, his voice lower now. “I know what you think of me, Michael, but I’ve done everything to keep you safe. You don’t understand what it means to live in my world but Dominique does. That’s why I trust him.” That name again. I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. “So that’s it, then. He understands you, and I don’t. Is t

The Attempted Breakup

Marlo’s POV The sound of shouting echoed down the hallway. Even before I reached the door to Fernando’s suite, I could hear his voice, sharp, commanding and furious. Michael’s voice was also audible and he wasn’t backing down. I frowned and pushed through the small crowd of guards gathered at the doorway. Their posture was tense, shoulders squared, eyes darting nervously toward the man inside. When I stepped through, the air felt heavy, like the very walls were holding their breath. Fernando stood near the window, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitch in his cheek. Michael was standing several paces away, a duffel bag half-zipped at his feet, his face pale but his eyes blazing with fury. “What the hell is going on?” I demanded quietly, moving past the guards. Michael finally turned to me, his voice low but shaking with anger. “Tell me something, Marlo. Did you know Fernando has been having an affair with Dominique?

The Raging Storm

Fernando’s POV I slammed the door behind me so hard that the frame shuddered. The sound echoed through my study like the crack of thunder. My heart was still hammering against my ribs and I could taste the fury on my tongue. Michael’s voice still rang in my head and I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing the study like a caged animal. I had sworn I would never let Michael see that side of me again but he had found the trigger. He had found the one thing that could tear through all my self-control. “Damn it,” I hissed under my breath, snatching the crystal decanter from my desk. I poured a glass of whiskey, not caring that half of it spilled onto the papers I had been signing earlier. I drank it all in one gulp. Michael had looked at me as if he didn’t recognize me anymore, as if he was finally staring into the eyes of the monster he knew no longer had a soul. I slammed the empty glass onto the desk, the sharp crack echoing through the room. The whiskey stain spread acr

The Price of Truth

Marlo’s POV As I walked hurriedly down the hall and turned the corner, I saw Anabelle standing in the wide hallway under the chandelier’s dim light. She was talking to the guards, her voice soft but filled with worry. “What’s going on? Why does Don Fernando want to see me at this hour?” The guards stood stiffly. “Stop,” I called out as I approached. “I’ll take it from here.” The guards exchanged uncertain looks. One of them shifted slightly. “But the boss said—” “I said I’ll handle it.” My tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. After a tense pause, they stepped back. I nodded toward the opposite hallway. “Wait there until I call for you.” They obeyed, though reluctantly. Anabelle’s gaze met mine immediately. “Marlo, what’s happening?” She stepped closer, her voice trembling. “Did I do something wrong?” I swallowed hard, forcing calm into my tone. “You need to come with me, but first tell me the truth.” Her brows furrowed. “About what?” “Did you tell Mic

The Devil's Mercy

Fernando’s POVThe silence that followed was heavy enough to crush air. No one moved, not even me.My finger still hovered over the trigger, the gun steady in my hand, aimed straight at Anabelle’s forehead. Her sobs had quieted into shallow, trembling breaths, the kind that clawed their way out of a person’s throat when fear had already stolen their voice.“Fernando,” Marlo said finally, his voice low but steady, “put the gun down.”I didn’t.“Do you think I’m stupid, Marlo?” I said slowly. “Do you think I don’t see what’s happening here?”He took a careful breath. “I think you’re angry and you have every right to be, but please think about this.”Anabelle was still on the floor, her hands trembling as she wiped at her tears.“You said you didn’t tell him,” I said finally, my voice breaking the tension like a blade. “But Michael sounded very sure. So how do you explain that, Anabelle?”She swallowed hard, her voice shaking. “I told you already, I didn’t tell him directly. He asked

A Cage of My Own Making

Fernando’s POVThe study was quiet again, too quiet.I swirled the glass between my fingers and leaned back in the chair, the leather creaking under my weight. I set the glass down too harshly; it cracked against the desk, but didn’t break. I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled, staring at the unopened folder on my desk, but none of it mattered tonight. Not when the man upstairs, the one I claimed as mine, could barely look at me.I told myself I would go back to my room soon to face him.“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath and grabbed the whiskey bottle again.I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore. To stay here and drown in liquor, or walk up those stairs and face the mess I had created.If I went back to him now, what would I even say? "Sorry for threatening to kill your loved ones, darling? I didn’t mean it, I was just scared you’d leave me?"Pathetic. I was supposed to be in control, and yet every time he looked at me with those eyes, all my defenses crumbled.A so

On the Devil's Table

Michael’s POVThe morning light spilled across the long mahogany table, washing the dining hall in shades of gold and silence.Silence seemed to be the only language Fernando and I understood these days.The clatter of silverware echoed faintly as servants set the last of the dishes before returning, their heads bowed. Fernando sat across from me, the picture of composure with his dark suit, perfectly pressed shirt, not a hair out of place.I stared at the food in front of me and felt nothing but nausea. My stomach twisted at the thought of swallowing anything. I pushed the fork across the plate, tracing meaningless lines through the scrambled eggs.“Eat,” he said finally, his tone calm, almost detached. He didn’t look up from his plate. “You’ve barely touched your food.”I didn’t respond, my throat was too tight. I kept my gaze fixed on the fork in my hand.“Michael.” His voice was firmer this time.Still, I said nothing.He sighed quietly and set down his fork, folding his hands o

The Cage Tightens

Michael’s POVThe echo of Fernando’s footsteps trailed behind him as he walked toward the door. For a fleeting second, I thought he might just leave without another word or command, another reminder that I was still his prisoner in this gilded cage. But of course, Fernando was never one to leave things unsaid.He paused near the doorway, turning back with that same calm, unshakable poise that both fascinated and sickened me.“Mortis. Emilio.” His voice was low, but it carried across the dining hall like a blade.They stepped forward from the corner of the room. I hadn’t even realized they were there. “Watch him,” Fernando said simply. “Every movement and every word. He doesn’t leave the estate unless I say so.”“Yes, boss,” Mortis replied, his tone clipped and professional.My stomach turned. “Are you serious?”Fernando’s gaze shifted to me. “You’ve made it clear I can’t trust you.”“Because I don’t want to marry you?” I snapped.He didn’t answer. Instead, he took a few slow steps

The Art of Pretending

Michael’s POVWhen I had reached her, Chloe flipped through the folder in her hands.“I brought updated design boards, color palettes, and a few floral arrangements to choose from. Since the date has been changed to next week Saturday, we’ll need to confirm everything today.”“That bastard” I said, mostly to myself. “Of course.”“Would you prefer to start here or in the study? There’s more space there for the samples" Chloe asked.“The study,” came a deep voice from behind her.Chloe flinched slightly, spinning around to see Fernando standing in the doorway.He smiled faintly, though his eyes didn’t soften. “I trust everything’s on schedule?”Chloe nodded briskly. “Of course, sir. I’ve brought the revised plans and—”“Good,” he cut in smoothly. His gaze drifted to me. “Michael, join us.”It wasn’t a request, It never was.I followed them into the study with the resignation of a prisoner.Elena set her folder on the desk and began arranging color choices and design sketches. “We’ll

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