Owned By The Mafia King

“You are under arrest, Damian Sinclair." My voice didn't shake, even though my heart was beating so hard it felt like it would jump out of my chest. I held the cold metal handcuffs tightly in my hand, the steel biting into my palm. Under the flashing strobe lights of the VIP room, the city’s richest and most dangerous Mafia Prince slowly turned around to look at me with a wicked smirk playing on his lips. I was standing inside ‘The Obsidian Room’, the most expensive and exclusive nightclub in the city. Just seconds ago, Damian Sinclair and his top lieutenants had been sitting around a mahogany table littered with crystal glasses of liquor and stacks of high-end business contracts. Just outside the private room, the bass of the music was thumping loudly as people were dancing, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside. My heavy police boots looked totally out of place against the polished marble floor. I felt exposed, but I refused to show it. Outside the club, news reporters and cameras were already swarming, waiting to see the famous billionaire get dragged out for a massive money laundering scandal. With a lazy wave of Damian's hand, all the dangerous men sitting around him slowly stood up. They made their way out of the room, each of them giving me a condescending look as they passed. But I barely noticed them as my eyes were locked on him. Once the door clicked shut, leaving us completely alone, the air in the room grew suffocatingly thick and Damian stood up. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and moved with the terrifying elegance of a predator. He took a few steps closer, stopping right in front of me. The dim lights of the room caught the sharp angle of his jawline and those piercing dark eyes I used to know so well. The sheer size of him was intimidating, but I forced my chin up. Up close, the expensive scent of his woodsy cologne hit me, and my breath hitched. It was the same scent he used to wear seven years ago, back when he was just the boy who held me in the dark, long before his father dragged him deep into the underworld and turned him into a monster. “Long time no see, Officer,” he murmured. His deep, smooth voice sent a shiver straight down my spine. “Though it breaks my heart that we have to meet again like this.” He said with a sadistic smile. The ghost of our past felt like a physical weight pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe. He was mocking me. Forcing all the old, aching memories down into the dark, I raised the handcuffs between us. “You're under arrest, Damian,” I repeated, my tone much firmer this time, cutting through the thick tension. "Hands behind your back.” He didn't move an inch. Instead, Damian let out a low chuckle that vibrated through the small space between us. He didn't look like a man facing twenty years in prison, he looked like a king amused by a peasant. "Still as stubborn as the day you betrayed me," he murmured, his eyes dropping to my lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto my gaze. "Tell me, Morgan... does your captain know that the detective leading this raid used to scream my name in the back of my car? Or did you conveniently leave that part out of your police report?" His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the air straight out of my lungs. Images I had spent seven years trying to drown flooded my mind again. The heat of his skin, the leather seats of his car, the whispered promises he used to murmur against my collarbone. My cheeks burned with a mix of anger and humiliation. "That was a lifetime ago, Damian. You're a criminal now, and I'm the one taking you down." "Are you?" He took one final step, completely erasing the distance between us. He lowered his head, his voice dropping to a dark whisper that brushed against my ear. "Then put the cuffs on me, sweetheart. Let's see who really ends up in chains by the end of the night." My hands trembled slightly as I cuffed his wrists behind his back. The metal clicked into place, locking him in steel. Even hand-cuffed, Damian didn't fight me. He still had that condescending smirk on his face. "Step forward," I commanded, gripping his arm to lead him out. The moment I pushed past the heavy velvet curtains into the main club, the chaotic music and flashing strobe lights hit us. The crowd gasped, people stopping mid-dance as they realized the untouchable Damian Sinclair was actually being led out in handcuffs by a female detective. My heart hammered against my ribs as my backup officers finally joined us, forming a protective wall around us as we walked toward the exit doors. We stepped out into the cool night air, and the world completely erupted. Flashing lights from hundreds of cameras blinded me. Microphones were shoved into my face as news reporters screamed out questions. "Officer, is it true the Sinclair empire is falling?" "Mr. Sinclair, do you have a statement on the laundering charges?" Damian kept his head high, an arrogant smile on his face as the cameras captured every angle of his sharp jawline. Before the officers pushed him into the back of the police transport van, Damian stopped. He turned his head slowly, looking back over his shoulder straight at me through the sea of flashing cameras. Those piercing dark eyes locked onto mine, sending one last shiver straight to my soul. The doors of the police van slammed shut, and the tires screeched as they drove him away to the precinct. I took a deep breath, looking down at my badge. I had finally done it. I had arrested the city's biggest criminal and face-to-face confronted my past. But as the flashing media lights began to fade, a heavy, sinking feeling settled deep in my stomach. It was too easy and Damian Sinclair didn't get caught this easily. I had no idea that back at the police precinct, a trap was already waiting for me and by tomorrow morning, my badge would be gone, and my nightmare would truly begin.