[BL] The Mafia Boss Wants My Body

Chapter 286: Chapter 286: A Promise Worth Fighting For

Reaching down boldly, Charles slid his hands beneath the waistband of Mark’s pajama trousers and tugged them down. Mark’s hard length sprang free, heavy and demanding.

The moment Charles wrapped his warm fingers securely around it, a loud, deep groan tore from the back of Mark’s throat.

But just as the tension in the room reached a breaking point, Charles’s phone suddenly began vibrating insistently on the nightstand, its loud buzz cutting sharply through the quiet air.

Mark reluctantly pulled back, reaching for Charles’s wandering hands. "Pretty, wait... check your phone," he murmured, his voice strained.

But Charles wasn’t giving him a chance to finish. Driven by desire, he pulled Mark right back into his arms, completely unwilling to let the moment slip away.

The phone, however, kept vibrating relentlessly, its persistent buzzing echoing through the room until it finally broke Mark’s concentration.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Mark lowered his forehead against Charles’s and whispered,

"Pretty, hold on for a second. I think you should check it. It might be something important."

Charles let out a frustrated sigh, his shoulders slumping as the mood in the room quickly faded.

"Okay," he muttered reluctantly, finally letting go of Mark.

He slid out from beneath him and reached for the phone on the nightstand. The moment he unlocked the screen, every trace of irritation disappeared from his face, replaced by a terrifying emptiness.

It was Owen again.

But this time, it wasn’t just another threatening message.

Owen had sent a meticulously detailed list containing his parents’ home address, their landline number, and the address of the company where his father worked.

Beneath it was a single message:

If you don’t come to me before the day ends, I won’t just send the video to Mark. I’ll send it directly to your parents. Let them see exactly what kind of dirty, slutty son they raised.

Charles’s blood ran cold.

"No..." he whispered, his voice shaking as his fingers tightened around the phone. "No... no..."

His entire body began to tremble.

"My parents can’t see this," he choked out, panic flooding his voice. "They can’t."

His entire body began to tremble. "My parents can’t see this," he choked out, panic flooding his voice. "They can’t."

Seeing the color drain from Charles’s face, Mark immediately climbed off the bed and hurried to his side, gently gripping his arms.

"Charles? What happened?"

With trembling hands, Charles held up the phone and thrust it toward Mark.

"Look... look at this," he stammered. "This can’t happen, Mark. My parents can’t see this video. They just can’t."

Mark quickly scanned the message, his expression hardening as a dangerous anger flickered across his face.

He looked back at Charles. "Do your parents know you’re gay?"

"They... they may have suspected it," Charles answered, struggling to steady his breathing. "But I’ve never actually told them. And they can’t find out like this, Mark. My parents are deeply religious."

His voice cracked.

"I don’t even know how to explain it... But this video is far too explicit. I can’t let them see something like that." His eyes filled with panic. "What am I going to do?"

"Hey," Mark said, his voice dropping into a firm, reassuring tone as he gripped Charles’s shoulders. "Calm down. I need you to stay strong for me right now. I’m not going to let that happen. I promise."

Charles swallowed hard, a tear slipping down his cheek.

"I’m trying to be strong, Mark. I’m trying."

Mark immediately pulled him into a tight, protective embrace, burying his face in Charles’s hair.

As he held him, his mind raced through every possible solution, a cold fury settling deep in his chest.

Why the hell is Owen doing this?

Why can’t he just let Charles go?

Why is he willing to hurt innocent people just to get what he wants?

Mark slowly closed his eyes.

Enough. This ends now.

He continued rubbing slow, comforting circles over Charles’s back, whispering quiet reassurances until Charles’s breathing gradually steadied.

Just as the room finally fell silent, Mark’s phone suddenly rang.

He glanced at the screen and immediately seized the opportunity.

"I have to take this," he said. "It’s an urgent business call."

Charles nodded. "Okay, babe."

Mark walked a few steps away and answered the call. He spoke for several minutes before finally ending it.

When he returned to Charles, he paused in front of him.

"Pretty..."

Charles looked up at him.

"I need to step out for a while," Mark said gently. "But I’ll be back as soon as I can."

Charles’s expression fell slightly, reluctant to be left alone. "If you’re leaving... I don’t really want to stay here by myself. I think I’ll go to Frank’s place."

Mark frowned slightly and glanced at the time. "Wouldn’t Frank already be at work?"

"Let me call him first."

Charles picked up his phone and dialed Frank’s number. After a few rings, Frank answered, but as expected, he was already at the office.

Charles ended the call with a quiet sigh.

"What about Adrian?" Mark suggested. "Could you go over to his place instead?"

Charles shook his head.

"Adrian isn’t home. We talked yesterday, and he told me he’d be going with Matteo to his therapy appointment this morning." He smiled reassuringly at Mark. "It’s okay. I’ll stay here for a while. I’ll just send Adrian a message and ask him to let me know when he gets back."

Mark nodded, though his protective instincts remained on high alert.

"Alright. The driver will take you wherever you want to go later, and I’m assigning one of the bodyguards to stay with you. Don’t go anywhere without him."

"Alright," Charles agreed softly.

Mark stood and got ready. He took a quick shower, but the hot water did nothing to ease the tension in his muscles. After changing into a sharp, tailored suit, he returned to the bedroom.

Walking over to the bed, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Charles’s lips.

"Call me the moment you need anything," he murmured. "I mean it."

Charles nodded.

Mark gently helped him settle back against the pillows before pulling the thick duvet up to his chest. He stayed for another moment, making sure Charles looked calm and comfortable, then finally turned and left the house.

Downstairs, the car was already idling in the driveway. Mark climbed into the back seat, his expression instantly hardening into a cold, unreadable mask. Tony was already seated in the front passenger seat, and as soon as Mark shut the door, the driver pulled away from the estate. A second SUV carrying several bodyguards followed closely behind.

As the gates closed behind them, Mark leaned forward, his voice dropping to a quiet, deadly calm.

"Tony. Find out exactly where Owen is right now. I want his precise location."

"On it," Tony replied, already opening his laptop and making a few quick phone calls as the convoy sped down the road.

Mark leaned back against his seat, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window as he silently waited for an answer.

A few minutes later, Tony turned around.

"I found him. Owen is still at his private residence."

Mark’s eyes darkened. "I don’t want to confront him at his house," he said. "Too many unnecessary complications. I want him in his office, or anywhere that isn’t his home."

Tony nodded. "Then we’ll need to be patient. Let’s finish your morning meetings first. By around noon, he should be heading to the corporate office."

Mark slowly exhaled, his jaw tightening.

"Good," he said. "Let’s meet the clients first."

"Alright," Tony replied, closing his laptop as the driver merged into the city traffic.

The rest of the morning passed at a relentless pace.

Mark threw himself into one meeting after another, using work to keep his anger under control. On the outside, he remained calm and composed, effortlessly negotiating with high-profile clients. Inside, however, his determination to confront Owen only grew stronger.

Shortly after noon, as the final client left the boardroom, Tony received a phone call. After a brief conversation, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned to Mark.

"Mark," he said quietly, "Owen is now at his office. He arrived about an hour ago."

Mark didn’t waste a second. He neatly closed the folder in front of him, gathered the remaining documents, and rose to his feet.

"Let’s go."

Moments later, he was seated in the waiting car.

The drive across the commercial district felt unusually long. The quiet hum of the engine did nothing to ease the cold determination etched across Mark’s face.

When they arrived at the towering glass headquarters of Owen’s company, Mark stepped out of the car and strode through the revolving doors with quiet purpose. Tony and one of the bodyguards followed closely behind.

They bypassed the main lobby and took the executive elevator straight to the penthouse floor. The doors slid open to a pristine, minimalist reception area. Two of Owen’s bodyguards stood outside the double mahogany doors leading to his office, while his secretary worked quietly behind the reception desk.

The moment Mark headed toward the office, the secretary immediately rose from her desk, her expression tense but professional.

"Sir! Excuse me, sir, you can’t go in there," she called, hurrying into his path. "Mr. Owen is preparing for a meeting. Do you have an appointment?"

Before Mark could answer, Owen’s bodyguards stepped forward, blocking the entrance. "No one sees Mr. Owen without an appointment," one of them said firmly.

Mark didn’t even slow his pace. His cold gaze swept over the two men.

"Move."

Neither bodyguard budged.

Tony and Mark’s bodyguard immediately stepped forward as well, positioning themselves beside Mark. For a brief moment, both sides stood facing each other, the atmosphere growing heavier by the second.

"Sir, please," the secretary said nervously. "If you don’t stop, I’ll have to call building security."

She reached for the desk phone.

At that exact moment, the intercom buzzed sharply.

Owen’s calm, arrogant voice echoed through the reception area.

"What’s going on out there?"