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CHAPTER 46
Last Updated:
2025-06-13 18:54:29
Latest chapter
Bound By The Don's Bloody Bargain CHAPTER 53
Olivia — POV My legs were moving before my heart agreed to it. The hallway outside Luciano’s study was long, shadowed, and cold, and every step I took felt like I was walking into a trap I hadn’t asked to be part of. The walls pulsed with silence, broken only by the soft thud of my bare feet on the marble floor. I shouldn’t have said I’d go. God, what was I thinking? Luciano’s father was a monster. Not the kind in bedtime stories. The real kind—the kind that built empires from blood and looked his own son in the eyes while threatening to destroy him. And now he wanted me. “Stop walking like you’re being led to a firing squad,” came Luciano’s voice behind me. I froze. He caught up to me in two strides and gently took my hand. His fingers were warm. Steady. I wasn’t. “You don’t have to prove anything,” he murmured, eyes scanning my face. “Especially not to him.” I swallowed hard. “It’s not about proving anything. I just…” I trailed off, struggling for the words. “I can’t le
Bound By The Don's Bloody Bargain CHAPTER 52
Luciano — POV The wind outside had teeth. Storm clouds smothered the horizon as if the sky itself knew what kind of man was coming through those gates. I stood at the top of the stairs like a soldier waiting for war, Olivia beside me, her hand laced in mine even though I hadn’t asked her to stay. I should’ve told her to go. I should’ve lied, distracted her, sedated her if I had to. But here she was. And when I looked at her—chin up, eyes steel—I didn’t see weakness. I saw fire. The iron gates screeched open below, cutting through the silence like a blade. Three black Bentleys rolled in, tires crunching over gravel like bones under boots. My heart? Still. My jaw? Locked. My Glock? Strapped under the tailored jacket. "Don’t speak unless I do," I murmured to Olivia. "And whatever you do—don’t look scared." She snorted. "Please. I’ve seen scarier men trying to flirt with me in elevators." Jesus Christ, her mouth. And yet it grounded me. The car doors opened in unison. Men
Bound By The Don's Bloody Bargain CHAPTER 51
Luciano – POVThe warehouse stank of sawdust, gun oil, and damp leather—a cocktail of decay and power that clung to the air like a threat. My boots scraped against the concrete floor as I tore through the shipment logs, tossing paper after paper across the cluttered desk.Where the hell was that slip?"Goddammit," I muttered, slamming the drawer shut with a growl, rattling the old mahogany desk.I didn't have time for this. Not with the shipment from Marseille missing half its load and the Cavazza rats getting bolder by the hour. My fingers curled around the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white.And then—Ring.The shrill, soul-slicing ring of my phone shattered the brittle silence. Like a bullet to a glass window, clean and violent.Marco, who'd been standing like a goddamn statue by the filing cabinet, jumped like he'd been electrocuted."I'm sorry—boss—" he stammered, phone already out, screen glowing."Unless South Port is burning to ash, don’t—" I growled, turning, face like
Bound By The Don's Bloody Bargain CHAPTER 50
Matteo's POV The first crack of thunder didn’t come from the sky. It came from the explosion at Dock Nine. I was already in the car when the blast lit up the early morning like a match striking hell. The windows shook, the tires skidded, and Andrew cursed under his breath as the echo rolled across South Port. "Was that ours?" he asked, hand already on the Glock at his hip. "No," I muttered, jaw clenched. "It was theirs." The Cavazza family. I should've seen it coming. The warning signs were all there—skipped meetings, delayed shipments, too many eyes watching from corners that weren’t theirs. And now this? They didn’t just light a fuse; they declared war. I looked out the tinted window as we turned onto Mill Row, the back route to the docks. Smoke plumed high in the sky, thick and black, like the city itself was bleeding. Andrew pressed his earpiece. "Get the others in formation. Lock down the perimeter. No one leaves, no one talks unless they want their tongue on the concret
Bound By The Don's Bloody Bargain CHAPTER 49
Olivia povHe kicked open the side door to his office, slammed it behind us, and pinned me against the wall—not with force, but with presence. His palm braced beside my head. I could feel the heat of him, the way his chest rose and fell like a man barely containing himself.“If you don’t want the baby,” he said, voice dangerously low, “fine. But don’t lie to me about what we are.”“What are we?” I whispered.His eyes burned into mine. “A disaster.”And then he kissed me.Hard. Desperate. Like war and love and fear all tangled up in one breathless act of defiance. I didn’t push him away. Couldn’t. My body betrayed my mouth, kissed him back like he was oxygen and I was suffocating.But when we broke apart, I put a hand on his chest and shoved gently. “This changes nothing.”“I know,” he said, breathless. “But something has to change.”I turned away, straightened my nighty, and tossed my hair over my shoulder. “I’ll think about the baby. But don’t expect me to sit around knitting booties
Bound By The Don's Bloody Bargain Chapter 48
Olivia POVI wasn't strategic enough. Now I’m pregnant.Stupid girl.Smart mouth, dumb choices.The bright sunlight pierced through the dusty blinds like it had something personal against me. I winced and turned my head away from it, hissing under my breath as my body protested every little movement. My stomach churned. Whether from the pregnancy or the anxiety, I couldn’t say. Probably both. What a beautiful mess.My hand brushed across the sheets. Cold. Empty. Typical.I sat up slowly, my bare skin prickling as I realized I’d slept without anything on. Again. I pulled the duvet closer, trying to piece together how I’d gotten to bed last night. My memory was foggy, but not because I drank—I hadn’t touched a drop. I was just mentally drunk. On bad decisions.Then the noise started.Voices. Heavy boots thudding across hardwood. Shouted orders. The unmistakable clink of metal—guns, probably. Of course. Because nothing says "good morning, sunshine" like a mafia operation downstairs while
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