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Chapter Sixteen: Thanksgiving Drama.
Last Updated:
2025-09-05 20:48:10
SinachiIsabella has finally chosen Vladimir, but his claim on her heart comes with a price. Do you think his love will protect her or trap her even deeper in his dark world? 🖤 👉 If you were Isabella, would you choose blood (family) or passion (love)?
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CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter Eighteen: Welcome To A New World.
The cold, brutal reality of Italy was a million miles away. We stepped off the private jet and onto the pristine tarmac of Vladimir's private hangar, and a different kind of silence settled over me. It was the silence of a well-oiled machine, of a world that was functioning exactly as it should. The air, crisp and cold, was a welcome shock to my system after the suffocating heat of my family's rage. I was home. The thought, once a prison, was now a shield.Vladimir’s men were lined up in two perfect rows, their faces impassive, their bodies a silent, terrifying wall of protection. They bowed in unison as we walked past, their respect a tangible thing in the frigid air. Vladimir's hand, so warm and solid, was wrapped around mine, his grip a silent promise. He led me to a black bulletproof SUV, the doors opening as if by magic.Inside the car, a deep, comfortable silence settled between us. I leaned my head against his shoulder, my body a tired, aching thing after the emotional war I had
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter Seventeen: His Claim.
After what felt like an eternity of silent grief, the car stopped. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to face the reality of a world without my family, a world where the people who had raised me saw me as a stranger. But his hand, so gentle and so strong, was on my chin, lifting my head until my tear-streaked face was looking at his.“Moya solnyshko,” he whispered, his voice a low, raw rumble. “Look at me.”I did. His eyes, those cold, hard emeralds, were now filled with a dangerous, possessive light. There was no pity in their depths, no trace of the man who had knelt before me just hours before. There was just a raw, unyielding love that was both beautiful and terrifying. He reached for my face, his hands wiping away my tears, his touch a gentle, loving thing that made my heart ache with a fresh wave of pain.“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice a low command. “You are a queen. My queen. Queens do not cry over those who are unworthy of their presence.”My jaw clenched, a fresh wave of a
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter Sixteen: Thanksgiving Drama.
The door swung inward, revealing the man who was both the center of my world and the source of all my deepest fears. Giovanni Romano. My father. His eyes, the exact shade of olive green as my own, widened first in confusion, then in shock. He was staring past me, his gaze fixed on Vladimir, his jaw clenched in a silent, terrifying warning.“Papa?” I whispered, the word a small, broken thing in the charged silence.His gaze snapped back to me, but his eyes were still on Vladimir. “Isabella, what is this? Who is this man? Why are you here?” His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that I had not heard since I was a child.I took a deep breath, ready to say something, but before I could, my brothers emerged from the shadows of the hallway. First came Domenico, his face full of cold fury, his body a solid wall of rage. Behind him were the triplets, Rocco, Salvatore, and Enzo, their expressions mirroring Domenico’s. They were my protectors, my knights, my Dons. And they were all looking at me
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter Fifteen: Meeting The Family.
The gown was a silent conspiracy. It was a deep emerald green, a rich, audacious color that seemed to glow in the soft light of the bedroom.The fabric, a heavy, luxurious silk, was cut to hug every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination. I stood before the full-length mirror, my hands resting on the gentle, undeniable swell of my stomach.Five months. Five months of staying hidden in Vladimir’s fortress, five months of my life being absorbed by his world, and five months of this beautiful, terrifying secret growing inside me.The bump was no longer a secret. It was a beautiful, public proclamation, and the silk clung to it with an almost obscene devotion.The twins were kicking, a soft, fluttering symphony that was a constant reminder of the two souls who would be the bridge between two warring worlds. I ran a hand over my stomach, my heart a painful, frantic beat. I was not just Isabella anymore. I was a mother. The mother of a Don’s children.The door to the bedroom opened, and Vla
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter Fourteen: A Lie Well Built.
The click of the lock. That was the last thing I heard before the silence settled over the room. The space, which had just moments ago been filled with the tender, brutal passion of Vladimir, now felt hollow.I stood in the middle of it, my body still humming from his touch, my heart drums against my ribs. The scent of him, cologne, whiskey, and that uniquely masculine scent that was just him, lingered in the air. He was gone. My protector, my lover, my terrifying Don.The terror, which I had suppressed for so long, now started to creep up my spine.I didn't even have time to process my fear before the door opened again. It was Irina. Her face, a mask of quiet worry, was still beautiful, a testament to the powerful man she had raised. She walked in, her gaze fixed on me, the mother in her seeing the turmoil in my eyes. She knew what had just happened. She knew what was happening now. She was family, and in this world, family was everything.“He is with his brothers,” she said, her voice
CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Chapter Thirteen: A New Enemy.
I could still feel the touch of her fingers on my hair, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the taste of her on my lips. My heart, a muscle I had long ago taught to beat with the cold precision of a metronome, was still thrumming with a wild, desperate rhythm. Just a moment ago, I was on my knees, a posture I had not assumed for anyone, not even my mother, since I was a child. I had knelt for her. For Isa. For the only woman who had ever looked at me with anything other than fear, desire for my power, or a cold calculation of profit.The sudden knock on the door and Viktor’s voice had been a harsh, brutal shove back into the reality of my world, the world of blood, power, and betrayal. The Don was back. The man who had been worshipping his woman was now a monster.I closed the door to our room with a quiet click, the soft, golden light inside a stark contrast to the cold, sterile hallway. The air here was heavy with the scent of fear and diesel fumes, a sharp, metallic smell t
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