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Her Protector
Last Updated:
2025-12-15 15:55:59
Latest chapter
CLAIMED BY THE DON Her Protector
ENZO’S POV I slammed the door behind me as I stood in the hallway with my chest heaving like I had just run ten miles. The echo bounced off the walls, sharp and accusing. For a second I leaned my forehead against the cool wood as I listened to the muffled sobs coming from inside the room. Fuck. What the hell had I just done? I walked away fast as my boots thudded on the marble stairs. Each step took me farther from her cries but they followed anyway as it clawed at the back of my skull like an unforgettable nightmare. I made it halfway down the corridor before I stopped dead. Her voice cracked through the door again this time in a broken whimper that punched straight through my ribs. I turned back as I stared at the closed door like it was the enemy. My fist clenched from anger, I was angry at myself for being careless, angry at her for being careless with her life, and angry Giovanni from trying to take what belongs to me. I punched the wall hard as the plaster cracked. Pain e
CLAIMED BY THE DON Fucked To Obedience
ELENA’S POV “Have you ever been fucked with a gun before, Elena?” The question hung in the stale air of the room, Enzo’s voice was rough and edged with something feral. He held the pistol loosely as the barrel gleamed under the harsh lights, still warm from the kills. I shook my head hard as tears blurred my vision. “No.” My voice came out in a small and broken tone. The cold metal pressed against my inner thigh sent shivers racing up my spine as it mixed with the lingering burn from the strap welts crisscrossing my skin. He tilted his head as he narrowed his eyes. “Then today will be your first.” Panic surged through me like ice water. I pushed up on the bench with trembling arms. “Enzo, no. Please, it’s loaded. That’s insane. You can’t possibly—” “Shut the fuck up,” he half-yelled as he stepped closer and his free hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back. “And be the good whore you’re meant to be.” I whimpered as the pull stung my scalp, but his eyes silenced any more pro
CLAIMED BY THE DON Bad Girls Get Fucked
ELENA’S POV “There will be consequences for your disobedience.” Enzo’s voice sliced through the air, low and final, like a judge passing sentence. He stood over the bodies sprawled across the asphalt with his gun still smoking in his hand, blood pooling dark, and thick under the harsh afternoon sun. His eyes locked on mine—black, endless, furious in a way I’d never seen directed at me before. My knees buckled but I caught myself against the van as my palms scraped the rough metal. The punch to my face still throbbed, my split lip still tasted like copper, but the pain felt distant compared to the terror clawing up in my throat. Those men had stormed into pediatrics as they grabbed my arm mid-sentence while I charted a little boy’s fever, and dragged me through the corridor full of people. I’d thought at first they were Enzo’s men coming to haul me home like a misbehaving child but when the first fist landed on me I realized they weren’t his. His men would never touch me like that.
CLAIMED BY THE DON Consequences
ENZO’S POV I sat at the head of the polished mahogany table in the private room at La Perla, the kind of place where deals worth hundreds of millions got sealed over plates of osso buco and bottles of Barolo that cost more than most men’s cars. The air hung thick with cigar smoke and the low rumble of voices—five capos from the old families, two Albanian suppliers, and my own lieutenants flanking me like bookends. We were carving up the new port routes of Naples, rerouting shipments after the last raid cost us two containers and three good men. I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled, letting Marco handle the numbers. My mind wasn’t on the percentages of the bribes to the harbor master. It was thirty-three floors up, in a penthouse where a stubborn woman with fire in her veins was probably waking up and plotting exactly how to defy me. I’d left before dawn, slipped out while she still slept tangled in sheets that smelled like us. Cowardly? Maybe. But if I’d stayed, if I’d seen
CLAIMED BY THE DON I Was Never Asking
ELENA’S POV“No?” The single syllable cracked out of me like a gunshot. Enzo didn’t flinch, but something dark and lethal flickered across his face. He stood there in the middle of the bedroom looking like a warlord who’d just been told the battle was cancelled. “No,” he repeated, slower, colder. “You’re not going back to work. Not today, not next week, not until I say so.” I shot off the bed so fast the mattress bounced. The shirt I wore twisted around my hips and I didn’t bother fixing it. “Say that again.” His eyes narrowed. “You heard me.” “Yeah, I did.” I took one step toward him, then another, until the heat rolling off his chest licked at my skin. “And I’m telling you right now, Enzo DeLuca, you don’t get to decide what I do with my life. You bought my body, not my future.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Don’t.” “Don’t what? Speak the truth?” My voice climbed even though I hated how it shook. “You parade me around, dress me up, fuck me whenever you feel like it, and now y
CLAIMED BY THE DON Old Rivals and Loaded Guns
ENZO’S POV The elevator doors slid open and the air in the penthouse turned to glass, sharp, brittle, ready to cut. Giovanni was sprawled across my couch like a king on a stolen throne. His ankles were crossed as he had my twenty-five-year-old Pappy Van Winkle in his hand, four of his soldiers fanned out behind him in cheap suits that screamed Naples dockyard. My own men lined the walls, their palms already resting on holsters, their eyes flat and murderous. Elena’s fingers tightened around mine until I felt her pulse hammering against my skin. Giovanni unfolded himself slowly, that crocodile smile stretching across his face. “Fratello mio!” He opened his arms like we were about to embrace at Christmas mass. “Finally, the groom-to-be arrives.” I let go of Elena’s hand and walked forward. The marble was cold under my shoes, every step echoed like a countdown. My men moved with me; Giovanni’s men mirrored them. Twelves safeties clicked off in perfect, hateful harmony. I stopped t
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