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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
publish date:
2026-03-31 18:13:53
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HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS) CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
“IGNITE. MY LOVE. IGNITE”SOFIASomething goes over my head. A black bag, cutting off my vision, plunging me into darkness.Oh God. Oh God, this is really happening.I'm being kidnapped.Terror floods through me. I'm struggling, trying to pull away, but whoever has me is too strong. They're dragging me away from the car. I hear a van door slide open."Please!" I'm crying now, terrified. "Please, I have a daughter, please—""Easy, easy." A voice I don't recognize. Male. Calm. "We're not going to hurt you."I'm lifted into the van. The door slides shut. The engine starts. We're moving.I'm shaking so hard my teeth are chattering. This is it. This is how I die. Kidnapped by rival families or Marco's enemies or—Oh God, Isabella. What's going to happen to Isabella?"Please," I sob. "Please, I'll do anything, just don't hurt my daughter—""No one's hurting anyone." The same calm voice. "Just sit tight. We'll be there soon."There? Where is there? Who are these people? What do they want?I
HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS) CHAPTER FORTY SIX
“AND HE KEEPS PULLING ME BACK, AGAIN AND AGAIN.”SOFIAI'm ignoring him.I know it's childish. I know it's not solving anything. But after what happened at the wedding—after coming so close to losing myself completely in that coat room—I need distance.I need to remember why I can't give in to this.So I'm ignoring him.It's been two days since the wedding. Two days of making sure I'm never alone with him. Two days of leaving rooms when he enters. Two days of pretending he doesn't exist.It's driving him crazy. I can tell.Yesterday morning, he tried to talk to me in the kitchen. I walked right past him like he was invisible.Yesterday afternoon, he cornered me in the hallway. I told him I had to check on Isabella and disappeared into her room.Last night, he knocked on my door. I didn't answer.He knows now that I'm in the room next to his, not in Marco's room. That particular secret is out. But I still won't talk to him. Won't look at him. Won't acknowledge his existence beyond what
HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS) CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
INTERLUDE (MARCO’S POV)“PLEASE STAY…”MARCO.I make it to the hallway before my composure completely cracks.Engaged.Antonio is engaged.To a woman.The words keep echoing in my head, each repetition feeling like a knife to the gut.I've been careful. So fucking careful for years. Keeping my distance in public. Never letting anyone see how I really feel. Playing the part of the devoted husband, the family man, the heir to the Valentino empire who has everything together.And Antonio played his part too. The loyal consigliere. My father's right hand. Nothing more.But in private—in the stolen moments we could find—we were something else entirely.Or at least I thought we were.I see him before he sees me. He's slipped away from the crowd, from his beaming fiancée, seeking refuge in one of the side rooms.I follow.The room is some kind of sitting area, dark and quiet. Antonio is standing by the window, his back to me, his shoulders rigid.I close the door behind me. Lock it."What th
HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS) CHAPTER FORTY FOUR
“DON’T JUDGE OTHER BECAUSE THEY SIN DIFFERENTLY FROM YOU.”SOFIA.I step out of the coat room on shaky legs, my body still humming with unfulfilled need, my mind screaming at me for being so reckless.And there he is.Marco.Standing in the hallway. Holding two glasses of champagne. His expression completely unreadable.Oh God.How long has he been standing here? What did he hear?My heart is hammering so hard I think it might break through my ribs. I open my mouth to say something—anything—but no words come out.Marco says nothing. Just hands me one of the glasses and walks toward the balcony doors at the end of the hall.I follow because what else can I do? My legs feel like they might give out at any moment, but I force them to move. Force myself to walk calmly, normally, like I wasn't just in a coat room with his cousin's fingers between my legs.The balcony is mercifully empty. The cold night air hits my flushed skin and I'm grateful for it. Maybe it'll help me think clearly. May
HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS) CHAPTER FORTY THREE
“NOT ALL LOVE ARE MEANT TO BLOOM”SOFIA.The words hit me like a slap. "What? No! Dante, no—""He's in the way." His voice is matter-of-fact. "He's keeping you trapped in a loveless marriage. Let me remove the obstacle.""He's not an obstacle, he's a person!" I push at his chest and this time he steps back, letting me go. "He's been good to me. He's protected me. I can't just—you can't just—"I'm pulling my dress down, fixing my hair, trying to compose myself while my body is still screaming for his touch."Marco is my benefactor," I say firmly. "He saved me when I had nothing.I owe him my loyalty at the very least.""Loyalty?" Dante's laugh is bitter. " Look baby,I would protect you.""You can't promise that." I wrap my arms around myself. "You're in a succession race. You have enemies. Someone tried to kill you three weeks ago. How is that safe for me?""Our world is never safe." His voice softens slightly. "But at least with me, you'd be alive. Really alive. Not just surviving.""M
HIS BUTTERFLY (BETWEEN TWO DONS) CHAPTER FORTY TWO
"TO THE GIRLS WHO LOVEEEEE… THE VILLAN”Three Weeks LaterSOFIA.I should have known weddings would be dangerous.Too much champagne. Too many dark corners. Too many opportunities for Dante to make me do something stupid. The wedding is for one of Marco's distant cousins—Gianna, marrying some businessman from Chicago. It's the kind of event where every branch of the Valentino family shows up in their finest, where alliances are strengthened and deals are made in quiet corners between champagne toasts.Marco is in his element, working the room with practiced ease. I'm playing my part—the dutiful wife in an elegant navy dress, smiling at the right people, making polite conversation, pretending everything is normal.But everything is not normal.Because Dante is here.He's been watching me all night. I feel his eyes on me constantly—when I'm talking to distant aunts, when I'm refilling my champagne, when I'm checking on Isabella.The weight of his gaze is suffocating.These past three w
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