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Chapter 2
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The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Chapter 10
The document, powerful enough to shake the foundations of the North American underworld, was placed in front of me.The complete ownership of the southern empire—ports, casinos, arms pipelines, even all of Rocco's family territories.All I had to do was sign, and the Thorne family's influence would double overnight."Is he crazy?" I stared at the forceful signature at the bottom: Rocco Gravano.Julian sat in a wheelchair, his face still pale, but he was in much better spirits.He was peeling an apple, and he glanced at the stack of papers. "His final penance, I suppose. It's yours, Rosalie. You earned it."I took the gold-plated pen and signed my name on the final page.For five years, I had given not just my youth, but my dignity. I had earned this compensation.But I didn't take over the South immediately.I pushed the documents back to the lawyer. "Have your team manage it on my behalf. All profits are to be transferred to the Thorne family foundation."But there was one last thing
The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Chapter 9
The surgery at the Thorne family's private medical center lasted four hours.I sat on a bench outside the operating room the entire time, Julian's blood still on my clothes, now dried to a dark brown.My father came, tried to take me home to rest, but I sent him away with a single, sharp sentence.Julian's parents came. They wanted to wait with me, but a single glare was enough to send them away.I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to be alone with him.The red light above the operating room finally went out.The lead surgeon walked out, removing his mask, his face etched with exhaustion."The surgery was a success. We removed the bullet. It didn't hit any vital organs."I stood up, my legs weak. "When will he wake up?""He lost a lot of blood. He'll be unconscious for a while. You should get some rest, too. You've been here for so long...""I'm not leaving."I pushed past him and went straight into the private room.Julian lay on the white bed, his face as pale as the sheets.H
The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Chapter 8
Rocco escaped with only minor injuries.He patched up the cut on his forehead, his face a mess of scrapes and bruises. Utterly pathetic.But he didn't return to the South.Did the Thornes think smashing his car would make him run? Not a chance.He paid a Thorne family gardener ten thousand dollars for Rosalie's schedule."This afternoon, the young miss is going to the Sea Cliff Club with Mr. Gravano."He knew the place—an exclusive resort built on a cliffside, open only to a few top northern families.Rocco drove a nondescript black sedan, arriving three hours early.He parked on a hill a kilometer from the club and took a pair of military-grade, high-powered binoculars from the back seat.If he could just see her, just confirm she was okay, that would be enough.He zoomed in.By the club's infinity pool, Rosalie was lying on a white lounge chair.She wore a black bikini, her long hair spread like silk over her shoulders.The sun made her skin glow like pearl.She appeared to be asleep
The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Chapter 7
The cold northern wind sliced across my face, mixing with the metallic tang of blood, and finally brought some clarity back to Rocco.But Julian's words were replaying in his mind.The words sawed at his nerves, a rusty blade dragged over them again and again."For you, she had the tattoo lasered off without anesthetic.""For you, she played the invisible woman for five years to make way for your useless little sister."Rocco sat on a curb, his hands shaking so badly it took him three tries with his expensive custom lighter to get a flame."Thorne."The name was like a brand on his tongue.A dry, bitter laugh escaped him, splitting the cut on his lip.How could she be a Thorne? The Thornes, the most bloodthirsty family in the North?He thought back to the leaky apartment five years ago, to Rosalie in a cheap, pilling nightgown, cooking him instant pasta in that moldy room.He'd given her a necklace that cost a few hundred dollars, money he'd saved for a long time. She'd held that simp
The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Chapter 6
Returning to the manor, I wasn't greeted with a hug, but with a stack of photos thrown in my face.Pictures from tonight: me, reveling at the club, and Rocco, his face bruised and bloody."Outrageous!"My father sat behind his massive mahogany desk, slamming his cane on the floor. The prized arowana in the tank darted in panic."That's the Don of the South! The Gravano and Thorne families may be allies, but humiliating Rocco in public like that completely disregards the balance of power!""You're too willful, Rosalie! We spoiled you, and now you have no respect!""Now everyone in the North is saying the Thornes have no honor, that we brutalize our allies!"I bent down, picked up the photo of Julian and me kissing, and traced it with my fingertip.It's a good picture.Julian looked quite handsome last night, fighting for me."He deserved it," I said, tossing the photo back on the desk. I sat on the sofa, crossed my legs. "As for the balance? Let it break."Seeing my defiant attitude, my
The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Chapter 5
Rocco sank to the floor, the phone slipping from his grasp as the world fell away.Three days after I returned to the North, Julian dragged me out of my room."Don't just mope around, my Principessa. Come on, I'm taking you somewhere."He took me to a famous underground club.The heavy metal music pounded like a hammer, and the air was thick with the decadent scent of alcohol and perfume.I swirled a glass of tequila. My barely-there black sequin dress caught the light of the disco ball.My makeup was sharp and aggressive: blood-red lips and smoky, winged eyeliner that formed a seductive cat-eye.I imagined Rocco's frown, the disgusted look in his eyes he'd give me before telling me to go back and change.But this was the real me, Rosalie Thorne, the Thorn Principessa, who never had to dull her edges for anyone.Just like now. Julian had booked us the prime circular booth in the center of the club. Across from me, a male model, barely twenty, was blushing as he stared at my collarbone
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