The Don's babygirl. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Answer The bass thundered through Julia's chest like a second heartbeat, strobe lights slicing through the darkness of Voltage nightclub. She'd never experienced anything like this. The heat of bodies pressed together, expensive perfume mixed with spilled champagne, the dangerous thrill of being somewhere her parents would never approve. Twenty-two years of carefully constructed innocence threatened to shatter with every pulsing beat. "You're thinking too much!" Kate shouted over the music, her voice a strained rasp against the overwhelming noise. "Just feel it, Jules!" Julia tried. She really did. But twenty years of conservative upbringing didn't dissolve in a single night, no matter how potent the cocktails or how insistent Kate's urging. Her modest black dress, a compromise between her desire to fit in and her ingrained sense of propriety, suddenly felt prudish compared to the sequined mini-dresses and expanses of bare skin surrounding her. She felt like an imposter, a spectator

The line outside Voltage stretched around the block, a river of sequins, leather, and skin that made Julia's little black dress seem positively conservative. Bass thundered from inside the building, so powerful she could feel it vibrating through the sidewalk. "Kate, maybe this isn't—" "Don't you dare finish that sentence." Kate linked their arms together, her heels clicking confidently as she bypassed the entire line and walked straight to the velvet rope. "Hey, Marco!" The bouncer—a mountain of a man with a shaved head and a surprisingly warm smile—looked down at Kate and grinned. "Katie! Been a minute. Who's your friend?" "This is Julia. First-timer. Be gentle with her." Marco's eyes softened as he looked at Julia, clearly reading her nervousness. "You're in good hands with this one," he said, unhooking the rope. "Have fun, ladies. Stay safe." Just like that, they were inside. Julia's senses were immediately overwhelmed. The club was a cavern of darkness punctuated by laser lights

Julia stood in the shower for forty minutes, water as hot as she could stand it, trying to wash away the feeling of Mikal's hands on her skin. It didn't work. Nothing worked. She'd given herself to a man who'd disappeared without a word. The walk back to campus that Sunday morning had been excruciating. People had stared at her—or maybe she'd just imagined they had. Did they know? Could they tell just by looking at her that she was different now? That she'd crossed a line she could never uncross? Her phone sat on the bathroom counter, silent. He'd gone or why he'd left her sleeping in his bed like she meant nothing. "Jules?" Kate's soft knock came at the door. "You've been in there for almost an hour. Please come out. Talk to me." Julia turned off the water with shaking hands and wrapped herself in a towel. When she opened the door, Kate was waiting with worried eyes and a cup of tea. "I made you chamomile," Kate offered. "And I ordered pizza. Comfort food helps everything, right?" J

"Absolutely not." Julia crossed her arms, glaring at Kate. "I'm not going back to Voltage." "Come on!" Kate held up a dress—not Julia's dress, but one of her own. Something sparkly and bold. "It's been three weeks. You can't let one bad night ruin your entire social life." "I can and I will." It was Friday night, and Kate had been campaigning all week for a return to Voltage. Julia had been resisting just as hard. The mysterious texts had stopped after that first night, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Walking to class, she'd catch glimpses of expensive cars moving too slowly. In the library, she'd feel eyes on her. Always watching. Never approaching. It was driving her crazy. "Ash is going," Kate wheedled. "And his girlfriend Maya. And a whole group from his building. Safety in numbers! Plus, you loved dancing before the Mikal thing. Don't let him take that from you too." Julia wavered. She had loved dancing. Loved the freedom of losing herself in music, the an

The roses kept coming. Monday: White roses, two dozen, perfect and elegant. Wednesday: Red roses, symbolism so obvious it made Julia blush. Friday: Pink roses with a card this time. Just two words in bold, masculine handwriting: **Soon, dolcezza.** Julia stared at the card, her heart racing. Dolcezza. The same endearment Massimo had used on the dance floor. So the flowers were from him. Of course they were. Who else would send dozens of expensive roses to a broke college student? "This is insane," Kate said, examining the latest bouquet with a mixture of awe and concern. "Jules, these probably cost more than our monthly food budget. Combined." "I know." "And you're not... I mean, you're not actually considering..." Kate trailed off, reading the answer on Julia's face. "Oh my God, you are! You're thinking about him!" "I'm not!" Julia protested, but it was a weak denial. She was thinking about him. Had been thinking about him constantly since Saturday night. The way he'd looked a