All Chapters of THE DON'S FAVORITE OBSESSION : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

POV: Leona MorettiIt was morning, with.the sun shining with so much glamour and energy.Birds chirping outside occasionally and the air smelled fresh.But I didn't feel refreshed.I stared at the mirror, but the girl inside didn’t look like me.She was too still. Too quiet. Her brown eyes had the same dark gold ring around the pupils, but the rest was wrong...colder, sharper. A doll dressed in another man’s idea of beauty.I touched my reflection. My fingers were steady.I wished they weren’t.I remember the morning I stopped believing in safety.It was the same morning my twenty-two year old self stood in my apartment kitchen, barefoot, in an oversized t-shirt that still smelled faintly of antiseptic from the night shift. The kettle was whistling sharply, like it was panicking and my phone was vibrating on the counter, again and again, until I snatched it up, expecting the hospital. But it wasn’t the ER. It was Luca.He only said four words before the line went silent."I need you.

POV: Dante RizzoThe dining room was set like a damn painting. Crystal gleamed, candles flickered low, and silverware sat in precise symmetry. Order. Control. Things that mattered. Things that worked.Unlike the woman I’d left upstairs.Fifteen minutes.A reasonable window.A test of obedience.She failed.I didn’t pace. No, I wasn’t some twitchy idiot trying to guess her next move. I knew her. Knew the games. The delay wasn't hesitation. It was defiance dressed up as exhaustion. She thought silence was safety.She thought wrong.I cut into the steak on my plate, chewed slowly. Alone. The seat across from me stayed empty long enough for the candle wax to start dripping sideways.Then I heard it.Soft steps.I didn’t look up. Not immediately. Let her feel the weight of her lateness.Let her stew in it.Let her wonder how I’d make her pay.She stopped at the entrance. I knew she was watching me. Waiting for a cue.I gave her none.“You’re late,” I said finally, voice smooth but cold eno

POV: LeonaThe knock echoed again, like a cruel reminder that reality still existed outside this room.I should’ve pulled away.Should’ve straightened my robe. Stepped back. Breathed.But Dante’s grip on my chin was firm, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth like he owned it.“Leona,” the voice outside called. Male. Familiar. Calm. Too calm.My stomach twisted.Luca.Dante’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine. “Tell him to go.”I tried. I really did. But my voice was caught somewhere between defiance and desire, tangled up in the heat still lingering between us.“He’ll know,” I whispered. “He always knows.”Dante’s expression darkened. “Then let him know. Let him see that his leash never reached this far.”Another knock...more urgent this time.“Leona, I need to speak with you. Alone.”Dante’s laugh was low, feral. “Funny. So do I.”“Dante...” I hissed, trying to shove him off me, but he didn’t budge. Instead, his mouth dipped t

Dante’s POV“She didn’t even flinch at Clause 17?” l asked without looking up from my tumbler of whiskey.“No, sir,” Marcello replied, standing at attention just a few feet from the main console. “She read it. Went pale. But no outburst. No dramatics. Just quiet.”I finally raised my eyes to the screen. The playback of Clarisse’s visit had just finished. I’d watched the footage twice already, watched Leona’s body freeze at the word consort, watched her fingers tremble ever so slightly when Clarisse handed her the black card. Watched her eyes flicker with confusion, fury… and something else.Something like hurt.“She didn’t ask where I was?” I asked, tone like ice beneath velvet.“No, sir. She asked if we were here to kick her out.”I scoffed softly. “Typical.”Marcello hesitated, but only for a breath. “Do you want eyes on her for the next 48?”I didn’t answer immediately. I stood and walked over to the tinted glass that overlooked the city, the skyline bathed in cold gray clouds and

Leona's POV He picked me up in a bridal style and made way to a car parked near a curb. It was already drizzling.He opened the door, gently placed me in the front seat and buckled me in. He closed the door and turned to go to the driver's seat when a bullet flew passed his neck, almost hitting him in the shoulder. He ducked the next bullet and ran to the driver's seat, entered, started the car and reversed in a way that I've only seen in the movies. I just sat there, shocked and unable to comprehend what was happening.The sedan skidded around a corner, tires shrieking against wet pavement. The city blurred past, flooded neon lights, fractured shadows of looming buildings, the occasional flash of headlights from other cars that made my pulse thunder harder.I had one hand braced against the dash, the other clenched in my lap, nails biting into my skin. Every bump and swerve rattled through my bones, but it wasn’t only the ride that kept me on edge, it was the man gripping the wheel.