All Chapters of THE DON'S FAVORITE OBSESSION : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Dante’s POVThe party carried on like nothing had happened. Laughter, splashes in the pool, champagne flutes clinking under the sun. But something had shifted. I felt it before I even saw it.Leona sat beside Gianna now, her sarong drawn tightly around her waist. She looked composed, perfectly poised. Too poised. The way her lips curved in polite amusement, the way her hands rested delicately on her lap, controlled.But I knew her better than anyone in this place. The tightness around her eyes gave her away.She wasn’t fine.I excused myself from Alex with a hand on his shoulder, ignoring his ramble about shipment routes, and crossed the pool deck. People parted easily for me, their conversations dipping just slightly as I passed. Power was like gravity, it pulled eyes whether you wanted it or not.“Enjoying yourself, bella?” My shadow fell over her as I stopped by her chair.Leona glanced up at me, her expression smooth. Too smooth. “Of course.”I studied her. Sunlight painted her sk

Leona’s POVThe car ride was silent. Dante drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gearshift, his profile carved in shadow and light. There was a convoy yet he chose to drive himself. I sat pressed against the window, arms folded, refusing to let my gaze wander to him even though every nerve in my body was attuned to his presence.When we pulled up to the sprawling villa, I realized this wasn’t just any brunch, it was a display. Cars lined the driveway, sleek and expensive, guards stationed at every archway. The sound of faint music and low laughter drifted from the garden.Dante stepped out first, coming around to open my door. His hand extended, formal, his expression unreadable. I hesitated a heartbeat too long before sliding my palm into his.His grip was steady, unyielding.Inside, the air was warm with the scent of citrus and champagne. Long tables stretched across the courtyard, women in beautiful dresses and men in tailored suits filling the seats. H

Leona's POV The slam of the front door echoed through the hall like a verdict. Dante didn’t follow me. He didn’t even look back when I turned away.By the time I climbed the stairs, my chest felt heavy, like something was lodged deep inside, refusing to let me breathe. The corridors stretched endlessly, empty and suffocating.When I reached our room, I pushed the door shut behind me and collapsed against it. My legs wouldn’t hold me anymore. The sobs came before I could stop them, jagged and raw, tearing through my throat until my whole body shook.I buried my face in my palms. His silence replayed over and over louder than any accusation he could’ve thrown at me. Silence that told me I wasn’t worth defending. Silence that cut deeper than his rage.For a long moment, I let the tears fall. I hated myself for it. Hated how much he could still break me with nothing more than doubt.But beneath the ache, something hardened.I dragged myself up, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my han

Dante’s POVThe slam of the front door rattled the silence of the mansion, but it wasn’t enough to bleed out the poison still roaring in my veins. I don't know how I didn't crash the car on my way home. Every step I took up the stairs was heavier than the last, the drug clinging to me like chains, heat pulsing under my skin, urging me to lose control. I didn't even know what I was high on.Valentina’s laugh still echoed in my skull. Her perfume still clung to my clothes. My jaw ached from how hard I’d been grinding my teeth.I wanted to scrub her touch off my skin with fire.But then I pushed open the bedroom door and everything inside me stuttered.Leona.She was sitting on the edge of the bed, silk draped over her like a whisper. Bare legs curled into the covers, hair tumbling around her shoulders, eyes wide as they locked on mine.For a moment, the haze tilted. The heat that had been clawing at me with Valentina’s face burned hotter, sharper, crueler because it wanted her. Not Vale

Dante’s POVThe slam of the door cut through the haze in my head like a blade. My body jerked toward it instinctively...heart clawing, hope catching in my throat.Leona. She came back. Please, let it be her.But the figure in the doorway wasn’t her.Marcello stood there, shoulders tense, a steaming mug clutched in his hand. His gaze flicked over me, sweat-soaked, trembling, still half-hard and feral in the sheets and something in his jaw tightened.Disappointment soured on my tongue. I wanted her. I needed her. Not him.“She said this would help,” Marcello said curtly, as if the words tasted strange to him. “Told me exactly what to do.” He set the mug on the nightstand, but when my hand shook too violently to reach it, he sighed, muttered something under his breath, and pressed it to my lips himself.Humiliation burned hotter than the concoction sliding down my throat. Being fed like a child, like a beast chained by its own hunger. The taste was bitter, pungent, clinging to my tongue.