All Chapters of THE DONS' VIRGIN: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

LIAI said nothing.Salve’s hand was still heavy on my arm, his grip steady but not cruel. He didn’t need to be cruel. The weight of his words was enough. I forced myself to look away from the girl in the collar. Back to the glossy marble floors. Back to the people who glanced at us with envy, admiration, fear. I willed my face into something blank, something they couldn’t read.If I broke now, in the middle of this palace of glass, I’d give them the satisfaction of seeing just how fragile I was. I wouldn’t give him that. I wouldn’t give anyone that.So I nodded once, short and sharp, like I understood. Like I accepted.Salve released me, his expression unreadable, but I caught the faintest flicker of approval.“Good,” he said simply, and walked ahead.Sia lingered behind me. I felt her eyes on me, curious, searching. Then she leaned close, her whisper threading into my ear. “You’re stronger than you think. Just don’t waste that strength on foolish escapes.”I didn’t answer her either

QUAN “I heard you finally saw the reality,” Quan’s voice cut through the quiet of Lia’s room before she even realized the door had opened. He leaned against the frame, casual as always, a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his fingers. The smoke curled lazily in the air, carrying with it the sharp bite of his presence. Lia stiffened. Sia, who had been pouring tea for her, glanced between them but said nothing. Quan’s gaze pinned Lia, sharp but not unkind. “The collars. The faces. The little cage they keep you in. It hit you, didn’t it?” Her lips parted, but no words came. She hated how exposed she felt under his stare. Quan snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t bother lying. I can see it in your eyes. You finally realized this world doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings.” He tapped the ash into a tray on the dresser, his tone laced with his usual roughness. “Welcome to the real stage, princess. You’re just lucky you landed here, and not with some bastard who’d have broken you

LIA I’d noticed it long before I admitted it to myself. Quan had begun disappearing. At first it was subtle—missed breakfasts, his voice echoing down the hall just as I turned a corner. Then entire days would pass without a glimpse of him. No teasing remarks, no half-smile thrown my way. The house felt emptier for it, even though the walls were still crowded with guards and silent staff. And the strangest part? I missed him. The man who had once called me “trouble in silk.” The man who had kissed me when neither of us meant to. That memory burned like a secret under my skin. Every time I thought of it—of his breath, the startled sound he made before pulling away—I felt the same strange mixture of guilt and longing. I had no right to miss him, not when I was bound to Salve, not when Dimitri’s eyes saw everything. But want doesn’t care for rules. So when I finally found him, I didn’t think. I moved. He was in the courtyard, sleeves rolled up, cleaning his gun. His shirt clun

LILY The attack had ended. Smoke still lingered in the air, and the ground outside the estate was covered in broken glass and the smell of gunpowder. I stood beside Quan, my hands shaking even though I tried to hide it. My ears were still ringing from the gunfire, my heart still racing. Dimitri stepped out of one of the cars, brushing dust from his black coat like unfazed as always. His men spread out behind him, checking the area. He looked at me first, then at Quan, then back at me again and that smirk of his curved slowly across his face. “Well,” he said, his voice smooth and sharp all at once. “I hope that little show gave you a proper taste of the world you keep trying to run to.” I flinched. “What—” He cut me off, stepping closer. “Out there, kotyonok, men don’t offer silk and gold. They take what they want and burn the rest.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You haven’t met real ones yet.” Dimitri’s tone softened slightly, though the edge never left. “Be grateful t

DIMITRI The thing about control is that most people mistake it for strength. But real control—the one that bends people without them realizing—is all about patience. And I’ve always had just enough of that to make the world dance. The morning after the shopping trip, the house was unusually quiet. Salve had locked himself in the study again, doing whatever gods of empire-building demanded. Lia, predictably, had disappeared somewhere into the gardens. And Quan—our golden boy — was pretending not to look for her. I watched from the balcony, cigarette dangling from my lips, the taste of smoke and sunlight sharp on my tongue. Below, Lia sat under the olive tree, a book open but unread in her lap. The wind teased strands of her hair across her face. She looked softer today. Weaker, maybe. Or maybe that was the illusion she wanted us to believe. Either way, she didn’t belong here, and yet she did.Then there was Quan. He lingered near the fountain, phone in hand, pretending to scroll.