Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE DONS' VIRGIN: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

LIA 'S STEPMOTHER The dons didn’t explain why they let me go. One moment, I was useful enough to keep breathing. The next, I was escorted out and told to disappear. " Forget she exists. " I walk without hurry, enjoying the simple pleasure of choosing my own direction. People pass me without a second glance. No one knows who I am or what I’ve done, and that anonymity feels like a reward. I stop at a small café and sit outside, ordering some coffee.My stepdaughter- Lia - crossed my mind. The men who wanted her had been impatient, reckless. They moved too fast and asked the wrong questions. That was their mistake, not mine. I simply opened a door they were already knocking on. And I paid for it. The dons believe fear will keep me obedient. That time will dull my interest. I finish my drink and stand, pulling my coat closer as I step back onto the street. I shut the door behind me and slide the bolt into place. I’m halfway across the living room when I see it. An envelope

QUAN The dining room was warm, lanterns casting golden light over polished wood and crystal glasses. Lia sat across from me. “So,” Dimitri began, voice carrying across the table, “Lia, tell me—home check-ups or hospital visits? Which do you prefer?” Salve’s fingers drummed lightly on the table. “It’s her choice,” he said calmly, eyes on Lia. “Whatever she feels safest with.” Lia met both their gazes evenly. “Home visits,” she said. “It feels safer, more private, and I’d like doctors I trust to come here.” Dimitri leaned back, grin widening. “Safer? You’re not afraid of the hospital chaos, are you?” “I’m not,” Lia replied, amused. “I just like knowing who’s around me. Control and trust—nothing more.” “Trust, huh?” he said, leaning forward suddenly. “Lucky for you, you’ve got both of us watching. Though… keeping me out of the doctor’s office might be your first real challenge.” Lia laughed softly. “You’d probably cause more trouble than you’d prevent.” The dinner had e

LIA By the time the private gynaecologist arrives, Lia is well past the fragile uncertainty of early weeks. The nausea comes and goes, her energy rises in careful waves, and the reality of the pregnancy has settled in. The city outside has accepted its story. Inside the mansion, life moves carefully around hers. Quan answers the door himself when the doctor arrives. He checks her identification, confirms her equipment, then escorts her through the quiet corridors with the calm authority everyone in the house has learned not to question. Lia is waiting in one of the sunlit sitting rooms when they enter. She stands slowly, offering a polite smile. “Doctor.” “Mrs. Don,” the woman greets warmly, setting her case on the table. “You’re looking well.” “I feel better than I did a few weeks ago,” Lia admits. “That’s usually how this stage behaves,” the doctor says kindly. “Your body has adjusted.” Quan takes his usual position beside Lia—close enough to steady, far enough not

QUAN “I’ll go get the doctor.” The room feels smaller. I exhale slowly and reach for my phone. Dimitri answers on the second ring. “Quan , why are you calling me from a hospital?” “They took her. " --- By the time I arrive, I already know something is wrong. A man in scrubs is waiting near the entrance. “You must be family,” he says. “I am ,” I agree, walking past him. Third floor. Restricted wing. The doors open onto aftermath. A cracked monitor screen. A dented supply cart pushed hard into the wall. Two guards standing outside the door. “He regained consciousness abruptly,” she begins. “He was disoriented. He didn’t recognize the facility. He kept asking where his wife was.” “Reasonable,” I say mildly. “She wasn’t listed as a patient here,” the doctor continues. “That escalated things.” I glance around. “I can see that.” “He attempted to leave the ward,” another doctor adds. “Forced entry into an administrative office. We had to sedate him for h

LIA I wake to light, forcing its way through the edges of the boarded window. My body aches from the floor. At some point during the night, I slid down into the corner beside the bed and stayed there. It felt safer. My throat is dry. My head dull. Voices downstairs again. I pull my knees closer to my chest. I press my palm flat against my stomach. Footsteps approach. They stop outside my door. My entire body goes rigid. The door opens, and a man steps in. Taller than the others. Face covered with a black mask. Gloves on. He doesn’t greet me. He tosses something onto the bed. Fabric. A dress. My stomach drops. “Get dressed.” He steps closer. “I won’t repeat myself.” My fingers curl into the sleeve of my shirt. “What is this?” My voice hoarse. His head tilts slightly. “You’ll do what you’re told,” he says. “That’s how this works.” “I’m pregnant,” I say before I can stop myself. He pauses. Then shrugs. “Then don’t make it difficult.” He turns to