Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Don's Lethal Desire: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Chapter 1: Chocolate cake and breakupsGwen“Hey baby! Earth to you Anth!” I snapped my fingers as I looked at the half-eaten chocolate cake—our anniversary cake. Anthony hadn’t touched it and I knew that something was wrong because he loved the chocolate cakes I made.“What… what were you saying?” Anthony responded, blinking rapidly.I forced a smile, twirling my fork. “Are you okay my love? You’ve been quiet all night. Come on cheer up, it's our anniversary.”Anthony exhaled, rubbing his temple. “Gwendolyn, we need to talk.” My stomach dropped. He never called me by my full name, whatever this was had to be really important.I sat up, leaned on my arm and whispered, “Okay…?”He didn’t look at me. “This isn’t working anymore.” I laughed, looking up at him. “What do you mean baby? Are you trying to play a prank on me?”“We need to break up, like I said, this…” He said pointing to the both of us, “... isn't working anymore.”The room spinned, what did he mean? I've given two year

Chapter 3: Cocktail and threatsArmandoEnzo burst into my office without knocking— the only man who'd dare. “We've got a problem.”I didn't look up from the shipment manifests. “Speak.” “Luca Bianchi's been feeding intel to the Rinaldis.” Enzo responded, taking a seat.My pen froze mid-signature. The Bianchis were supposed to be allies. “Proof?” Enzo tossed surveillance photos on my desk. “He's been meeting their consigliere at Prism every Thursday. The gay bar off 5th.”I studied the grainy images, it showed Luca handing over envelopes and taking thick stacks of cash. My jaw tightened. “He's not gay.” “Exactly.” Enzo lit a cigarette, the flame reflecting in his dark eyes. “Makes for perfect dead drops. Who'd suspect?”I stood, rolling my sleeves. “Gather six men. No guns, I want this executed quietly.”I hated gay bars, the disco lights, loud music, people of the same gender rubbing onto each other. That wasn't my scene, it's not that I have any problems with gay people, I just

Chapter 5: Vanilla and bloodArmando “Please, Don Denaro, I didn’t know! I swear on my mother’s life!” I wiped my blood stained hands after gutting Luca alive. The accountant, a weasel of a man named Petrov, trembled beside his lifeless body, his suit jacket soaked through with Luca’s blood and sweat that had nothing to do with the evening’s humidity. I slowly adjusted my platinum cufflink, the movement deliberate, a predator’s quiet gesture before the strike. I nodded once to Enzo, who stood like a granite pillar to my left. “Show him the books.” Enzo threw the ledger and It hit the cracked pavement, the leather binding splitting to spill its contents. The pages fanned open, meticulously inked numbers and empty columns showing. Nearly half a million dollars vanished into thin air. Petrov’s knees gave way, and he slid down the wall, a strangled sob escaping him. “It wasn’t me! I just followed orders! Mr. Bianchi said if I didn’t adjust the figures, he’d… he’d…” “As you ca

Chapter 7: Waffles and DebtsGwenOkay Gwen, breathe. Just breathe. That’s what I kept telling myself, curled up in that stupidly luxurious prison after he left. The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was louder than any of the things I’d broken.My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I could still see it—the way the serrated edge of the butter knife, which I’d sharpened against the damn floor for what felt like hours, had sliced right into his palm. I’d aimed for his throat. I’d meant to kill him, or at least hurt him enough to get the keys and run. But he moved like a snake, his hand coming up so fast I didn’t even see it, just felt the jarring impact as the blade bit into his flesh.But it was his face that haunted me. It wasn’t the rage I expected. There was no cold fury, no violence. It was just… pain. A deep, wounded look in those hazel eyes that made my stomach twist into a knot. He’d looked at me like I was the one who’d betrayed him. Like I’d broken something between

Chapter 9: Watermelon and weightsGwenI didn't sleep that night. How could I? The contract sat on the nightstand in the guest room where I'd been relocated after my dramatic kitchen meltdown, its crisp white pages mocking me with every glance. Twenty-four hours. That's all I had to decide whether to sign my life away to a man I barely knew or take my chances with enemies I'd never even seen.The sun rose too quickly, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that felt obscene given my circumstances. I hadn't changed out of the clothes I'd been wearing when they grabbed me from that alley. My jeans were still stiff with dried blood from when I'd hit the pavement running. My white blouse had a tear at the shoulder. I looked like exactly what I was: a woman who'd stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time and couldn't find her way back out.A soft knock at the door made me jump. Before I could answer, it opened, and a woman in her mid-fifties entered carrying a garment bag and a