Lahat ng Kabanata ng CLAIMED BY THE DON: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

ELENA’S POVI woke to darkness. Not the kind of darkness that comes with nightfall, but the suffocating kind that pressed against my eyes. A blindfold dug into my skin, rough fabric scraping each time I moved. My wrists ached, bound behind my back with something biting and sharp. Rope, maybe. Metal. I don’t know. All I knew was that I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move, and my chest burned with fear. Voices echoed around me—men, deep and gravelly, laughing trading words I couldn’t quite catch. Somewhere closer, I heard a girl sobbing, a sharp cry muffled by a slap. Panic clawed at my throat. Where was I? What are they planning on doing with me? My breath quickened. The memories came flooding back. That face. Matteo’s face. The man I had loved for two years. I still can’t believe that he would do this to me. I know he was just spitting bullshit when he said he would come back for me. Matteo had never worked a fucking day in his life, how was he going to find five hundred thousand euros

ELENA’S POV“You’re still as loud as ever.” His voice was smooth, arrogant, the kind of voice that didn’t ask, it declared. The words wrapped around me like a noose, pulling tighter with every second I stood there in his shadow. Enzo—Il Diavolo. The man who I’d saved five years ago. The man who had thrown five million euros like it was loose change just to claim me. My pulse pounded against my ribs, panic and fury crashing together until it burned my lungs to breathe. I jerked against the hands holding me, shoving, scratching, clawing at anything I could reach. “Let me go!” I screamed. “You can’t keep me here against my will. You don’t own me!” Enzo didn’t flinch. He sat sprawled in his leather chair, a glass of whiskey balanced between his fingers like the world belonged to him. Cold eyes, dark and merciless, dragged over me in a way that stripped me bare. He didn’t even bother standing. Without a glance, he flicked his wrist at the men stationed by the door. “Leave us.” The

ELENA’S POV I couldn’t sleep. Not because the sheets were rough or the bed was foreign—but because every time I closed my eyes, that damn portrait stared back at me from the wall. My face. My hair. My eyes. Every stroke of the brush captured me too perfectly, too intimately, like the artist had studied me in secret. But how? How could Enzo have a painting of me in his house when we’d only met briefly the night I’d rescued him and just for a few minutes after he had regained consciousness and ran off moments later? How did he remember every aspect of my face? The thought made my stomach twist. I turned on the lamp, the golden light bleeding over the room, and there it was again—my reflection in oil and canvas. My smile, softer than I remembered. My gaze, warmer. It wasn’t just a portrait. It was an obsession. I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers trembling as I pressed them to my forehead. “What the hell is this place?” I whispered. The silence swallowed my voice whole. The nig

ELENA’S POV The room was too quiet. Too heavy. Too full of memories I didn’t ask to remember. I sat on the bed, knees pulled to my chest, eyes locked on the window even though I couldn’t see anything beyond the glass. The sun had already set, but I didn’t move to switch the lights on. The darkness felt safer—less judgmental. The whole day had been a blur. Since the argument in the dining room, since the way Enzo’s voice had brushed against my skin like heat, I hadn’t been able to think straight. I couldn’t even eat. Every time I tried, the food turned to ash in my mouth. I didn’t belong here. But if not here… where? I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting the tears. I hated crying, but it was becoming second nature these days. The truth hit me hard—there was nowhere to go. Matteo had made sure of that. My chest tightened as his name echoed in my head. The man I’d once called love. The man who’d kissed me after every lie. Who’d sworn he’d protect me while he was gamblin

ELENA’S POV The door slammed shut behind us, sealing the world outside. Enzo’s voice sliced through the dim air, low and mocking. “Tell me, baby girl, what was that attitude downstairs?” My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird desperate for escape. I backed away, one hesitant step, then another, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet that muffled every sound. The room swallowed me whole—vast, oppressive, cloaked in shadows for a switch near the door and flipped it with a casual flick. A single red bulb ignited overhead, casting a bloody glow that bled across the walls, turning everything into shades of sin and secrets. I retreated further, my eyes darting wildly to avoid his piercing stare. Another step back, and hidden sensors triggered seamlessly. More red lights flickered on, one by one, like wicked eyes awakening in the darkness. The room revealed itself in intoxicating pulses of crimson, each new glow unveiling horrors and temptations I’d only read in dark rom