All Chapters of CLAIMED BY THE DON: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

135 Chapters

Chapter 1: Shattered Promises

ELENA’S POV The rain came down in sheets, hammering against the hospital windows as if even the sky had lost patience with this city. My shift had ended hours late, and every muscle in my body screamed from standing too long, smiling too hard, caring for patients who barely noticed me. My scrubs clung damp to my skin, and my shoes squelched faintly with every step I took across the hospital courtyard toward the waiting cab. I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. But not my bed. Ours. The one place that felt like sanctuary. Matteo. The thought of him was the only thread holding me together as I pushed open the cab door and slid inside. My chest ached with relief at the idea of walking into his arms, hearing his stupid jokes, letting his warmth drown out the echoes of Dr. Gavin’s biting remarks and the endless complaints of patients who thought nurses were nothing but disposable servants. He was my peace. My reprieve. The one good thing I still had left in this world. Th

Chapter 2: The Auction

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

Chapter 3: The Devil Returns

ENZO’S POVTwo hundred thousand. The moment I said it, silence devoured the room. The air snapped taut, the weight of my voice dragging every pair of eyes toward me. Glasses clinked against tables, chairs scraped. The auctioneer froze mid-gesture, his jaw slack, his hand trembling where it hovered above his little hammer. I didn’t need to look to know what they saw: a ghost made flesh. I stepped forward from the shadows, every stride deliberate, the soles of my polished shoes echoing like gunshots across marble. And then, because I fucking could, I slid into the empty chair beside Dante Moretti himself, unhurried, deliberate, as though the whole damn world had been waiting for me to sit. In truth, they had. The fool stiffened like he’d swallowed glass. His expensive suit couldn’t mask the way his shoulders coiled tight, or how his jaw ticked when I smirked at him. I leaned back casually, one arm thrown over the chair, the other adjusting my cufflink. “Don’t stop on my account,” I

Chapter 4: What the Devil Owns

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

Chapter 5: Welcome From Hell

ENZO’S POVThe mansion was silent except for the low hum of the monitor in front of me. A live feed flickered on the screen—the familiar courtyard of Don Antonio’s old villa. Now owned by the same bastards who betrayed him. His sons and my so-called brothers in name, traitors in truth. Giovanni and Marcini DeLuca. I leaned back in my leather chair, the faint scent of cigar smoke curling around the edges of the room. My study that operated as my in-house office was dim, the walls washed in shadows except for the glow of the screens. Every feed on the left monitor showed their courtyard. Guards smoking and laughing. Women chatting and sipping tea. Cars glinting under the Italian moon. “Boss,” Matteo said beside me, his voice low, cautious. “Everything’s in position. The package is armed. We’re just waiting for your final signal.” I didn’t look at him. My eyes stayed on the screen, on the two black cars pulling into the courtyard. “DeLuca‘a offsprings are back,” I murmured. “Figli mal

The Devil’s Breath

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

The Devil’s Breaking Point

ENZO’S POV They called me the devil. But devils don’t cry, neither do they break. Blood clung to my hands like second skin as I walked through the hallway, each step echoing against the marble floor. The scent of iron and gunpowder followed me like a curse. I could still feel the heat of the last man’s breath on my neck before I slit it. My boots left faint streaks of red behind me—a reminder of the chaos I’d just crawled out from. When I entered my bedroom, silence welcomed me. The kind that felt like judgment. The mirror stood across from me, tall and cruel, reflecting a man I didn’t recognize. My shirt was soaked, the dark fabric stiff with blood. My knuckles were bruised, my face hollowed. I should’ve felt victorious. Instead, I felt hollow. I stripped off my shirt, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy slap. My reflection glared back, dead-eyed. Then my gaze caught the two photographs on the table by the mirror—one of me and Don Antonio, the other of me and Isabella. The

His Impossible Request

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

The Devil’s Clause

ENZO’S POV The fork scraped porcelain, the only sound in the dining room besides the low crackle of the fireplace. I carved another slice of steak, blood pooling beneath the blade, and forced it between my teeth. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. The meat tasted like ash, but I ate anyway—ritual, control, the illusion that I still commanded my own body. Five years. Five goddamn years since Don Antonio’s lawyer slid that will across the mahogany desk and said the words that chained me tighter than any bullet ever could. “Upon marriage, Lorenzo DeLuca inherits DeLuca’s estate in full. Should he remain unwed by his thirty-second year, the holdings revert to the next blood kin.” Marcini and Giovanni had read the same clause. They’d smiled when they poisoned the old man. They’d laughed when they put two rounds in Isabella’s belly. They’d toasted my grave because they thought a dead man couldn’t marry. They were wrong. I stabbed the steak again. The knife slipped, nicked my thumb. A bead of bloo

The Devil’s Hell

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

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