Semua Bab The Don’s Lost Queen: Bab 1 - Bab 9

Amara's POVThe first thing I noticed was how quiet the room felt.No cars honking outside. No voices from the neighbors through the thin walls. Just me… and the tiny piece of plastic sitting on the bathroom counter.Two pink lines.I stared at them so long the world seemed to slow down. My heart slammed against my ribs, wild and terrified, but something warm bloomed underneath all that panic. I pressed my palm against my stomach, like my body already knew before my brain could catch up.I was pregnant.For a heartbeat, everything felt soft. I thought about the way Dante would look at me when we were alone. Not the cold, terrifying Don the city whispered about, but the man who touched me like I was the only real thing in his world. Henever promised me anything, never gave me flowers or whispered sweet words, but there were nights when I felt like I belonged to him.And now, there was something growing inside me that tied us together in a way no one could undo.My fingers trembled as

Amara's POVThe soft creak came again. Not loud enough to panic the rational part of me, but sharp enough to send a chill sliding down my spine. I sat completely still on the bed, my breathing shallow.Someone was outside my door.I wasn’t in my small apartment anymore. This wasn’t my quiet little escape city. I was in Luca Romano’s house—a place I barely knew, surrounded by people I didn’t trust. A stranger had saved me earlier that night, but saving me didn’t make him safe.My hand instinctively went to my stomach, pressing lightly, as if my touch alone could shield what was inside me from whatever was on the other side of that door. I glanced toward the lamp on the nightstand but didn’t switch it on. Light would only make me visible. Vulnerable.Another sound—a faint scrape of boots against wood.This time, I moved. Slowly, I slid my legs off the bed, my toes brushing the rug, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. I scanned the room. The only weapon in sight was the metal lamp. Not e

Amara's POVMornings in the Romano estate didn’t start with silence.They started with war being built.The sun climbed lazily over the courtyard, spilling light across the cobblestone path where Luca’s men trained like clockwork—boots striking ground, guns being checked, orders being shouted in low voices. It was the rhythm of power, steady and dangerous.I stood at the window with a mug of coffee warming my hands, my silk robe brushing against the tops of my thighs. Alessio’s soft laughter carried through the hallway behind me, cutting through the steel of the world outside like a beam of light.Five years ago, I’d woken up to loneliness.Now I woke up to this—power wrapped in quiet, and a little boy with Dante Moretti’s eyes.“Mama!” Alessio’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by quick footsteps.I turned just in time for him to barrel into the room, holding a toy plane in one hand and dragging one of the house cats with the other. His dark hair was a mess, his little tuxedo

The sound of guns being cocked always hits the same way—it freezes the air. Makes everything too sharp, too quiet, like the whole world’s holding its breath waiting for the first drop of blood.That’s what it felt like standing in the middle of Luca’s courtyard, caught between the man who had once destroyed me and the man who’d taught me how to rebuild.Luca’s men aimed steady, their hands sure. Marco didn’t flinch. And Dante—he just stood there in that dark tailored suit, his expression carved from calm fury, like he owned the ground we stood on.His eyes were still the same. Storm-gray. Unforgiving. The kind of eyes that could make a person forget how to breathe.But I wasn’t that person anymore.“Call them off,” I said to Luca quietly.He didn’t look at me. “Not a chance.”“Luca.”His voice stayed low, cold. “He’s trespassing on my land.”“I know,” I said, stepping forward. “But this isn’t how this ends.”Luca’s jaw flexed. “He’s lucky I haven’t ended it already.”Dante’s smirk fli

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.No matter how many times I told myself to breathe, to think, to stay calm, they just wouldn’t stop.The message on my phone glowed like fire.He’s with me.Those three words didn’t just cut through me—they killed something inside me.Luca was already calling out orders, his voice steady but sharp. Sofia stormed into the room with two guns slung at her sides, and even through the chaos, the world around me blurred.I couldn’t hear. Couldn’t think.All I saw was my son’s face.Alessio’s laughter from this morning.His little hands clinging to my fingers.His sleepy voice asking, “Mama, can I have pancakes again?”And now he was gone.“Amara!” Luca’s voice snapped me back, loud, commanding. “Look at me.”I blinked, realizing I was still holding my phone like it might turn back time.“He has him,” I whispered. “He has my son.”Luca took the phone gently from my hand, reading the message. His jaw tightened, his gray-green eyes darkening. “No name. No number