The Don's Obsession のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

IsabellaThe last customer finally left at 1:47 AM.Isabella Romano locked the front door of Bella Notte with shaking hands, flipping the weathered "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED." Her reflection stared back at her in the glass dark chestnut hair escaping its bun in wild strands, brown eyes ringed with exhaustion, a sauce stain on her white blouse she hadn't noticed until now. She looked exactly how she felt: completely wrung out."Another wonderful night in paradise," she muttered, turning back to survey the empty restaurant.The dining room that had once been her mother's pride looked tired in the harsh overhead lights. Scuffed floors. Faded paint on the walls. Tables that wobbled no matter how many times she tried to fix them. But it was hers or at least, it was supposed to be. The "Romano's Trattoria" sign outside still bore her family name, even if the bank owned more of it than she did.Isabella grabbed a rag and started wiping down tables, her mind automatically calculating tonight's e

IsabellaIsabella didn't sleep.She tried. God knows she tried. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Dante Valentino's steel-gray stare and heard his parting words echoing in her skull.Three days, Isabella. Don't make me come looking for you.At 6 AM, she gave up on sleep entirely and dragged herself out of bed. Her small apartment above the restaurant felt suffocating, the walls pressing in with the weight of impossible decisions. She made coffee—strong and black, the way her mother used to make it—and sat at her tiny kitchen table with her laptop.If Dante Valentino wanted to make her a proposal, she needed to know exactly who she was dealing with.Her fingers flew across the keyboard. "Dante Valentino New York."The search results loaded, and Isabella's stomach dropped.Hundreds of articles. Dozens of photos. All painting the same picture of a man who'd built an empire on blood and fear.The first article was from seven years ago, the headline was stark and brutal: "VALENT

CHAPTER 5: Forty-Eight HoursIsabellaThe contract sat on Isabella's kitchen table like a coiled snake.She'd been staring at it for six hours now, ever since she'd stumbled upstairs from the restaurant at dawn. The leather folder was still pristine, Dante's neat handwriting on a sticky note attached to the front: Forty-eight hours. Choose wisely.As if there was a choice.Isabella dragged her hands through her hair, wincing when her fingers caught in the tangles. She hadn't showered. Hadn't changed out of yesterday's clothes. The sauce stain on her blouse had dried into a rusty brown patch that looked disturbingly like old blood.Appropriate, considering she was contemplating selling herself to a man who'd killed his own father.Her phone buzzed. Another text from Sofia."Bella! Stop ignoring me! Are you okay? You're scaring me."Guilt twisted in Isabella's stomach. She'd been dodging Sofia's calls since their breakfast yesterday, unable to face those innocent brown eyes while carryi

Isabella"You're getting MARRIED?!"Sofia's shriek was loud enough that everyone in the coffee shop turned to stare. Isabella winced, grabbing her sister's hands across the table before she could launch into full-scale celebration mode."Sofia, inside voice. Please.""Inside voice? INSIDE VOICE?" Sofia was bouncing in her seat, her wide brown eyes shining with tears of happiness. "My sister is marrying Dante Valentino and you want me to use my inside voice?"It had been three days since Isabella signed the contract. Three days of planning a wedding that needed to happen within a week. Three days of learning just how foreign and terrifying Dante's world really was.And now she had to sell the lie to the person she loved most in the world."Tell me everything," Sofia demanded, squeezing Isabella's scarred hands so hard it hurt. "How? When? Oh my God, Bella, he's so gorgeous. And rich. And those eyes, how do you not just melt every time he looks at you?"Isabella's stomach twisted with g

IsabellaThe reception had been a blur of champagne toasts, elaborate courses, and three hundred pairs of eyes watching Isabella's every move. She'd smiled until her face hurt, danced with Dante under crystal chandeliers, and played the role of blissfully happy bride while her heart hammered with anxiety.Now, as the Town Car pulled up to a gleaming tower on the Upper East Side, reality crashed down like a wave.This was it. Her new home. Her prison for the next twelve months."Welcome home, Mrs. Valentino," the driver said, opening her door.Mrs. Valentino. The name still felt foreign.Dante exited from the other side, his wedding tuxedo somehow still perfect despite hours of wear. He came around the car and offered his hand, his steel-gray eyes unreadable in the dim light."Ready?" he asked."No," Isabella admitted, but she took his hand anyway.The lobby was all marble and gold, with doormen in pristine uniforms who nodded respectfully as Dante passed. He led her to a private eleva