All Chapters of THE DON'S DOCTOR : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

The car door slammed shut beside me. Frank slid into the driver’s seat, blood still drying along his jaw. The engine roared to life, and the building disappeared behind us as he pulled onto the road. I pressed my hands against my thighs, trying to steady them, but the adrenaline was still racing through my veins. The images wouldn’t stop replaying in my mind—the gunshots, the bodies on the concrete, the moment the gun had been pointed at me.Frank drove like a man who knew every inch of the road without needing to look at it. One hand on the wheel. The other rested loosely near the gun on the console.His face was calm again. If someone had stepped into the car right now, they would never have guessed what had just happened in that building.Blood had dried in a thin line along his jaw where the punch had split the skin. The cut had stopped bleeding, but the edges were still very red.The road stretched ahead of us, dark and empty. For a while, the only sounds were the engine and the

I turned the knob, allowing the door to click shut leaving me with nothing but the sound of my own breathing. I shoved the notebook under my arm, pressing it hard against my rib, stuck hidden beneath my jacket as I slipped through the doorway. Instead of heading up, I veered toward the kitchen, needing a glass of water I didn't really want. I stared into the glass of water, tracing the condensation on its surface, as if the answers were floating in the clear liquid. I pulled the notebook out just an inch, flipping to the page. A heavy footstep hit the floor with a sound like a gunshot. I jumped and blinked. "What are you staring at." I looked up and found his Marco staring at me from the doorway. My heart performed a violent kick against my ribs. I slid the notebook back into my waistband and turned. There was a glass of amber liquid in one hand, his suit jacket draped over his shoulder. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened, the top button of his shirt undone. He looked lik

I squeezed my eyes shut, my teeth digging into my inner cheek to tether myself to reality. His thumb moved in a slow, agonizingly heavy circle that centered all the heat in my body into one single, pulsing point. My head hit the wall with a soft thud."I... please," I broke, the word catching in my throat tight with need.He didn't stop. He leaned in, waiting, his eyes dark with triumph. "Is that it, Jane? Just please?"The arrogance in his voice sparked a sudden, white-hot flash of frustration through me. If he wanted my words, I’d drown him in them. I surged forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and hooking one leg firmly around his hip to drag him flush against me."You want me to beg?" I hissed against his jaw, my voice trembling but sharp. "Fine. I want you so bad I can't breathe. I’m dying. Is that enough? Are you happy now that you've ruined me?"The air in the small space seemed to vanish, sucked out by the weight of my words. He froze, his triumph flickering into somethi

The zipper of my ruined silk dress caught against the fabric, a sharp snag that sounded deafening in the empty bedroom. I didn’t care. I yanked it up, ignoring the way the torn seam exposed a slice of my thigh.I didn’t look in the mirror. I didn’t need to see the dark bruises blooming on my collarbone or the ghost of Frank’s touch written in red flushes across my skin. Elena wanted me to slink away in the dark, carrying the scent of her son like a brand of shame. But my spine, once collapsed under her cruelty, was rigid now. I stepped out of the bedroom, my bare feet sinking into the hallway carpet. I had abandoned my heels; they were weapons Elena had thrown, and I refused to stumble on my way to the truth. The house, which had been a sanctuary, a quiet fortress where Frank’s murmurs against my ear made the rest of the world vanish, now felt like the ribs of a great beast that had swallowed me whole.As I approached the staircase, the muffled voices grew distinct. Elena hadn't li

Before Enzo could take the insult any further, Frank raised a hand, his expression softening as he turned his attention away from the angry father and looked directly at the young woman sitting across from him. "Layla," Frank said, his voice dropping into a calm, respectful tone. "Look at me." Layla paused, her manicured fingers freezing against her diamond ring as she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. "You are an exceptionally beautiful woman," Frank said, and though the words sent a tiny squeeze through my heart, his tone was entirely devoid of lust. It was the voice of a man stating an undeniable fact. "You are intelligent, you are mafia royalty, and I am certain there is a long line of men in this city who would give everything they own just to have a fraction of your attention. You deserve a husband who looks at you like you are the only thing that matters in this world. You deserve a man who is entirely whole, and entirely yours." Frank took a slow, heavy breath, leaning