Forceful pleasures: Subjected to the Don のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 8

Chapter OneNella’s POVTallia hated sitting still.“Don’t move,” I warned, narrowing my eyes at her.“I’ve been sitting for thirty minutes,” she complained, trying not to laugh. “If this portrait makes me look ugly, I’m suing you.”“You’re already ugly,” I replied calmly.She gasped. “Rude.”I smiled and dipped my brush into the soft amber shade. The late afternoon light from the New York apartment window rested gently on her face. It made her skin glow.Tallia is so beautiful. My brush moved slowly across the canvas. I didn’t rush when I painted. Painting was the only time my thoughts didn’t fight each other. The only time the noise inside my head went quiet.Tallia wasn’t just my friend.She was the only person who truly knew me.When I was thirteen, Spain turned into a nightmare.I still remember the sound of gunshots outside our Madrid home. The shouting. The glass shattering. My father’s men running through the halls. My mother pulling me down to the floor.I remember Antonio’s

Brenda’s pov“Such a poor delusional girl,” I scoffed.An evil smirk made its way to my lips as soon as I closed the door to Nella’s room.She must think I love her so much that I would actually care or feel any ounce of pity for her and the life her father chose for her.I heard a gunshot; it must have been Vito’s business partners paying obeisance to him.Most of the men were long gone by now. I found Lucas DeFalco. The man whose voice made me wet.“Hi. Darling,” He winked at me, dragging me by my apron, into the laundry. Bolting the door as soon as we stepped in.“Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” his husky voice made my body shudder in excitement.Tall, lean, silver threading through his dark hair now, but still handsome in that dangerous, lived-in way. Lucas was the same man who used to sit at Vito’s table, laughing over cigars and grappa. The same man who became Vito’s bitterest enemy the night his wife died in that “car accident” Vito swore he had not

Nella’s povIt was Lucas.Papa’s old friend.Funny how he hadn’t shown his face at the funeral. For one stupid second, I thought maybe he was here to rescue me.“You want to run from fate, huh?” He sucked his teeth, the sound wet and mocking. “Allow me to help you.”He wasn’t on our side.He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.I scanned for an exit, but we were boxed in — flashy cars gleaming under the headlights, engines idling like predators. Strong hands yanked us out of the cab. Rough. Efficient. Wrists zip-tied behind our backs, we were shoved into the lead SUV. The door slammed, and I lifted my head to look out, but the windows were black. Tinted. Impenetrable.The drive was silent except for Tallia’s ragged breathing beside me. I kept my head down, trying to count turns, memorize distances—anything useful, but fear blurred everything.We descended into an underground parking garage beneath what looked like a luxury car dealership. Rows of Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and Bentleys

Nella’s POVThe dining room felt too big. Too quiet. Candle flames danced on the long mahogany table, throwing soft shadows across walls lined with dark oil paintings I hadn’t noticed before. The air smelled faintly of cedar and expensive wine — his scent, already familiar in the worst way.I had been given time to wash the blood and dirt from my skin, to change into the soft gray sweater and leggings left on the chaise. My hair was still damp from the shower. My wrists were red-ringed from the zip ties, but the pain felt distant compared to the hole in my chest where Tallia used to be.I sensed him, I forced myself not to look in his direction but my neck did the whole opposite.I looked like I’d been standing there waiting for him to join me.He filled the doorway.At least 6’7”, brawny, broad-shouldered, his black shirt stretched taut across his chest and arms like it had been tailored to showcase every hard line of muscle.His sleeves rolled to his elbows revealing forearms cord