Todos os capítulos de The Don's Dirty Obsession : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Cedric spent the next week drowning in falcone’s world. Luxury and lies wrapped around him like silk chains. He sat in on business meetings in the penthouse, silent at first, watching hard men discuss shipments of guns and drugs and payoffs that made his stomach turn. He learned the architecture of an empire built on blood and fear. Falcone started asking his opinion on the dog-fighting raids. Let him sit in on talks about expanding the vet clinic. Even called him “my partner” in front of his lieutenants, who shifted uncomfortably and avoided Cedric’s eyes.At night, though, everything else disappeared.Falcone fucked him like he was still proving a point. Deep. Slow. Relentless. Hands pinning Cedric’s wrists above his head, mouth on his throat, hips rolling in that punishing rhythm that made Cedric forget his own name. Cedric came apart every single time, moaning and shaking and hating himself for how fucking good it felt. He’d bite his lip until it bled just to keep from begging for

Cedric sat rigid in the back of the black SUV as it sped through Staten Island streets. The leather seats smelled like cigar smoke and old blood. Dante Falcone lounged across from him like he owned the night, legs stretched out, one arm draped casually over the seat back. His smile never reached his eyes.The safe house was a crumbling old mansion tucked behind high stone walls and overgrown trees. Inside, the air was thick with dust, gun oil, and the low murmur of dangerous men. Dante’s soldiers stared at Cedric like they were already calculating how much he’d be worth in pieces. No one spoke. They just watched.“Relax, kid,” Dante said, leading him into a dimly lit study with dark wood panels and heavy furniture. He poured two generous glasses of whiskey and slid one across the scarred table. “You look like you’re waiting for someone to put a bullet in your skull. Sit down. Drink. We’re just talking.”Cedric stayed standing for a long moment, every instinct screaming at him to run.

Gunfire exploded through the penthouse like thunder.Falcone moved faster than Cedric thought possible. He tackled Cedric hard, shoving him behind the heavy couch as bullets ripped through the air. Glass from the floor-to-ceiling windows shattered everywhere. Someone screamed. The sound of automatic weapons filled the room with deafening chaos.“Bedroom!” falcone barked, shoving a loaded gun into Cedric’s hands. “Panic room behind the closet. Go. Now!”Cedric gripped the gun, heart slamming against his ribs. The wire Dante had forced on him was still taped to his chest, recording every gunshot, every shout. “I’m not leaving you!”Falcone’s face twisted with fury and raw fear. “This isn’t a fucking rom-com, Cedric! Go!”He shoved Cedric toward the hallway and turned back, firing at Dante’s men with deadly precision. Cedric ran, but not toward the bedroom. He circled around through the kitchen, keeping low, glass crunching under his shoes. His hands shook so badly he almost dropped the

Cedric stood outside Marcus’s apartment door, chest tight, the gun falcone had given him tucked into the back of his waistband like a dirty secret. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The hallway smelled like old carpet and takeout. Normal shit. The kind of building where people lived normal lives and didn’t have their entire existence destroyed by two obsessed psychopaths fighting over them.He picked the lock in under two minutes. The door clicked open into a modest, painfully neat apartment. Everything in its place. Clean counters. Folded laundry. A fucking calendar on the wall with gym days marked in red. Nothing like the blood-soaked chaos of falcone’s penthouse. It made Cedric want to smash everything.He moved straight to the living room wall. The framed photo hung exactly where he expected, Marcus and his father in uniform, both smiling like perfect American heroes. Cedric took it down and set it on the couch. Behind it was the safe.A sticky note inside the top drawer of the nea

The penthouse was still a disaster zone when they returned. Broken glass crunched under their shoes with every step. Bullet holes dotted the walls like ugly scars. Dark blood stains marked the floor where men had fallen. Linda Santos stood in the middle of it all, arms crossed tight over her chest, refusing to sit down or accept any comfort. She stared at falcone like she was calculating exactly where to put the knife if she got the chance.“You killed my husband,” she said flatly. Her voice didn’t shake. It was pure steel.Falcone didn’t flinch. He met her eyes directly and nodded once. “I did. He was going to sell Lily to a pedophile ring in Dubai. I have the emails. I have the bank transfers. I have the witness who heard him make the call.”Linda’s face crumbled for a second, pain flashing across her features, but she caught herself quickly. “You expect me to thank you for that? For murdering the father of my children?”“I expect nothing,” falcone said quietly, voice steady. “Your