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Home / Mafia / The Don's sinful obsession / Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

All Chapters of The Don's sinful obsession : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

22 Chapters

chapter 11

~~~Luca's POV~~~The basement feed flickers on my screen like a heartbeat I can't look away from.I have been sitting in my office for hours. Maybe longer. The whiskey in my glass has gone warm, the ice long melted, but I don't pour another. I just watch. The camera in the corner of the basement is old, the image grainy, but I can see her clearly enough.Anne sits on the mattress in the corner. Her back is against the concrete wall. Her knees are pulled to her chest. Her bandaged arm rests in her lap like something broken that she doesn't know how to fix.She hasn't moved in hours.Not to pace, cry or even bang on the door like I had expected. Like I'd wanted.She just... sits.I lean back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me, and watch her do nothing.This is what you wanted, I tell myself. You wanted her broken. You wanted her to suffer. You wanted her to feel every moment of pain she caused you.But she isn't breaking the way I expected.The Anne I remember would have screa

chapter 12

~~~Monic's POV~~~The Romani mansion has never felt like mine.I have been coming here for years. First as a guest, then as a potential bride, now as Luca's fiancée in name if not in practice. But the marble floors are always too cold beneath my heels. The hallways always too long. The portraits on the walls — generations of Romani men with dead eyes and cruel mouths — always watch me like I am an intruder.I lift my chin. Walk faster.I am not an intruder. I am the future Don's wife. I belong here more than anyone.Then why do I feel like I'm drowning?The servants greet me with the usual deference. Heads bowed. Voices soft. "Signorina Monic. Good morning, Signorina Monic. Can I bring you anything, Signorina Monic?"But I notice the whispers. The sideways glances. The way conversations stop when I enter a room and resume — quieter, more careful — when I pass.Something has changed. Something I haven't been told.I find Carmela in the east wing, directing a young maid on the proper wa

chapter 13

~~~Anne's POV~~~The fever comes for me in the night.I don't know when it starts. Time moves strangely in the basement. Hours bleed into each other. The single bulb overhead never turns off, so I can't tell day from night, can't track the passing of anything except my own deterioration.First comes the cold.I have been cold since the alley. Since Lucinda's basement. Since Luca dragged me out of that car and locked me in this concrete tomb. But this is different. This cold comes from inside. It settles in my bones, my blood, my breath. I pull my knees tighter to my chest, wrap my arms around myself, but nothing helps.Then comes the heat.It crashes over me in waves. One moment I am shivering, my teeth chattering so hard I think they might crack. The next I am burning, my skin too tight, my blood too hot, my brain cooking inside my skull.I stop eating. Not because I am trying to die. Because I can't. The thought of food makes my stomach turn. The smell of the bread Carmela leaves on

chapter 13

~~~Anne's POV~~~The fever comes for me in the night.I don't know when it starts. Time moves strangely in the basement. Hours bleed into each other. The single bulb overhead never turns off, so I can't tell day from night, can't track the passing of anything except my own deterioration.First comes the cold.I have been cold since the alley. Since Lucinda's basement. Since Luca dragged me out of that car and locked me in this concrete tomb. But this is different. This cold comes from inside. It settles in my bones, my blood, my breath. I pull my knees tighter to my chest, wrap my arms around myself, but nothing helps.Then comes the heat.It crashes over me in waves. One moment I am shivering, my teeth chattering so hard I think they might crack. The next I am burning, my skin too tight, my blood too hot, my brain cooking inside my skull.I stop eating. Not because I am trying to die. Because I can't. The thought of food makes my stomach turn. The smell of the bread Carmela leaves on

chapter 14

~~~Luca's POV~~~The basement is cold. Damper than I remember. The single bulb overhead flickers, casting yellow shadows on the concrete walls. It smells like mildew and blood and something else. Something that reminds me of her.Anne lies on the mattress in the corner, curled into herself, her bandaged arm pressed against her chest. Her eyes are closed, but I can tell she isn't sleeping. Her breathing is too fast. Her fingers twitch against the fabric of her dress.I stand in the doorway for a moment, watching her.She looks smaller than I remember. Thinner. The bruises on her face have spread, turned purple and green. Her split lip has scabbed over but hasn't healed clean. Dark circles shadow her eyes like she hasn't slept in weeks.You did this, a voice says in my head. You locked her down here. You left her.I push the voice away."Anne."She doesn't open her eyes. Doesn't move.I walk closer. Crouch beside her. Reach out and press my hand against her forehead.Her skin is burning

chapter 15

~~~Anne's POV~~~The ceiling is wrong.I wake to white sheets and pale light and the smell of him. His cologne. His skin. His presence thick in the air like smoke.I am not in the basement.My body recognizes the bed before my mind does. The mattress is soft, not the hard concrete I grew used to. The pillow is thick beneath my head. The blanket is warm, pulled up to my chin like someone tucked me in.Luca's room.Panic slices through the fog of fever.I try to sit up. My arms shake. My head spins. The room tilts sideways, and I fall back against the pillow, gasping."You're awake."His voice comes from across the room. I turn my head. Luca sits in a chair by the window, his legs crossed, his hands resting on the armrests. He looks like he has been there for hours. Maybe he has.I hate that he is watching me. Hate that I am in his bed. Hate that my body is too weak to run."What am I doing here?" My voice comes out cracked. Hoarse."You were sick. The basement wasn't helping.""So you

chapter 16

~~~Monic's POV~~~The iron gates of the Romani estate are closed.They are never closed. Not to me. I have walked through them a hundred times, a thousand, without slowing, without announcing myself, without anyone questioning my right to be here.Today, a guard steps into my path."Signorina Monic." His voice is respectful, but his body blocks the entrance. "The Don is not receiving visitors."I laugh. "I'm not a visitor. I'm his fiancée.""The Don's orders.""Let me through.""I can't."I look at him. Really look. He is young — new, maybe. He doesn't know me. Doesn't know what I am capable of."Do you know who I am?" I ask."Yes, Signorina.""Then you know that in a few months, I will be the Don's wife. I will be the woman giving orders in this house. And men like you — men who stand in my way — will be the first to go."His face doesn't change. "The Don's orders."I feel my face grow hot. My hands curl into fists."I am not a visitor," I say again, slower this time, like I am expla

chapter 17

~~~Luca's POV~~~The file is thin.Matteo lays it on my desk with the kind of care men use when they are handing you something they know will make you angry. Two pages. Maybe three. Not nearly enough for the days he has been searching."That's all?" I ask."That's all I could find, Boss."I open the file. Scan the pages. Bank records. Rental agreements. A work permit under the name Lia Perry. Nothing before six years ago. Nothing linking her to anyone. Nothing linking her to anywhere.No family. No friends. No past."Her life started the day she came back to Italy," I say. "Before that, nothing.""Someone erased her," Matteo agrees. "Or she erased herself."I look up. "Which one?"Matteo hesitates. That is unlike him. He has worked for me for fifteen years. He has learned to speak hard truths without flinching."Both, maybe. She had help. Someone with resources. Someone who knew how to make a person disappear."I think about the fire. The burnt house. The body that wasn't hers.She ha

chapter 18

~~~Anne's POV~~~The door clicks shut behind him, and nothing about me feels safer.If anything, it feels worse. Because now I know. He isn't guessing anymore. He is searching. Actively. Methodically. With resources I can't imagine and reach I can't escape.Austin.The name echoes in my head like a warning bell.I lie in his bed, in his room, in his house, and stare at the ceiling. The sheets smell like him. The pillows smell like him. Everything around me is him, and I can't breathe.He is going to find out. He is going to find you, Austin. And then—I can't finish the thought. Don't want to.I press my hands against my eyes. Try to stop the tears. Fail.Mommy's sorry, baby. Mommy's so sorry.---Carmela comes later.She moves quietly, the way she always does, her footsteps soft on the marble floor. She carries a tray — soup, bread, tea — and sets it on the nightstand without a word.I watch her.She doesn't look at me. That isn't unusual. Carmela has never been warm. But today, ther

chapter 19

~~~Lucinda's POV~~~The report arrives in the evening, as they always do.I sit in my sitting room, a glass of wine in my hand, the fire crackling in the hearth. Outside, the sun is setting over the Romani estate, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. Inside, I am already thinking ten moves ahead.I unfold the paper. Read it once. Twice.Luca's investigation has shifted. He is no longer focused solely on Anne's disappearance. He is digging into her past. Her connections. Her movements before she came to Italy.I set down the paper. Pick up my wine. Take a slow sip.He is beginning to question.That is dangerous.I have spent years building the narrative — the maid who seduced the Don, the thief who betrayed the family, the woman who killed herself in a fire rather than face the consequences. It is a beautiful story. Clean. Believable.But stories only work if no one looks too closely.Luca is looking.No matter, I tell myself. I have dealt with worse.I stand. Walk to the wind

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