All Chapters of THE DON'S MISSING PIECE : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The explosion echoed in Cassandra's ears long after the world went silent.She lay on the cold ground, her body pressed into the damp grass, her face buried in Dante's chest. His arms were wrapped around her—tight, desperate, shielding her from the debris that rained down around them like fire from the sky.She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move.All she could hear was the ringing in her ears—a high-pitched whine that drowned out everything else. All she could feel was the weight of Dante's body on top of hers, the warmth of his blood seeping through her clothes, the trembling of his hands as they clutched her."Cassandra." His voice was muffled, distant. "Cassandra, are you okay?"She tried to speak. Her throat was dry. Her lips wouldn't move."Cassandra!" His hands cupped her face, tilting it up toward his. His eyes were wild—frantic, terrified. "Look at me. Are you hurt? Is the baby—""I'm okay." The words came out as a whisper. "I'm okay."He stared at her for a long

Cassandra sat in the back of the car, her hand pressed to her stomach, her eyes fixed on the passing trees.The explosion had left her shaken—not just physically, but emotionally. She'd almost died. Her baby had almost died. And Elena was still out there, still hunting them, still trying to destroy everything they'd built.She was tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of being afraid.Dante sat beside her, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He hadn't spoken since they'd left the safe house. His body was rigid with fury—cold, controlled, deadly."I'm going to kill her," he said quietly.Cassandra turned to look at him. His eyes were dark, hollow."I know," she said.---Marco found the lead that afternoon.A phone call—traced to a small cabin in the mountains. Isolated. Remote. No escape.Dante gathered his men in the study. Evan, Adrian, Daniel, Marco. The room was tense. The air was thick with determination."This is it," Dante said. "We go in tonight. We e

Grace wouldn't sleep.She'd been crying for hours—not the soft, hungry cry from before, but a piercing, relentless wail that seemed to echo through the entire house. Cassandra had tried everything. Feeding. Changing. Rocking. Singing. Nothing worked.She was exhausted. Her body still ached from the birth. Her eyes burned with fatigue. Her mind was foggy.Dante was beside her, just as exhausted. He'd been taking turns with her—walking Grace around the room, singing softly, begging her to sleep. His voice was hoarse. His eyes were red."She hates us," he muttered."She doesn't hate us. She's a baby.""She's a tyrant."---At 5 AM, Cassandra broke down.She was sitting on the floor of the nursery, her back against the wall, tears streaming down her face. Grace was still crying in her arms. The sound was like a knife through her skull."I can't do this," she whispered. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."Dante found her there. He sat beside her, his back against the wall, his shoulder brush

Dante took Cassandra to look at properties by the lake.They'd been searching for weeks—ever since that night on the porch when he'd promised her a real home. He'd made calls, talked to real estate agents, narrowed down the list. Now, finally, they were here.The first house was too big. A sprawling mansion with more rooms than they could ever fill. Cassandra walked through it, her footsteps echoing against the marble floors, and shook her head."Too cold," she said. "Too empty."Dante nodded. He didn't argue.---The second house was too small.A tiny cabin with one bedroom and a kitchen that barely fit two people. Cassandra stood in the doorway, looking at the cramped space, and laughed."We'd kill each other within a week."Dante grinned. "Probably."---The third house was perfect.It was a small cottage on the edge of the water—wooden, warm, surrounded by trees. The paint was peeling. The floors creaked. The roof needed work. But it had something the other houses didn't.It had s

Cassandra stared at the text.Congratulations on the baby. Too bad she won't live to see her first birthday.Her blood ran cold. Her hands trembled. Her heart stopped.She showed Dante. His face went pale—then dark with fury."He's not going to touch her," Dante said. His voice was ice. "I won't let him."---Dante made a decision.No more waiting. No more traps. He was going after Donald. Tonight. And this time, he wasn't coming back until Donald was dead or in custody.Cassandra insisted on coming.Dante refused. He told her it was too dangerous. He told her she needed to stay with Grace. He told her he couldn't risk her.She wouldn't back down."I'm not letting you face him alone," she said. "Not after what he said about Grace.""Cassandra—""I'm coming."They devised a strategy.Marco, Evan, Adrian, and Daniel would provide backup. Samantha would stay with Grace at the hospital. Dante and Cassandra would confront Donald together.---Evan tracked Donald to an abandoned warehouse o