All Chapters of THE DON'S MISSING PIECE : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The mansion was too quiet.Cassandra woke to pale gray light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The ceiling was wrong. The sheets were wrong. Everything was wrong.Then she remembered.The apartment. The bodies. The black SUV.Dante Moretti.She sat up slowly, her hand going to her throat. The necklace was still there, warm against her skin. She'd worn it to bed, clutching it like a lifeline.A soft knock made her jump."Miss?" A voice from the hallway. "I've brought breakfast."Cassandra pulled on a robe and opened the door. A young maid stood there, her eyes downcast, a tray in her hands."Thank you," Cassandra said. "You don't have to call me miss."The maid didn't respond. She just set the tray on the table and left without another word.Cassandra stared at the closed door. Everyone in this house was afraid. Afraid of Dante. Afraid of his father. Afraid of the family that controlled everything.She was afraid too.---The tray he

Sleep wouldn't come.Cassandra lay in her enormous bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. The attack. The gunfire. Dante's body shielding hers as they ran through the mansion. The way his hand had gripped hers, firm and unyielding.She couldn't stop thinking about him.She threw off the covers and padded through the dark hallways. The mansion was silent, the security team stationed outside. Her bare feet were silent against the cold marble.She found him in the kitchen.Dante stood at the counter, his back to her. His shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open. His hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead. In the dim light, he looked different. Softer. More human.He turned at the sound of her footsteps. His eyes met hers."Can't sleep?" he asked."No." She stepped closer. "You either.""I don't sleep much." He poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Too many things to worry about."Cassandra moved toward him. "What do you worry about?""Everything." His voice was quiet. "The busin

"Dead?"Cassandra's voice was barely a whisper. She stared at Marco, her face pale."Car accident," Marco confirmed. "Hit and run. No witnesses. Professional job."Dante's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides."Whoever is behind this," he said slowly, "is cleaning up their tracks."Cassandra sank onto the nearest chair. Her legs wouldn't hold her anymore. Every lead was disappearing. Every person who could help them was being eliminated."We need to find another way," she said. "Someone else who can decrypt the chip.""There's no one else." Dante's voice was flat. "He was the only one I trusted."Cassandra looked down at the necklace in her hand. The microchip was still inside, its secrets locked away.What did you hide, Mom? she wondered. What was worth dying for?She had no answers.---Cassandra retreated to her room. She couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in.She needed to find Rosa. Needed to make sure she was okay.She left her room and w

The mansion was chaos.Shattered glass littered the marble floors. Bullet holes dotted the walls. Staff members huddled in corners, their faces pale with fear. Dante's men moved through the rooms, securing the property, checking every corner.Cassandra watched from the staircase, her arms wrapped around herself. She felt numb. Hollow. Like she was watching everything from outside her own body.Rosa was safe. That was what mattered. Rosa was alive.But at what cost?She retreated to her room and closed the door. The silence was deafening. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.They'll keep coming, she thought. They'll never stop.The text message replayed in her mind. Next time, we won't miss.She couldn't stay here. Couldn't keep putting everyone in danger. Rosa. The maids. Dante. All of them were at risk because of her.She made a decision.---Cassandra packed a small bag. Just the essentials. A change of clothes. Her wallet. Her phone.And the necklace.She tucked the

Elena's private quarters were warm, filled with the scent of lavender and old books.Cassandra stood in the center of the room, her heart pounding. The silver box sat in her hands, its surface cool against her trembling fingers. Elena Moretti sat across from her, her composed mask finally cracked, tears glistening in her eyes."Open it," Elena whispered.Cassandra lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on velvet, was a key—delicate, intricate, ancient. It matched the pendant perfectly. Same silver. Same Celtic knot design. Same worn edges.Cassandra's breath caught. "This is—""The key," Elena confirmed. "To unlock what's inside the necklace. Your mother gave it to me the night she died."Cassandra looked up. "You knew my mother. You were friends."Elena nodded slowly. "We were very close. She trusted me with her life. With yours." Her voice cracked. "She made me promise to keep the key safe until you were ready.""And you've been holding it for twenty years.""Yes."Cassandra's jaw tightened