All Chapters of The Don’s Cheap Allowance: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Two blinding red lines.I sat in a narrow public restroom, staring at the cheap one-dollar pregnancy test in my hand.Three weeks late. I was stuck.On the other end of the phone, my best friend Stella's voice nearly pierced through my cracked phone screen. "Are you insane?! You don't even know where your next meal is coming from, and you're carrying Marcello's kid?!"I gripped the plastic stick hard and stayed silent."He's a billionaire Boss! He controls the entire East Coast! He won't even give you money for a condom?!"I hung up without a word.It wasn't that he wouldn't. It was that I couldn't even scrape together enough loose change to walk into a pharmacy.As the wife of the most powerful mafia Don in the New York underworld, my bank account balance was fixed at a grand total of one hundred and fifty dollars a month.My stomach churned with sharp cramps and acid. I had to eat. The thing inside my stomach needed to survive.Last month, Bianca, the family's chief bookkeeper, broug

The sound of heavy objects dragging across the floor woke me up the next morning.By the time I made it out, most of the furniture was already gone.I rushed to the doorway and tried to block two enforcers in the hallway. "Get your hands off my stuff!""Take the painting and the easel too."Bianca stood at the door, holding a clipboard with a handwritten list."Sienna, this is the Boss's order." She didn't even blink, her tone cold and purely administrative. "Since you're desperate enough to pawn family heirlooms for cash, you don't need any of this junk."The enforcer shoved me hard out of the way. My shoulder slammed against the doorframe with a dull thud.They moved fast, loading the custom sofa, rugs, and kitchenware onto the freight elevator one by one. In less than half an hour, the once-luxurious penthouse was nothing more than an empty concrete box.Two years ago, my drug-addict father racked up a massive debt and sold me to drug dealers as collateral.That night, Marcello kick

"A hundred and fifty dollars?"Shock flashed across Marcello's face.He stepped forward and grabbed my hands, his voice sharp and tense. "What kind of bullshit is that? Every single wire to your account has a paper trail. The pocket change alone is more than that!"Enzo stood ramrod straight. "I swear on my life! The Boss has never touched another woman. Only you!"I opened my mouth to sneer, but a sudden, violent cramp ripped through my lower belly.Cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My legs gave out, and I dropped toward the floor."Sienna!"Marcello lunged. He caught me by the back and knees, scooping me up against his chest."Get the car! Right now!"He roared at the men outside and carried me down the corridor in long, hard strides.The freezing winter air hit us in the back alley. He held me pinned tight against his chest, moving fast, keeping me steady.My face was pressed into his collar. His heart hammered against my cheek. I saw the raw panic in his eyes, and a sick thought

Marcello took the folder, skimmed through the pages, and frowned hard.He slammed the file onto the table. The papers slid across the surface, showing Long Island customs seizure forms and photos of container crates packed with solid gold bars.All the color drained from Bianca's face.She took two steps back, her words coming in a frantic rush. "Boss, this is a setup! Someone is framing me! I don't know anything about gold!""You don't?"I let out a cold laugh. I swiped open my spare phone and held the screen right in front of her eyes.The video on loop showed yesterday morning's penthouse security footage. Bianca stood in the hallway in a designer coat, directing four thugs as they carried my oil paintings, antique vases, and custom rugs into the freight elevator. At the very end, she snapped my easel in half with her own hands."What about this?" I stared at her. "You cleaned out my home. You didn't even leave me a bed. Then you ran to Marcello and told him I sold it all for cash.

I looked down and pressed my palm against my flat stomach.After a hellish night, the dull cramping finally eased. Through the thin hospital gown, I could almost feel a faint, stubborn pulse fighting to survive."I'm keeping him," I said.Stella froze, her hand still gripping my sleeve. "For Marcello?""For myself." I looked at the black card on the table. "This baby almost died on the filthy casino floor, but he held on. He's mine. He has nothing to do with Marcello."Stella stared at me for a few seconds. She let out a long breath and slapped the mattress. "Fine! Keep him! But you max out that damn card! Buy the best vitamins, buy the biggest estates, and take back every dime that belongs to you! Don't save a single cent for that blind idiot!"...Over the next week, the hospital corridor stayed completely clear.Marcello never left the room. He canceled every sit-down on the East Coast, took off his sidearm, and wore only a plain long-sleeve shirt.When the nurses changed my IV, he