Where Can I Read Sculpture In The Age Of Donatello Online?

“I'm so sorry, Leo,” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. Tears of guilt and self-blame streamed down my cheeks as I stood before him, eyes cast downward. Despite the fact that I was his prisoner and he was my warden, I couldn't bear the thought of anything bad happening to him. I told him, “It's my fault. I shouldn't have let you go-” “Damn it, Alessandra. I don't want your apology,” Leonardo snapped, lifting my chin with a firm finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. His voice was hard as steel as he continued, “I want you to write a fucking essay about how much you think about me. How you crave my touch. I want to hear you say you love me, because I swear it in this life, mia principessa, there won't be anyone else but me.” ----------------------------------------------------- When Alessandra Scavelli is forced into marrying Leonardo De Castello, her childhood sweetheart turned feared mafia kingpin, her world is thrown into chaos. Leonardo, still madly in love with her, sees this as a chance to reclaim their lost romance. Alessandra, however, is torn by a secret mission handed to her by her family: infiltrate Leonardo's syndicate and bring it down from within. As she delves into Leonardo's dangerous world, Alessandra finds herself conflicted between her family’s demands and the undeniable pull of her own heart. The once clear lines between loyalty and love blur, and she must navigate a treacherous path where betrayal lurks at every corner. Will Alessandra follow through with her family's plan, or will she surrender to the passion that threatens to consume her?

For one year, I believed Matteo De Luca had truly fallen in love with me. Our marriage began as an alliance, but he held me every night, kissed me before council meetings, and fastened the De Luca Donna brooch at my throat as if I already belonged beside him. Then his first love, Vanessa Ashford, came back. Within days, our official ceremony was postponed, her access was added to the Donna wing, and Matteo stopped wearing the family signet he once used to claim me in public. He said it was council business. But council business did not leave amber perfume on his skin. It did not sit beside him on a private jet to Palm Beach. And it certainly did not smile from the Donna’s chair while his friends watched me lose my place. The final humiliation came at a private dinner, when someone asked whether I was Matteo’s wife. He looked at me, then said calmly, “Elena and I have an arrangement.” That night, I stopped waiting to be chosen. Matteo could keep his first love, his title, and the home he let her enter. I packed my passport, my Florence contract, and the prenatal report he had never seen. Then I left New York with his child.

When I pushed open the oakwood door to the manor’s study, I never expected to walk into such a scene. Juliana was sprawled across the desk, her posture leaving little to the imagination. As if not R-rated enough, her mini dress was pulled up to her waist, and her black lace clung to her thigh, barely covering her modesty. She looked back with a smile. “Alessia, my back is acting up again. Matteo’s just helping me out.” Matteo, my husband and a Don, rose to his feet, a tube of ointment in hand. He didn’t look like someone who had been caught out. “She couldn’t reach her back, so I thought I ought to lend a hand.” Matteo grabbed the dressing and pressed the gauze against her skin. He sure took his time. Tilting her head, Juliana met my gaze. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We grew up together. That’s how family is. We don’t care about that kind of stuff.” In my past life, I bolted into the room and grabbed Juliana by the hair to yank her off the desk. She turned to the side, shoving me hard into the sharp corner of the desk. I hit my head on the cold marble edge. The next thing I knew, I was a dead body in the morgue. This time, I stood in the doorway motionlessly. Since Juliana wanted to play the game, I’d be sure to hold my cards close to my chest.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

In the dark world of the mafia, Donatello thrust his daughters, Summer and Winter into arranged marriages to protect them from their ruthless biological father, a Japanese mafia lord. Summer, with her medical expertise, finds herself bound to Marcelo, a loyal and calculating consigliere. As they navigate the treacherous landscape of their new lives, secrets and misunderstandings threaten to tear them apart. Summer's past, including her lingering feelings for her ex, Emilio, and her complicated relationship with her father, Donatello, further complicates her situation. Will she find love and protection with Marcelo, or will the shadows of her past and the danger that follows her destroy everything she's come to know?

Christmas Eve was meant to be the culmination of seven years of long-distance longing—the day Lorenzo finally slid an engagement ring onto my finger. Instead, a sudden emergency surgery chained me to the operating table. The patient wasn't just suffering from a premature delivery and catastrophic hemorrhaging; she was riddled with infections, the biological fallout of a reckless, hedonistic lifestyle. The girl on the table spat out orders with a venomous entitlement that made my blood run cold. "My husband is the head of the Corleone family. He’s second to none, and this entire city bows to him. If you can’t save my baby, you’re all dead." My mind went blank. There was only one head of the Corleone family: Lorenzo. "You’ve got the wrong man," I said, my voice wavering despite my frown. "The news said he’s already engaged to a woman from a rival family for a strategic alliance." The girl looked at me as if I’d just told a pathetic joke. She surveyed me with a mocking sneer. "Oh, he’s mentioned that woman. He said she’s like a cold corpse—that even touching her makes him sick to his stomach. She doesn't provide him a fraction of the pleasure I do." She smirked. "He heard something happened to the baby. He’s en route from Sicily right now with his personal detail." She flicked her phone screen open. There it was: a photo of her and Lorenzo, locked in a suffocatingly intimate embrace. I froze. A second later, a notification from Lorenzo vibrated against my palm. “Darlin’, something urgent came up tonight. I’m skipping the engagement dinner. I’ll make it up to you later.” Since they were so utterly in love, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. I dialed a number that had been silent for three years—the number of the true mastermind of the underworld, Don Sebastian. "Does your proposal from three years ago still stand?"