Ari The Don Novels & Stories

As the Don of the Renzetti family, Antonio lived by one rule. Time is money. I watched him pull the trigger on one of his own men for showing up thirty seconds late to a meeting. He was just as stingy with his time when it came to me, even though I was his fiancée. I was always the one who accommodated him. I waited four hours for him at the bridal salon, and all I got was a single cold line over the phone. "Elena, sitting through a fitting is a waste of my time. Go on your own." I put a smile on for the salon staff and finished the fitting alone. That day, I was on a job at the underground casino when I saw Antonio—who was supposed to be at a meeting down at the docks—standing in front of t

The directors on the table were stunned-this was a very important meeting on a deal of over one million dollars and their boss had actually paused it to answer a call. “Ria?” he said immediately he answered. Ria? That was a girl’s name! The directors were all shock; they looked at each other in askance. It was no news that the Boss was an only child and always stayed away from the female counterpart, so who is this lady that could make the boss run to her beck and call immediately. “What do you want me to do for you,” he asked her. After hearing what she wanted from him, he replied, “consider it done.”

And I would honor that choice by winning. We arrived at the council chambers just as the sun began to set. The building was a fortress of glass and steel, built by the families decades ago. Inside, the five Dons of the city waited. Marco Castellano was already there, his presence a reassuring anchor. And in the center of the room, at a table draped in black, sat the duplicate. She was wearing my face. She was wearing my clothes. But she wasn't wearing my life. Not yet. "Essa Kane." The eldest Don, a man named Salvatore Greco, spoke from his throne-like chair. "You've requested an audience with the council. State your purpose."

## Isabella The ballroom was packed with New York's elite—politicians, businessmen, socialites, and scattered among them, the five families. Isabella recognized some faces from news articles, others from Marco's briefings. The Carbones. The Irish mob's leadership. And there, across the room, talking to a cluster of admirers, was Don Vittorio Salvatore. He was in his fifties, handsome in a cruel way, with silver at his temples and sharp dark eyes that tracked Isabella's entrance like a predator spotting prey.

I clenched my fist to control the anger. Bride? They thought I was into this arrogant piece of … Control yourself Arielle, this is not time to get provoked. “Si. Signor De Luca. She is the new Dona of the Morretti clan.” Matteo replied. The men had their eyes on me. Probably looking for the faults they could pick out immediately. I stayed still, letting their eyes travel. “She looks different, but I think she's going to fit in.” Another man said after raking me with his eyes.

At that, Ferrara lifted the glass to his lips and butted in before I could reply, "You signed up for The Lux?" With deliberate display of triumph, Alistair brought a forkful of steak to his lips before he nodded, "yes, I did. I am officially the first member of the club. I expect that Miss Petrov has some special package attached to it?" Ferrara let out a scoff and turned to Christopher, "little man, do you understand Korean?" Christopher shook his head innocently, "no daddy." And Ferrara De Castello who sat next to his son smirked and parted his filthy lips and spoke in Korean,

I sat there and waited for the barman eyes to fall on me so I could rain down some liquor on my burning sanity. The bartender’s eyes then fell on me, and I could see the blonde’s eyes shining. He signaled a young one on his right who I didn’t notice before, and the boy took over the bar, “What would this gorgeous lady fancy?” the bartender, who now had his complete attention on me asked with a smile. He was Italian or Spanish, I could tell by his accent. Placing my bag on the counter, I passed him a smile of courtesy too. Not for flirtatious means rather you should never mess with people who handle your food, it can get nasty fast. “The strongest you have, Moodozvon.”

Ami shouts as I interject. “That’s not what I meant. I just said I don’t want your money.” “Then you want my sister’s?” “Jaden, please.” She grabs his hand and looks into his eyes, then suddenly switches to another language. Jaden glances at me and frowns. “Kare wa chichioya desu,” she says. (He’s the father.) He stares at her for a moment before sighing. “Nani? Watashi wa anata ga donna o eta to omotta,” he replies. (What? I thought you said he was a donor.)

Word for word. That afternoon, I came home and saw a familiar figure outside. Angelo. Talking to my mother. I ducked behind a tree. My mother waved him off, disgusted. "Mr. Ferro. I know what you did." "Now you want me to talk her into coming back to you? Not a chance. Go. Don't come back." His head was down. This invincible man, the Don of the Ferro Family, was crying. Words forced out: "Isa... I'm sorry."

In that instant, the air seemed to vanish from the hall, leaving everyone breathless. Edoardo's gaze was pinned firmly on my face, fixed on those two wounds that were still oozing blood. His pupils constricted sharply as he swallowed hard. At that moment, the man who ruled them all, the legendary Don Ariani, lost all strength in his legs and dropped to his knees before me. That single, heavy thud felt like a blow to everyone's heart. Without a second thought, Edorado prostrated himself on the cold deck, his hands braced against the wood and his forehead nearly touching the ground.