Bound By The Italian Don Novels & Stories

Four years ago, I took three bullets for my husband, Marcus DeLuca, heir to New York's most powerful mafia family. It cost me three years in a rival family's flooded cell. They interrogated me, drugged me with hallucinogens, and starved me, trying to make me reveal the DeLuca family's accounts, warehouses, and shipping routes. Three years later, I finally escaped. At the DeLuca Foundation's charity gala, everyone was talking about Rachel Bellini. The same woman I'd slapped in public years ago after she drunkenly draped herself over my husband's shoulder. "God only knows how much Marcus has spent on Rachel over the years. Now she's even got a Golden Globe nomination." "After Sarah disappeared

It wasn’t just a retaliation; it was a declaration. "Giovanni De Luca just drew a line of war," Don Moretti growled, his teeth grinding together as tears of pure malice pricked his eyes. "He thinks he is untouchable because he sits on his father's throne? He thinks he can wipe out my bloodline and get away with it?!" The old Don stopped pacing. He slowly turned his gaze back to Sebastian's cold body, a dark, toxic resolve hardening his features. The grief instantly morphed into a cold, calculated hunger for total annihilation.

"Otherwise what?" The air in the room froze. Everyone turned at once. Bodyguards burst into the room and pinned Giovanni and his parents to the ground. They hadn't even realized what was happening, their faces still frozen in shock and confusion. Giovanni's father's pupils shrank violently, his voice trembling. "D...Don..." Giovanni stood frozen in shock. He never imagined that the Don of the oldest and most powerful Conti family in Sicily would appear here in person. The next second, Don walked straight to me and naturally adjusted my hair. The coldness in his eyes instantly melted into gentleness.

Hmmm I subconsciously grovelled at his rich Italian accent. "Don is another name for Boss right?" "Yes it is. I'm am the Don of an Italy Mafia family" "Like you head a gang here in Italy?" "yes" "And those huge guys are..?" "They are my men. You need to be introduced to them by the way. I will do that after our chit chat" "Okay. So where is O.. " "Oliver, your husband" He cut in. I couldn't help but smile cuz of the look he was giving me right now"

, Dolores asked. “The one from Italy, mama”, she said. “Okay, and so?”, Dolores asked as she picked up her glass of wine. “And so? Mama it’s not any random old Don. He is young and has the face of a god. You should see him mama”, Lima said in a dreamy manner. “Okay, I see. You have a crush on this Don. I will see what I can see about setting you up with him”, Dolores said and took a sip from her wine.

He wore a Richard Mille on his right wrist and a Rolex on his left, with a glamorous and expensive customized chain, with the word 'DON’ engraved in it, resting on his chest. Don Fabrizio Colpani. He walked slowly but purposefully towards the two Mexican thug heads, with Lucca and the rest of his entourage coming behind him, disregarding Carlos’ and Di Stefano's raised guns. When he stood directly before them, he proceeded to say in a voice that carried authority: “Good evening, hermanos.. I… am Don Fabrizio Colpani.. Head, lord, and master of the Uomini Marrone.”

I exclaim as I see my driver and Anne behind me, expectantly. "Sir, I ask you to listen to me," he replies, approaching my place. "Stay where you are!" I spit out. "Ale, please come down from there!" she shouts. "Mr. Lombardi, what you are doing is not the way out!," exclaims Bruno. "You don't know shit," I say, returning my gaze to the front. "I've got a lot more years on you, so I do know." "Get out of here, both of you, if you don't want to be falsely implicated in a murder!"

“And I know for certain bouncing on your cock doesn't count as qualities of lead—” I punch him again, his head snaps sideways and this time I've split his lip open. I hear Alessio chuckle from his seat but he doesn't intervene with anything. Luca groans, lets out a low groan and spits on the floor. “Parlerai di mia moglie con rispetto,” (You will speak of my wife with respect) I warn. “È il tuo Don. E lo accetterai. Mi senti?” (She is your Don. and you will accept it. Do you hear me?)

He states I zone out completely, till I am nudged by Luciano, I look at him with a questioning look, and with an angry expression on his face, he nods his head towards the direction of the priest. I immediately look at the priest, who is staring at me unhappy, however he repeats himself again “ Do you Emiliana Russo take Luciano martello to be your lawfully wedded husband?” “ I guess I do” I said, not realizing I thought aloud, thankfully only Luciano and the priest heard it, and trust me the priest looks super annoyed, whereas my soon to be husband, has an annoying smirk plastered on his face. I immediately correct myself, “ I do”, I say this is a sickly sweet voice, leaving Luciano amused.

“Have you found my grandson?” the don asked the two men sitting tensely across him in the courtyard of his villa. Though the question was asked softly, it held a menace to it. The two men were fidgety as they were very apprehensive of how the don would take their report. Impatient of their answers, the don flicked his wrist and his whip was speedily in his hands. The two gentlemen quaked in their boots. They know the sting of that dratted whip as they were the recipient more than once in their growing up years. They hated that they have to kowtow to his every demand. If only they could find that very precious grandson and get rid of him permanently, but alas, they have scoured Italy to no av