Bound By The Italian Don Novels & Stories

was the question on his lips “You told me you had control over this,” Donatello said coldly, his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was like sandpaper, rough but commanding. “Yet here we are. Maria is wounded. The girls, some gone and so are some of our stash. If we can't do a simple Mexican trade, how do we do a China trade?" De Marco exhaled sharply through his nose. “You think I don’t know that?” He turned on Donatello, his eyes dark with fury. “I had men watching every angle. We expected Morelli’s moves, but Sanchiano got involved. The old bastard came in full force. What is his stake in this?"

Wilbet hated the sight of my tears. Forcing myself to breathe, I shook my head. "That is Malcolm Laurent," he scoffed, as if the name irritated him. "A very powerful man. Some say he has affiliates with the Mafia, and you were standing there chatting with him like a damn fool." I curled my fingers into my palm, feeling my nails dig into the flesh there. Wilbet turned to me harshly, grabbing my face. "Tell me, dear wife, did you embarrass me?" I knew "embarrass" was code for Did you tell him I hit you?

My eyes widened, and I pushed him—but he didn’t budge even a bit. His other hand pulled my body against his. I felt his erection. He cupped my face, leaned his forehead against mine, and said, “I don’t want to hurt you, Mila. Stop this…” His voice was low. Dangerous. “I am the Il Don of Cosa Nostra asking you. Stop what you are doing.” He pulled me into a tight hug, and I felt his heartbeat.

Those words just slipped through my lips, confessing something I didn't even realize until I said it. She didn't say a word but cuddled deeper into me. I held her a little tighter, taking in every second we got to be together. "Why can't you marry me?" She asked in a whisper. "It would start a war." She laughed. "How?" "I'm the Don. If I married an outsider then it would open the door for everyone to mix blood. We are generations of pure Italians. Our entire hierarchy is based on the purest blood. It is what makes one brother stronger than another from different mothers. The old traditional men of the families would see it as treason and would want me removed as Don. The only way I can be re

~ Manhattan, New York ~ "What do you mean?" "What I mean is, the Don adopted the daughter of Mr. Vale and has kept her locked away in the mansion. He arrived with her last night and has refused to let her go." "He addresses her as his captive, saying he is holding her captive and she belongs to him. I tried to find out why, but I could not get the information out of his assistant or the guards sire." The house keeper whispered into the phone, while scanning if anyone was around. The old Don could not help but sigh helplessly. His son was stubborn and liked to do things of his own accord but those things could put him in a mess or even get him in trouble.

“You are mine, Fuoco Mio.” For a second, the room went quiet. Alejandro’s arms were still around me, his breath warm against the bite he’d left on my neck. The sting pulsed faintly with every beat of my heart, a sharp reminder of just how far the Don of the Cortes empire had crossed the line.

“And that he was the Don.” I then look at Dante, meeting his eyes directly. “Just like you are… right?” I ask quietly. He exhales slowly through his nose, not irritated, just acknowledging the question. “Yes,” he answers plainly. “I am the Don, and Head of the Valencia family… and the Benedettis are our biggest enemy…”

The man on the chair immediately starts to shake and I bit back my disgust when I notice he wets himself. Enzo sighs, shaking his head. “That’s the fourth time in thirty minutes.” The man in question sobs, although it is muffled because of the gag in his mouth. “What have you gotten so far?” “A new Monterro is in charge of our dealings. It’s the name I am looking for.” I take in the man, noting Enzo had already removed five of his fingers and from the way his legs were bent, Enzo had broken his knees too. “He is afraid of you. When I mentioned your name, he wet himself. And he did so again when you walked in.”

"I don't think it was a coincidence. I think you've been waiting on something, and I haven't worked out what." He stands and takes his jacket off the back of the chair. At the door he stops next to Matteo, near enough that Matteo has to look at him. "I will, though," Leandro says. "I usually do." I listen to the front door. When it closes, the room smells of cold eggs. "He's close," Matteo says. "He's guessing." "In my experience that's how it starts." I don't answer that. Through the window, Leandro's car goes down the drive and takes the bend too fast, the way he always has.

“He made it possible for you to live, and this is my own way of thanking him. He did all this for his mother. Why should I abandon him after getting what I wanted?” “Ava, are you hearing yourself?” Peter’s voice hardened. “Don’t be fooled by his generosity. Men like that don’t change overnight.” I pulled my hand away from his. “There’s a rumor about him being in the mafia. There’s a whole conspiracy surrounding him. I did quite a lot of research about him, and something is not adding up.” “I don’t care.” The words came out immediately. Peter stared at me. “I’m not leaving until my contract ends. Matter of fact, he has agreed to terminate my contract after one year if his mother gets well.”