Bound By The Italian Don Novels & Stories

I whispered, "I'm sorry if I did anything wrong. Please. I even remember the rules. Respect, obe-" "No, Bella. Stop. " He said sharply. "You're mine. I won't let another man lay a hand on you." His words were a balm on my reopened scars, but his tone was cold. Eyes trained on Zach's, he seethed under his hard veneer as Arthur unlocked the door caging my rapist. This wasn't Mariano. This was Don. The head of the Italian Mafia, the one I didn't know too well. As soon as Zach took a step, Mariano shook free from my grasp abruptly, and stormed to him, punching him in the face, and pressed Zach against the wall.

He gave me one last worried glance before exiting the room, leaving me alone with the infuriated Don. My heart raced in my chest, thumping so loud I feared the Don would hear it. His gaze bore into mine, igniting an overwhelming sense of vulnerability and another feeling I didn’t quite understand. His predatory grey eyes seemed to lock me in. He took a step closer, his voice dripping with venom. "Do you have any idea who I am, Elena?" still pointing the gun at me. I could only nod. "I am Don Luciano Vitello," he declared with authority, his eyes locked onto mine. "And I demand absolute obedience from those who work for me."

The least he could do was show up and we could pretend we liked each other and not embarrass me In front of different families. I was so engrossed, that I did not notice that the man was sitting in front of me, he was yet to tell me his name. “ You're awake” he said looking up from his phone momentarily, “ fasten up your seatbelt, we will soon land in Italy” he said while typing furiously on his phone. Italy, that was far from home but I was not shocked since Gambino was the Don of the Italian Mafia, obviously he stayed in Italy. Everyone in Italy basically works for him, and everything here belongs to him because it was his domain

He had his territory and he had never trespassed before even though we were not exactly on good terms, so why did he suddenly grow the balls to walk into the lion's den? My jaw twitched as my fingers glazed over my moustache. I regarded Matteo with a dark look, then in a fit of anger, I slammed my fist on the desk. "How dare he?" Matteo flinched a little before taking his stand. "I don't know, the last time I heard anything from him, he was sick so I don't know why he's trying to war against us." Matteo was right. Me and my father had been running Sicily and UK borders for so long and no one had ever dared to interrupt our dealings. Or do I say the last person who dared to trespass couldn't

] ‘Juliette’ Gino jumped at the sound of Romero’s voice and felt his heart drop when he saw his men were captured and he was alone, ‘Oh guarda ecco che arriva il bel ragazzo per la sua ragazza prostituta. Capisco la tua attrazione amico mio, è un bel po' di figa ma in realtà non è un fottuto Don, solo una patetica puttana del cazzo.' [Oh look here comes the pretty boy for his whoring girlfriend. I understand your attraction my friend, she’s a hot bit of pussy but really she’s not a fucking Don, just a pathetic fucking whore.]

My heart grew erratic, and I swallowed a sharp breath. "What am I doing here?" My voice shook. "What happened to me? How did this happen?" "You were shot in the middle of a guerra dei clan," she explained, and then added, "it italian for war of the clans. It is referred to as Faida dei Don, fued of the dons." I stared at her with furrows of confusion on my forehead. She averted her gaze from the basket to mine. Seeing how dazed I was, she explained better.

I ask. “They are from the Brasco family. They are my enemies. They are very powerful and will kill you for saving my life. As a Don of the Italian Mafia, I cannot allow that to happen because she saved my life. I would love you to stay here. However, I owe you my life. I am in debt with you for all the rest of my life. Now, let’s go. I do not have time to play anymore,” Don says.

Marco’s men tried to rush forward. "Hey!" the leader barked, raising his left hand. On his pinky finger, the unmistakable signet ring of Don Alessandro gleamed coldly. "Don’t come any closer," he warned, voice like steel. "Unless, of course, you want to face the Don’s rage." Marco’s men froze. Every man in that room had seen what happened to those who defied the Don. Not one of them was foolish enough to take that chance. Marco stopped struggling, breath shallow, head throbbing. Blood trickled from his brow. His fists clenched, even restrained.

Martin asked. “Do you want me to suspect you?” Don shot back. “Do you really need my help here?” Martin questioned. “Are we beginning a game of asking a series of questions?” Don questioned angrily. “If it is about your men, I know nothing about it.” Martin said to him. Don stared at him without saying a word. After some time, he said, “The Morano's appeared to have relaxed a little; any updates on them?” “Not yet, except that they will be arriving in Italy in a few weeks.”

“And yet it escaped your mind. The La Camorra never breeds men of shallow and forgetful minds. Or perhaps—“ he let the pause stretch, a blade of silence “—you think you’re above us?” Gasps and laughter ripped through the tables. I saw Victor glance toward me, his smirk widening. He was enjoying this. Don Vittorio turned then, walking to Don Francesco’s table. “And you say nothing, Don Francesco? Perhaps you stay silent because you’re so desperate to make Alessandro your daughter’s husband that you’ll excuse his incompetence?” Don Francesco’s expression darkened. “Enough—“ he began. But Vittorio’s look cut him down instantly. The kind of glare that reminded everyone who held the order code of