Claimed By The Don Novels & Stories

Connie will promote anyone with talent, no matter what their background is. In the past, the Damien Family used to make me feel suffocated. However, I am fond of the Damien's now because this is my first time experiencing the happiness and pride of being a part of the Damien Family! Besides, there's the Michel Family too. Dona is an oddball, but she is still openly involved in the administrative work in the Michel Family. Furthermore, she is known as the infamous Mr. Dona in Taadi City's underworld. She would shoot anyone who has the audacity to drop a comment on the spot.

He still wanted to make a declaration at this time! Everyone was looking at him with an absurd expression on their faces. Was Don not the first one to side with the old master? Everyone knew what amazing goodies the old master had given him. Everyone in the room got goodies. Everyone knew this. Don was also the one with the most goodies. “Don, what are you doing?” One of the shareholders was furious. “Why are you pretending to be a loyal servant? Everyone knows what kind of person you are, Don!”

A small smile curved the sides of my face, and I reached for her hand, linking our fingers together as I placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Are you ready for us to leave now, or would you like to torture me again to see my reaction?" I asked her, and her reaction was to laugh, throwing back her head as a beautiful smile reached her eyes. She punched me gently, "yeah, make jokes all you want. I still intend to make you pay for that, Don. And by the way, who would have thought that you would have a kink for your own title? Is that why you got the seat, to make women call you a Don in bed while you spank them? Tsk tsk."

He stood and strode across to her grabbing her from Janie, ‘Ascoltate tutti, state lontani da questa ragazza, va bene? Lei è mia e se qualcuno di voi si avvicina a lei vi ucciderò.’ [Listen up all of you, keep away from this chick alright? She’s mine and if any of you go near her I will kill you.] His gaze went around the room and he had pulled himself up to his full height looking intimidating, ‘Lei è la donna Dons. Quella di cui tutti parlano.’ [She is the Dons woman. The one everyone is talking about.]

Don asks. “Ohh, I heard your friends call you Don. There are a lot of Dons in this world. It is not like you are the only person in the world with the name Don. Anyway, I think you should go home. Your jacket is worth more than my whole year's pay,” I say. “My name is Dante Angelo,” Don says. “Then why the hell do they call you Don? Shouldn’t take all you Dan?” I ask. “I am Don Dante Angelo,” He says as if it were important information.

They all did too, and bowed their heads. “Showing respect is not only by bowing down your heads to me, but also by giving me some accords and regards. I am right here, and y’all can not act like adults. And to you, Silva, this is not a trivial matter and should not be sweepers under the rugs” I sat down back and they all did. “Tattalia, what do you think about all of these?” I asked my right-hand man, and he stood up calmly. “The only rightful owner of the spot ‘The Don’ is Axell Leonardo, and I trust him with my life with the lives of the family. That is my opinion, Don Corleone”

Leandro’s face was hard—no trace of the misty eyes from earlier. But his body’s actions say otherwise. “You are my first born grandchild,” the Don said next, his eyes narrowing. Tony couldn't help but twitch a bit. Then the Don raises his brows. “You think I wouldn't know you? From the inside out?” He stomped his cane on the carpeted floor. “You have come crawling back here on your own? You won't do that. No. Not you. You’ve got the kind of pride that was as high as the eiffel tower.”

“And the worst is yet to come.” Calla’s brows pulled together. “What do you mean?” Donna Marta asked. “The council plans to declare him Don in a month.” Calla gasped, her hand flying straight to her mouth. Marco… Don?

And I’m starting to think I can love him. Later that evening, as I'm getting ready for bed, there's a knock on the door. It’s one of the guards, Dante. He’s a new one, a young, handsome man with kind eyes. “Miss Isabella, the Don has requested your presence.” I nod and follow him. As we walk, he tries to get closer to me. Too close. I take a step back, but he just smiles. “Don’t worry, Miss Isabella,” he says, his voice a low whisper. “I won’t tell anyone. It’s just us here.”