Dc The Don Name

I poured out my heart to him, telling him everything and not leaving a single part out of it. "Please, Don Xander, I will be grateful if you could grant me just this one wish" I begged desperately, my voice cracking at the end, even though I tried so hard to stay strong. He tilted his head to one side and smirked. "I can do that for you" he said, and my eyes beam with happiness immediately. "But..." He trailed off, swirling his drink in his hand. "What do I get in return for helping you? After all, it's all about give and take" My jaw dropped instantly. His playboy attitude playing in my head. "I... I can't... I mean, I'm sorry Don Xander but I'm not the type of girl who sleeps around with men. If it's okay with you, I can work for you instead" I suggested. He wave his index finger, shaking his head. "No, Bella" he said in a low, husky voice. Then, he rose from his seat and walked towards to me, his movement graceful and deliberate. I shivered, still seated as he crouched beside me. He leaned closer to my face and I tilted my head to look at him in the eyes. "If I will help you..." he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. "You must give me something in return" "What do you want?" I asked in a low voice. His eyes gleamed with intensity. "I want you, Isabella" he whispered, his lips grazing my ear. I jerked back, shocked by his request. "Don Xander!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling.

—Ayúdame a fingir mi muerte y a organizar una identidad completamente nueva. —Doña —el hombre estaba claramente conmocionado—. ¿Por qué? El Don la adora. Toda Sicilia sabe que... —Eso no es asunto tuyo —lo interrumpí—. Me voy en cinco días. Al salir del mercado negro, la pantalla LED de la plaza todavía mostraba imágenes de mi fastuosa boda con el Don Alexander hace tres años, una ceremonia que costó más de quinientos millones de dólares. Todos pensaban que Alexander me amaba profundamente, y yo también lo creía. Hasta esta tarde. En nuestro tercer aniversario de bodas, regresé a Sicilia temprano y me escondí en la sala de descanso de la oficina de mi esposo, queriendo darle una sorpresa. En su lugar, vi a su secretaria escondida bajo su escritorio. Mientras el subjefe, Marco, informaba sobre las pérdidas de la operación de contrabando en el muelle, Isabella estaba arrodillada entre las piernas de Alexander, desabrochando hábilmente sus pantalones. Su cabeza subía y bajaba. Después de que Marco se fue, Isabella sonrió seductoramente. —¿Podría tu Doña atenderte de esta manera durante una reunión? La voz de Alexander estaba llena de deseo. Sus manos amasaban los pechos de ella. —Sophia es demasiado convencional, demasiado aburrida. Tú eres mucho más emocionante en la cama, pequeña zorra. Me cubrí la boca, completamente devastada. Pero cuando finalmente me fui, el Don, que me había considerado aburrida, fue quien se desmoronó por completo.

“I’ll let my servants watch as I fuck your cunt right here. And when I’m done… I’ll wipe your blood with this tissue and send it as a present to your father,” Stefano sneered as he pushed me to the bed, his eyes dark in excitement. Gianna Bellini was born a mafia princess. She was spoiled… heavily protected and untouchable. She was supposed to marry her childhood love and unite two powerful families. Instead, war broke out. To stop bloodshed and to save her father from reliving the nightmare that once killed her mother, Gianna agrees to be traded to the most powerful Don in the city. But she is taken before the deal is complete. By Stefano De Caruso. The Don’s son. The man secretly at war with his own father. The only man dangerous enough to dismantle empires. Stefano didn’t want peace. He wanted leverage. And Gianna is his favorite weapon. Now trapped between rival families, father and son, loyalty and desire, Gianna must survive a game where love is weakness, trust is fatal, and possession is mistaken for protection. Because in this war… She isn’t the prize. She’s the battlefield.

Drei Tage vor unserer Hochzeit wurde mein Verlobter, Raphael Russo, bei einer Schießerei zwischen rivalisierenden Banden getötet. Man fand nicht einmal eine Leiche. Während ich in Trauer versank, blitzten plötzlich Kommentare vor meinen Augen auf: [Wach auf, Mädel! Der Sarg ist leer! Er hat seinen Tod vorgetäuscht! Das Schwein ist abgehauen zu dieser hinterhältigen Schlampe Chloe – die nur so tut, als wäre sie krank!] [Während du dir auf der Beerdigung die Augen ausheulst, vögelt Raphael Chloe im Hotelbett die Seele aus dem Leib.] [Wenn er zurückkommt, wird er behaupten, er hat eine Amnesie. Du wirst nichts ahnen und ihm verzeihen. Du armes Ding…] Einen Monat später ging die Nachricht von meiner Hochzeit mit dem Mafia-Boss Marcello Falcone durch ganz New York. Raphaels rechte Hand stellte mich wütend zur Rede. „Wie konntest du den Boss so verraten?“ Ich klammerte mich fester an Marcellos Arm und lächelte. „Eine Frau kann nicht ewig trauern, oder? Ich bin sicher, Raphael würde sich im Jenseits für mich freuen.“

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.

Era la asesina más hábil de Don Alexander y su Consigliere, pero también su esposa secreta. Durante los cinco años que duró nuestro matrimonio oculto, él nunca permitió que nuestro hijo lo llamara papá. Siempre decía que las familias enemigas nos vigilaban todo el tiempo y que mi hijo y yo éramos su única debilidad; juraba que lo hacía para protegernos. Yo le creí y lo ayudé en silencio a manejar todos los asuntos de la familia, hasta que su primer amor, Bella, regresó con un niño de cinco años. Él reservó todo un parque de diversiones para que ellos se divirtieran todo el día. Ese día era el cumpleaños de mi hijo, y él se empeñó en esperar a que su padre volviera a casa, mientras sostenía un pastel que ya se estaba derritiendo. Perdí la esperanza e hice una llamada: —Ayúdame a cancelar mi identidad y la de Leo; borra toda nuestra información. Pero cuando mi hijo y yo nos esfumamos, el poderoso Don se volvió loco y buscó por todo el mundo algún rastro nuestro...

“Go on, Grenade. Pull the trigger.” An annoying smirk was plastered on his face, as he leaned on the wall. My heart contracted, and my eyes stung. A click of my gun, and all these would be over. This was the mission I'd worked so hard on. “Wasn't this what you wanted, Grenade? Wasn't this your plan all along, when you snaked into my life, pretending to be who you weren't? Why are you hesitating, then?” “For the last time, Dante, my name is West. Don't ever call me Grenade.” I hissed. He advanced towards me slowly. “I don't care if I die now, Grenade. But don't you ever let the King of Hearts fall into the wrong hands. Give it to me.” His tone was soft, yet there was no denying the order behind it. “You wish.” *** West, the most powerful undercover agent for Lucchese, is suddenly given a mission by her Capo. She is to infiltrate a powerful Mafia group in Italy, and make the boss let down his guard around her. And then, she has to bring back 'The King of Hearts,' a powerful computer program that's capable of destroying, and changing the world. But she must never fall in love with him. However, her mission isn't going to be as easy as it seems. Especially as she unravels the secrets surrounding her birth, discovering that her whole existence is a lie. In the midst of all, the cold hearted West finds herself falling for Capo Dante, the head of the 'Ndrangheta, and her enemy. There was one rule, and one rule only… The King of Hearts must never ever fall into the wrong hands. But…who was the bad guy? (#1 The Mafia Princess Series)

“You want soft?” Marco’s voice whispered against my ears. I tried to keep my breathing steady, but the way he leaned over me…one hand braced on the wall, made it impossible. “I’m not soft, Cassandra. I’m not the kind of man who lights candles and whispers pretty lies in bed.” He leaned in, our lips inches apart “Listen to me, dolcezza, I fuck. I dominate. I tie your hands, your legs and make you forget your own name.” I pressed my lips tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction that only his words was messing with my head, “You don’t scare me, Marco.” His hands wrapped around my throat..not to hurt. Just enough to remind me I was his to command. “No, but I do something worse.” His lips brushed my ear. “I make you beg.” I hated him. I hated the way my pussy ached for his touch. I hated my body for betraying me for wanting him. “Say it,” he whispered. “Tell me who you belong to.” “I don’t belong to anyone.” He shoved my legs apart roughly, plunging two mighty fingers inside me, “Then why is your pussy soaked, bella? Hmm? Tell me do you want my cock or my collar?” I swallowed hard, “Both.” Marco smiled. “Then be a good girl for daddy. Kneel!” **** SEQUEL TO FORCED TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE’S SURROGATE CASSANDRA’S STORY She was sold to the ruthless mafia don to bear an her for his cold, gay son. But she finds herself caught in a dangerous web of forbidden desire. But the real danger isn’t her supposed fiancee—it’s Don Marco, her ruthless father-in-law. It begins with whispered temptations and stolen glances, then escalates into late-night visits and nights of forbidden passion.

For five years, Marco Falcone was the perfect man. Or so I thought. The illusion shattered on the night of our engagement party, when his mistress crashed it, a five-year-old boy in tow. The boy ran straight to Marco, crying, "Daddy! Daddy, I finally found you!" It had to be some kind of sick joke. But then Marco turned to me, his voice stripped of all warmth. "This is my son, Leo. A… mistake Sofia and I made five years ago." "Leo is the Falcone heir. I have to legitimize them. That means I'll be engaged to Sofia first." "But Lydia, believe me, I still love you. We can have our engagement party in six months. You're going to be the Donna of the Falcone family. I expect you to be generous and understanding. This is non-negotiable." I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slid the engagement ring off my finger. My eyes scanned the room and locked on the man in the corner—Lorenzo Moretti, the most powerful Don in New York. He held another title, one only I knew: the man who’d been trying to make me his. "Don Moretti," I called out, my voice clear and steady. "I find myself in need of a new fiancé. Are you interested?"

My husband of five years, Eric Vale, came home drunk again. As I laid him in our bed, he murmured, “Don’t worry, my love… I’ll take care of you and our baby.” My heart stopped. Baby? We’d been on birth control since the day we married. There was no baby. I shook him lightly. “What are you talking about, Eric?” He blinked at me, confused, then smiled like nothing had happened. “Hey, babe… did I say something?” The next morning, I checked our joint account. Every month, ten thousand dollars had been wired to a woman named Bella Evers. Yesterday, he sent two hundred thousand more—with a note: I can’t wait for our baby to be born. Bella was Eric’s mistress and was now six months pregnant. So I made one call. “Papa,” I told the most feared Don in the South, “I’m getting a divorce.” I glanced at my sleeping husband. “I want him gone. And I want him broke.”