Dc The Don Name Novels & Stories

On the walls were huge portraits of people with foreign names. Most of them were males, only a few had a woman with them. One thing Camilla also noticed was the use of Don before each of the name. Was it a Russian thing? Except… no, it couldn’t be. Alek couldn’t possibly be in the mafia. “What’s a don?” she whispered to Doris as they reached downstairs. A few eyes turned to them as they continued to the entrance. There was a coat hanger in the large foyer and two more men at the door. “Hello.”

“Raphael, you really are a hopeless bastard.” Seeing me cry, his body flinched, and he moved toward me on instinct. But Daphne suddenly caught his arm and said softly, “But Donna, the Don is only stating a fact.” “Seven years of marriage. You really haven't given him an heir.” “Any other man would have dumped you long ago, but the Don put up with you for seven whole years!” “He never said a word, and you're the one asking for a divorce. Aren't you being selfish? You don't spare a thought for how hard this is on him.”

Baron's office, a dimly lit room with a hint of cigar smoke. Carlos stands nervously, clutching a suitcase, while Baron sits behind his desk, a cold gaze fixed on Carlos. Baron leaned back in his chair, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. "So, Carlos, I hear you're here to make a delivery." Carlos swallowed hard, trying to hide his fear, but his voice trembled anyway. "Y-yes, sir. I have the package right here." He held up the suitcase, his hands shaking slightly.

One voice cut through the others like a blade. “…the shipment routes are compromised. If Enzo thinks he can run his own plays behind my back, he’s more stupid than I gave him credit for.” My stomach dropped. That voice. Deep, controlled, laced with quiet fury. I’d only heard it a handful of times—at family dinners Enzo dragged me to, always from across the room. Dante Moretti. Enzo’s father. The Don. I froze, glass halfway to my lips again. What the hell was he doing here? Enzo said this was our night. Private.

"Signorina Monic. We weren't expecting you today." "I don't need to be expected. I'm family." Carmela says nothing to that. She just waits. "Is Luca here?" "He's occupied." "Occupied with what?" Her hesitation lasts only a fraction of a second. But I catch it. "Business," she says finally. "The Don has much to attend to." I smile. It doesn't reach my eyes. "Then I'll wait." I turn to leave, then stop. A woman is walking down the corridor toward us.

Darius waved for her to move closer to him seated behind the dark brown and white mahogany desk. “You called for me sir.” Alina said, her tone clipped and formal. She always talked formally to Darius, despite his instructions that she was a special exception. Alina was his goddaughter and he wanted her to treat him more like a father than a boss, which she just couldn’t bring herself to. Darius Andersen was Florida's Mafia Don. The biggest and most feared in America. “I see you've taken care of the senator.” Darius nods towards her dirty self. Not like he particularly cared about appearance. The only thing he cares enough about is that the job gets done. Something Karl couldn't do, apparentl

Jessica said inwardly, trying to convince herself. Emy had no choice but to do as Jayden ordered. She instructed about three girls to carry Jessica gently as they went to Jessica's new room, while waiting for the doctor's arrival. "Who are you to the Don?" One of the popular strippers, identified as Sophia, asked Jessica after placing her on the bed. "The Don?" "The leader of the Black Shade Mafia cult." On hearing this, it suddenly felt like the atmosphere had stiffened.