Don Regret Novels & Stories

He immediately wiped it away, his movement quick and angry, as if hiding a shameful secret. Hah. Even at a time like this, who was he putting on an act for? Just then, the door was thrown open. Luca rushed in, his face grim. "Don…" His voice was trembling. "I have a report. The Donna… she's dead. The flight to Europe encountered turbulence and broke apart mid-air. Officials have confirmed no survivors." I watched Alessio's reaction on the screen. The pen slipped from his fingers. He was stunned. "What the fuck did you just say?" He grabbed Luca by the collar. "Are you fucking joking with me?"

I studied his profile in the dim light, the sharp line of his jaw, the careful stillness he'd perfected over years of needing to appear unshaken even when everything beneath the surface was anything but. "Whatever happens in there," I said quietly, "I need you to know I'm not going anywhere. Not tonight, not after, regardless of what we find." Dante turned to look at me then, something raw and unguarded briefly surfacing in his expression before the careful control reasserted itself. "You say that as though there's a version of tonight that could change how I feel about you." "There might be," I said honestly. "If we find him and he's simply a broken man, grieving a mother he watched die of

Far too many to count. Romina's eyes darted, and she dug in stubbornly. "I have no idea what you're talking about! Orlando, our engagement isn't a game! This is about two great families, the Hales and the Bennetts!" "Enough!" Don Bennett slammed his hand on the table. "Haven't you humiliated us enough? Shut your mouth!" "Father?!" "Don't call me that. I have no daughter like you!" Don Bennett's face was livid. "In my whole life I've misjudged exactly one person, and that's you, Romina!"

Cameras flashed at her disgrace. Charles stared at the mess. He pulled out a burner phone and dialed an international number. "Find out which department Serena Ashford is joining in Paris. Contact the Luis family. Tell them the Hart Group is canceling all European cooperation this quarter. Unless they fire Serena Ashford." He hung up and looked at the sea of "Ivy Sterling" signs. His eyes were cold. But I saw none of it. And by then, I no longer cared.

The caption read: [Don Rossi says the night view here is worthy of the most special evening. The post was already filled with likes and comments. One business associate who didn't know the situation commented, [Are Don Rossi and his consigliere getting some good news soon?] To which Sofia replied with a shy emoji. Antonio didn't respond, but he did leave a like. Calmly, I liked the post as well and left a comment. [The accounts have been reviewed and placed in the study.] After returning to the estate, I went straight to the bedroom to rest.

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.

For the five years I was married to my mafia husband, Dante, I never once showed my face to the Moretti family. I thought it was Dante’s way of protecting me. Until a family meeting record landed in my hands by mistake. It said Dante Moretti had formally married Gianna Romano. The date was five years ago. When I saw that name, I froze. She was Dante’s most trusted capo. She’d saved his life. She was also in love with him. Five years ago, she’d been against Dante marrying me. While I was performing on stage, she deliberately sent a spotlight crashing down and destroyed my career as a pianist. Afterward, she cried and said she hadn’t meant to. Dante believed her. He couldn’t send her t

The day my husband kicked me off the Rinaldi family council, Irene Costa was sitting in my chair. She had been engaged to his late brother. She was wearing my pearl necklace, and the brooch pinned to her chest was reserved for the Donna of the Rinaldi family. My mother had left me that necklace. I kept it in a safe, and the only person who knew the combination was my husband, Victor Rinaldi. He looked at me, his voice cold. "Irene is taking your place at tonight's South Port negotiation. When you learn to control your jealousy, I'll give you your seat back." No one at the table said a word. My pin, my necklace, and the South Port proposal I'd spent three months working on now lay in front of

“Diego is my best friend. He's like a brother to me. Deal with it.” “You don’t need to work anymore.” Donato crossed his arms. “Why are you still doing it?” “Because I want to.” Donato let out a loud sigh. He was already regretting where this conversation was going. The last thing he wanted was another argument with Jesse this early in the morning. “If you really want to work, I know people. Places. I can get you something better.” Jesse shook his head. “I don’t remember complaining about what I do. If you’re embarrassed, whenever you see me working, you don’t have to act like you know me.”

Hearing that made Madam Bora happy, so she felt confident leaving the kids at the pool. At the Airport “Why are we here in this old building? I thought we were going to Korea so I could get treated!” the Don asked anxiously. “What am I, insane? You think I’d spend 40 million just to get you treated? Noooo! You’re going to die here in this abandoned building!” Donita screamed as she yanked the Don from his wheelchair. “D-Don’t do this to me, Donita! Please have mercy! I beg you! I didn’t do anything to deserve this, my dear wife!” the Don pleaded.