Don Winslow Books Novels & Stories

I murmured, leaning forward so my breath was warm against his neck, repeating the words he had whispered to me. Slowly, his breathing began to level out, anchoring himself to the sound of my voice. As I carefully bandaged the clean wounds, wrapping the white gauze securely around his broad chest, the silence of the house settled over us. The Valentis were gone. Elena was gone. He had traded his blood for our freedom, but as I looked out the dark window toward the city lights, I knew this was only the beginning.

Maya Carter is a maid in the Romano mansion, barely surviving on dialysis while keeping her kidney failure a secret. Cold, ruthless Don Salvatore Romano hires her and expects silence, obedience, and invisibility. But when Maya collapses in the west wing and Sal finds her, something shifts. He notices her. He protects her. And slowly, the house that felt like a prison starts to feel like home. As Sal begins to care for Maya, enemies start watching. When Maya’s brother shows up asking for money, Sal chooses her over family. When Maya’s health crashes, Sal makes the impossible choice: he gives her his kidney. Going public at a gala puts a target on Maya’s back. A knife and her ph

Thank you for reading Lorenzo's story. I hope that you have enjoyed it. Please note, from this point forward, it is Dario's story. Similar trigger warnings are still in place for this book. As well as, the following. Focus on mentally unstable man. Talk of child abuse. Miscarriage scene. There is also graphic torture detail, and some scenes of BDSM within it. This book features someone who has a lot of mental health issues caused by his childhood. This is the final story within the series. It is shorter than the others as 90% of their relationship is within the past, and not seen as a commitment.

Ordinary life went on in bright stubborn strokes while my insides felt like they were dissolving. Part of me was furious. How dare he? How dare he live that double life and keep me smiling over dinner while he did whatever he did? But another part felt hollow and guilty in a way I hated. I had slowly fallen in love with him, even when I told myself not to. I had covered the cracks with small kindnesses and pretend ignorance until pretending had turned into feeling. It was like being half-asleep and realizing the bed you’re in has chains you can’t see.

He said as he walked towards the door. "And I am Carlos, why don't you sleep food will be brought to you soon" he said and walked out the door, she felt light headed all of a sudden and knew something was it the water he gave her. A shaky exhale escaped her. Her stomach turned. The room began to blur. She swayed, blackness tugged on her subconscious, and then it dragged her all the way under. Later in the Don's office Carlos walked in and saw Marco busy with some work as usual, his friend was such a workaholic, he thought. He did not look up when Carlos entered so he sat down at the edge of Marco's table and said.

Back then, he simply said, "I won't hand it over even if you kill her. This was built on my men's blood and sweat." Later, they realized I held no leverage over them and lowered their guard, giving me the chance to finally escape. When I returned, I cried and told Giovanni how terrified I had been. But he sighed impatiently. "Being with me is inherently dangerous. I'm Don of the Santoro family. Are you sure you still want to be with me?" Back then, I loved him too much. So, I agreed without a second thought. I never imagined that principles could be broken so easily, yet it wasn't for me.

All I wanted was silence. And the library—smug, dark, and lined with leather-bound delusions, Wilbet’s might I add—was the one place no one would dare look for me. The kind of room that existed for appearances, not use. The scent of old paper and wood was reassuring, if I didn’t think too hard about it. I ran a hand along the spines until I found a familiar title. The Economics of Prestige. Typical. Wilbet loved to decorate shelves with things he didn’t read. As if intellect could be bought and dusted. The fool.

“I needed the consigliere’s signature on some documents and caught her coming out that door with messy hair and her dress unzipped.” Juliana’s complexion shifted from white to red, then to ashen. Her lips parted, but words failed her. Several capos exchanged whispers in the corner. Carlo Tutti was the consigliere, a man held in high esteem. His private suite was accessible only to the Don. Juliana clenched her wine glass, her knuckles white. “You’re mistaken.” “Maybe.” I speared a piece of steak and chewed slowly. “My memory is hazy, but you’re always throwing yourself at men. I’m sure you won’t mind a little gossip.”

Victor rolled slightly to the side but kept her pressed against his chest, stroking her damp hair as their heartbeats slowly calmed. For those few stolen minutes, the grief had been silenced. But both of them knew it would return with the morning light. “I’ve got you,” Victor murmured against her temple. “Always.” Down the hall, Romano sat alone in his study, a glass of whiskey untouched on the desk. The powerful don stared at a photograph of Elena, taken years ago when their children were small. Her smile was radiant. His chest ached with a pain deeper than any bullet wound. He pressed his fingers against his eyes.

"My first love, my one true love for this lifetime is my wife." I pressed my lips together. The cold diamond sat in my palm, but warmth spread through my chest. "It's just a shame." Antonio suddenly sighed. "I only found out after I married her that Elena's nothing special. Women are only fun when they're young and beautiful." My hand clenched tight. The diamond dug into my flesh as the smile froze on my lips. "What about me, Don?" A sweet, soft voice suddenly rang out, full of wounded injustice. "You said your one true love is your wife, so what am I? Last night, you said you loved me most!"