Donuts Book Novels & Stories

“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.”

After getting remarried, I put my husband, Steven Graham, on the family's service roster at a rate of ten thousand dollars an hour. His childhood sweetheart, Julie Ziegler, heard about it and signed a long-term contract without a second thought. Four months later, the balance in my offshore account had climbed to nearly a million dollars. On our wedding anniversary, Steven was supposed to spend the day with me. Then Julie called. Her dog had suddenly gotten sick, and she asked him to go to her. I didn't get angry. I simply sent her an encrypted message. [Don't forget to transfer the payment on time. Late fees will be charged separately.] Later, when I had an attack of appendicitis, St

I was so used to having him by my side in the middle of an important mission, and tonight was no exception. "Fuck, Enzo didn't say which of the houses would be his," Antonio cursed. My mind went through the information I had about Don. He liked to leave a mark wherever he went. What were the odds that he did the same to his hideout? "Two parallel slashes," I whispered to Antonio. "Look out for that; I have a feeling if we find it, we find Don." Antonio nodded, and we split to either side of the street. After a few minutes of looking carefully at each gate, I finally saw the slashes I was looking for. It was quite prominent, meaning that Don didn't fancy hiding himself - just the arrogant per

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.

And trust me—if you think things are intense now… you haven’t seen anything yet. So stay close, stay ready, and keep reading, because Claimed by the Don is only getting hotter, darker, and more irresistible from here. Wishing you a Merry Christmas filled with joy, love, and a little bit of dangerous romance. 💋🎁 With love, Your Author 💖

"I've eaten some, just not a lot. I have been getting little dizzy spells but my emotions are all haywire. I'm fine though. I'll be sure to eat some more fruits and protein." He scratched his chin thinking. "Do you think maybe, you could be pregnant?" My mouth dropped open. "Absolutely not! You gave me pills the other week, remember." "I do. I also recall Don stating he hasn't been wearing a condom at his last checkup. Birth control isn't 100% effective." "Ew! Why would he tell you that? And no, I'm not pregnant. Life can't be that f*cking cruel." "I actually didn't need to know. He wrote it proudly on his form. I won't repeat what it said though. Don is a... complicated man. I know he shows

he said proudly. “Oh, very nice. The dinosaur must be very happy to have such a unique shape.” We laughed together, the house feeling warm even as the night air grew cooler. The kitchen was a complete mess of flour all over the counter, cutters scattered everywhere, and the floor covered in little pieces of dough but somehow, I felt this was exactly the kind of moment I would remember for a long time. After the donuts were done frying, their sweet aroma filled the entire house. Noah couldn’t wait. As soon as the donuts were on the plate, he grabbed one, blew on it briefly, then took a big bite.

The former Don of the Moretti family now lived on a monthly salary of three thousand dollars. He rented a small apartment in Crown District and took the subway to work every day. He would eat deli sandwiches for lunch. On weekends, he went to the supermarket to buy things on sale. The sycophants who once trailed behind him now pretended not to know him when they ran into him on the street. Occasionally, a few of the bolder ones would deliberately mention Elena's name in front of him. "I heard Elena is doing well in Eldoria and has found a new boyfriend."

"Really pretty. Like a princess. Like the princesses in Madison's books." My eyes are stinging. "Thank you, sweetheart." "You're welcome." He nods. Satisfied. Then his face changes—that lightning-fast shift from serious to excited that only children can do. "Also I'm HUNGRY! Can we get donuts? The ones with sprinkles? Donuts have HOLES which makes them basically ZERO calories—" "Alexander." "—Ethan told me that's not how calories work but Ethan is WRONG because the hole part has NO calories, that's just MATH—"

Birds had nested in the dashboard. At midday, they stopped to eat. Damon pulled from his pack a battered copy of *Watership Down*, which he’d scavenged from a burned library two towns back. He read aloud as they chewed dried fruit and jerky, his voice soft and oddly reverent. It was the only book they’d kept, after the world ended. As he read, Elena watched Donovan run perimeter checks, ever alert. She wondered if this vigilance would ever break, if he could ever trust in the possibility of a future. Damon caught her glance and folded the book shut, reading her mind as always.