Donuts Book Novels & Stories

In those charged moments when his thumb brushed my pulse? The conversation shifted to shipments and alliances. I retreated to the bed, mind racing. Lila’s text from earlier nagged at me. Girl, you okay? Enzo’s losing it. She’d always been my rock—the one who listened to my fears about being used. But something felt off. Too quick. Too convenient. My phone vibrated again. Another message from an unknown number: Don’t trust the Don. He uses everyone. Come to the lobby. I can get you out.

Still, I could feel the tension lingering between us. Because in a city this big, under lights this bright, danger could still be waiting just around the corner. We wandered into a bookstore a few blocks from the restaurant. Alessandro disappeared into the aisles like a man entering a cathedral. Meanwhile, I stood there reading the back covers of books I would never buy in my life. Forty minutes later—yes, I counted—Alessandro finally returned. He had two novels and a thick art book tucked under his arm. The cashier bagged them neatly, and Alessandro handed the bag to me without even looking.

"Bella, these aren't our regulars. These are people ordering the most expensive items and leaving huge tips. They're not here for your mother's recipes. They're here to be seen at the Don's wife's restaurant." The words hit harder than Isabella expected. She'd worked so hard to build this place on quality, on authenticity, on her mother's legacy. Now it was just another status symbol. "Show me the kitchen," she said abruptly. Dante followed as Isabella pushed through the swinging doors. The kitchen was clean, organized, but something was off. She checked the spice rack half the containers were store-bought instead of her custom blends. The pasta dough in the cooler was the wrong texture. The

"Anna never hurt me. She saved my life. She's such a good woman. Why didn't you cherish her?" She finally screamed out everything she'd been holding in. Her whole body almost gave out. For the first time, Leone's face twisted into something close to desperate and disheveled. Yeah. Why hadn't he known how to cherish her... ... It was evening in Santoria. I'd just stepped out of the supermarket, planning to have a barbecue with Jason for dinner. My right hand still couldn't exert too much strength, but after several surgeries and rehab, I could at least carry a few light bags.