Dr Don Novels & Stories

He guided me to the clinic, knocked on the door, and once they confirmed my identity, I was invited in. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Madison Rose Moretti. It’s a pleasure to meet you," Doctor Stella Hayes greeted me, gesturing for me to sit down. I smiled back, still unsure about why I was here, especially with Marco being the one to set it all up. "I’m sorry, Doctor, but I don’t really know why I’m here." "No worries. I just need to run a few tests to make sure you’re okay and figure out which contraceptive pills would work best for you," she explained.

NERO POV My forefinger beats a restless rhythm on the polished mahogany desk, the sound too loud in the silence of the consulting room My eyes drag from the gleaming nameplate, Dr. Marc Bernal, to the man himself. Or rather, to the back of the widescreen monitor completely obscuring his face. He’s been staring at that goddamn screen for what feels like an hour, and my patience is fast wearing thin. “I’ve got better things to do, Doctor.” My voice comes out with a flicker of annoyance.

"The traitor is alleged to have killed the Don's mother. The Don believed his mouth was killed by her father, so he is probably seeking revenge for the death of his mother. " Draven muttered, turning around to return back to his car. His business at the gala was done, he was not a social person and did not see the reason or importance of socializing, so he preferred to go back to his hotel room and enjoy some quiet time. "Does that mean, the mother of the Don was really killed by Mr. Vale? Isn't that what he is called?" His assistant muttered and Draven hummed, confirming the fact that his assistant was on the right track.

"When you were looking at that magazine, your eyes were glued to this ring. Couldn't look away." "So I bought it for you." There was a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He had no idea I'd only stared at the ring so he could pay off his debt faster. The cold of the diamond crept up my finger and into my chest. I shivered. But he didn't need my help. Did he? The voice on the phone had just called him Don. The Angelo I knew was a broke kid drowning in mob debt. What a joke. "Three whole years," My voice came out cold. "A Don playing dirt-poor with me. Was it fun?"

He would have buried me, mourned me for a few months, and then married Sofia, making her the official Don's wife. Before I could say anything else, a soft knock came at the door. An older man in a crisp white coat walked in, carrying a black leather medical bag. He had kind eyes and a steady hand, and he nodded at me respectfully. "Mr. Luciano. Mrs. Capelli." "This is Dr. Hale," Elijah said, pulling a chair up beside the bed. "He's one of the best internal medicine specialists on the East Coast. I had him flown in from Boston while you were unconscious."

Another man with silver hair and a narrow face stands when Kenneth gestures toward him, smiling modestly while donors clap. Dean’s voice comes through Everett’s hidden earpiece, low enough that only he can hear. “Doctor at front left. Nathaniel Brooks. Lawson Medical Outreach. Connected to heat intervention records.” Everett’s gaze fixes on the man. Brooks looks clean. Respectable. A doctor donors would trust with their daughters, their sons, their Omegas, their secrets. His tuxedo fits well. His smile is practiced. His hands are steady. Everett wonders how many forms those hands have signed while someone frightened waited in a back room.

She married him to save her father's life. He married her to settle a debt. Neither of them expected to fall in love. Isabella Romano never wanted this life. She grew up watching her father drown in debts he couldn't repay, surrounded by men who smiled while they threatened. She wanted freedom — a future she chose for herself. Instead, she got a wedding dress, a stranger's ring, and a debt paid in full through her own hand in marriage. Dante Moretti is the coldest don their world has ever feared. He took control of his family's empire at twenty-three and buried his heart alongside the woman he lost. To him, Isabella isn't a wife. She's a payment. A term in a contract he never wanted to

Dante had dropped my hand when the alert came through. The words were still ringing in the penthouse—Sophia's convoy, five vehicles, ETA twenty minutes—and he was already in motion, already the Don again, his fingers slipping from mine like water through a crack. I understood why. The room was full of his men. The drone feed was lighting up with enemy movement. The war demanded his attention. But the cold space where his hand had been ached like a bruise, and I couldn't stop staring at the back of his head as he bent over the console.

I put it around my neck. I am Dr. Victoria Preston. I am a surgeon. I am a mother. And I am never going back.

But he was MINE! "Don't worry sweetheart you are all I will ever need!" he said when she left the room. "That goes for all of us," They all said together, they did this a lot, it's a triplet thing! ...soon the door opened an elderly man walked in "Hello, I am Dr, Drake. ...and you must be Syla." he smiled. Then he looked at my mates. You all have grown so much, he smiled at the Triplet and you are?" he looked at Ryker, "Her Mate! Ryker." He smiled holding out his hand. He shook it, "Well let's get started, as he looked at my chart, the nurse had already taken my Blood Pressure, and temp, as well as a urine test.