Jennifer Donnelly Books Novels & Stories

"And these foreign large diamonds are top-notch. They're absolutely rare treasures that would make many women scream. They complement your unique aura perfectly." Jennifer, however, simply crossed her long legs, wrapped in black stockings, and said casually, "Thank you for the gifts. Now, what's your other purpose?" She had long since detected that there was more to his visit than met the eye. Donovan didn't beat around the bush. He smiled and said, "Jen, you're as sharp as ever, and I admire that. To be frank, I've recently joined Campbell Pharmaceutical as the Product Department Manager." Donovan's excitement was palpable.

And Luca Moretti had no intention of dying anytime soon. As he stepped into the cool night air, he straightened his shoulders and set his jaw. Time to put on the mask of the charming businessman, to hide the ruthless don that lurked beneath. It was a dance he'd perfected over the years, but tonight, for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint, it felt more suffocating than ever. Little did he know, across town, a fiery redhead was burning the midnight oil, poring over documents that would soon turn his carefully constructed world upside down. The game was about to change, and Luca Moretti had no idea what was coming for him.

To repay Victor for saving my life, I gave up a brilliant career as one of America's finest neurosurgeons and willingly became his trophy wife. For seven years, Victor lavished money on me and treated me with bone-deep tenderness. Yet his obsessive rules suffocated me. Every other week, I had to subject my scalp to agonizing bleach treatments to keep my hair icy platinum. I had to bathe in a discontinued Venetian white iris perfume. And I had to wear a fake beauty mark at the corner of my right eye. I once mistook it all for the obsessive devotion of a Mafia Don. Then, on the eve of our wedding of the century, I found a wall covered with portraits of another woman. The measurements of my gow

"Please! Please, I’m sorry I betrayed you, Don! It wasn’t intentional!" I chuckled softly, amused by his pathetic attempts at redemption. Unintentional? Was that his excuse? My gaze remained on the apple as I asked, my tone calm, almost curious, "Unintentional, you say?" He stammered, but I didn’t need his explanation. I already knew the truth. His hands didn’t "accidentally" steal an entire shipment of guns. I set the apple down, finally meeting his terrified eyes. The fear in them was satisfying—a reminder that betrayal in my world came with a steep price.

Apparently, he wasn't as sleek as he thought he was. He hadn't confirmed the rest of the details yet, so it meant I was safe, for now, and I still had time to knock him off his tracks. I had an edge, a small flickering edge. My eyes scanned the office again, desperate for something, anything that could help me out right now. I was this close to giving up when I spotted it. It was a calligraphy set, sitting pretty on one of the side shelves. It held everything one would actually need; ink, pens and besides it a small bottle with the label "Ink Remover."

The movement is slow from pain, but the intention is clear. "Elena," a crack in his voice, "She paid. I... I paid too. I canceled the Bratva alliance. The Five Families know—I knelt for a Rossi woman, for a bookkeeper, abandoned a billion-euro deal. I knelt before the Commission, Elena. Not metaphorically. Really knelt, admitting I almost lost the heirs because of a stupid alliance. I told them you’re my Donna, the only one, with or without a wedding." I listen. This information flows over my skin like water, not penetrating. Donna. Heirs. Billion euros. Once, these words would accelerate my heartbeat, make me feel I’d won the war. Now, just noise.

"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?"