Julia Donaldson Stick Man Novels & Stories

The woman was shaking so hard her earrings rattled, the man couldn’t meet my eyes. “Dov’è il mio denaro?” Where is my money? The lawyer opened his mouth again. “Violence won’t—” I drew the 1911, and thumbed the hammer. The lawyer’s sentence ended in a wet pop. His body hit the floor before the echo died, his brain and blood painting the wall behind him like abstract art. “Ahhhhggghhhhhh!!!” The woman screamed. The man pissed himself; I smelled it. I stood, walked around the table slowly.

Hot pants were naturally very short, and for comfort while sleeping, I hadn't even fastened the waistband. In fact, they could practically be slipped off with just a gentle tug. "I didn't expect it to feel so real. This new batch of dolls really is something else," Mr. Palmer said excitedly. He seemed to be leaning right over me from behind, and I could distinctly feel the warmth of his breath as he exhaled and spoke. My heart raced with a mix of panic and anger, yet I didn't dare move a muscle. I was terrified of the embarrassment that would follow if I were discovered.

Ignoring their presence, I focused on Adrian. "Little Miss Lily, how is your miserable life going?" Audrey couldn't resist calling out to me. I sincerely felt her and Don where moulded from the same clay. I decided to just pretend she wasn't there and focused back on Adrian, finding comfort in being around him. But alas, how would I expect so much in the midst of scumbags? Don came out of nowhere and swung his stick to strike Adrian, causing him to fall to the ground. Laughter erupted from the onlookers, except for Jaxon and me. Don's arrogance knew no bounds and I swore, I wanted to punch him so hard. Who did he actually think he was?

"You!" Julian's face turned red with embarrassment as he was rebuked by me in public, yet he still blocked my way, refusing to leave. "Clara, I've begged you so humbly. Don't you feel sorry for me at all? After a long silence, Julian squeezed out those words through gritted teeth, looking at me pitifully. Just as I was about to respond, I suddenly noticed a sturdy woman angrily approaching Julian, carrying a wooden stick as she laughed.

"Then how should I be? Like Vivian? Crying her eyes out over a sprained ankle and having the great Don kneel to put on her shoes for her?" The color drained from Rocco's face, and he let go of my arm. Just then, a dark figure lunged forward, and a fist slammed into Rocco's face. It was a solid punch, sending him staggering back into a coffee table. Julian shook out his hand and stepped in front of me. "Watch your fucking mouth, Rocco." Julian's voice had lost all its earlier playfulness. It was pure, cold menace. Rocco spat out a mouthful of blood. "This is between her and me, Julian. You, a Gravano family dog, dare to..."

Elio held our son, tucking the badge coiled with the black mamba into his swaddling. "From today, he is my sole heir." Cheers erupted, but the guests whispered in awe. "This Donna is legendary… ruling the Rossi family herself, and she's Elio Massimo's Donna too…" "Tsk," another sneered. "Heard the old Don Rossi shot himself. And Don Colombo… was found dead at the docks this morning. Enemy work, probably." In a corner of the hall, my consigliere quietly handed me a letter. "Madre… Don Colombo's final note."

I need to believe that to keep myself sane. “We should have a doctor check on you. We should go to the hospital,” he says, but I shake my head, squaring my shoulders. “No, I’m fine. I’m healed.” “I swear they’re going to pay for everything they did to you. I promise.” I stare at him, but for the first time, I don’t believe his threat. It doesn’t feel real. He’s always been the man everyone fears—the ruthless mafia Don. I would have thought his threats meant something, but after what I went through, I just don’t buy it.

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.

"The Don went to save Miss Leone. You can scream yourself hoarse. It won't help." "Everyone knows you've always had it out for Miss Leone. How do you think the armory blew up? We're not blind." "You'd better pray Miss Leone's fine. Otherwise, Don Galante will be the first to come for you." The pain in my abdomen surged, heavier and sharper than before. Something warm spilled down my thighs and soaked into my skirt. I tried to move. I tried to drag myself farther from the collapsed area. A loose chunk of stone fell from above and slammed straight into my pregnant belly.

The fire roared to life, crackling loudly in the quiet warehouse. Then Father gave another order. “Bring the basin.” I walked over to it and tried to lift it, but it was far too heavy. It barely moved. Nico opened his mouth, clearly ready to start his usual drama, but Father stopped him. “King of Ruin.” The man stepped forward without a word. He grabbed the huge basin and lifted it with one hand as if it weighed nothing at all.