Keep Your Head Up The Don Cherry Story Novels & Stories

His voice carried the ruthless bite of a Mafia Don,stabbing straight at me. "Elena.Don't tell me you're throwing another fit just because I gave Lila a necklace."

"I'm leading the extraction personally. If we're pulling Marco's nephew out of a trap, I need to be the one who does it." "Then come back." He reached out and cupped the back of my neck, pulling me close enough that our foreheads nearly touched. His breath was warm against my lips. His pulse beat against my palm where my hand had landed on his chest. "I'm not done fighting for you, little one," he murmured. "Not even close." Then he released me and walked toward the door, already issuing orders, the Don sliding back into place like armor. I watched him go with my heart in my throat and a phone number I wasn't supposed to call burning in my pocket.

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.

Cherry inhaled deeply and said, "I get it, but you have got to take care of yourself. Christ gave her a head rub and was taken aback by how composed she appeared. He anticipated her to cry and have tantrums in order to get her out of there. “Cherry, how are you feeling?” He inquired, pulling her from his embrace. “I am fine; you do not need to worry about me, and just tell me where are we?” She asked. Christ was still worried about her, but as of now, he decided to go with the flow and told her that they were on some deserted island with no connection with the outer world.

After the second shot, I allowed soda and ice to be used for a more formal cocktail. Don was Mister Smooth, far smoother than I remembered from when we assaulted the Philippines. He started regaling Cheryl with some story about how he saved Westinghouse (the makers of the new radar we learned about) millions of dollars… anyway, he eased Cheryl over to the couch. Maggie caught my eye and tilted her head towards the bedroom. I took her hand and we slid past the animated couple. We shut the door behind us. “Cheryl said we could. This way she can get rid of Don if she doesn’t like him.”

Their voice suggested that they're a man. “ Do not worry my dear Donny, he shouldn’t be escaping this...” Courtney chuckled as she said with a small smile. She bit the cherry and held it out between her thumb and index finger to observe the half-bitten cherry. “ I call checkmate”. She flashed a grin as she swallowed the rest of the cherry. “ Haha! If you say so,” The man cackled. “ I’ll send you the rest of your pay right after the final verdict” Courtney cut in coldly, slowly taking a sip of her red wine.

Donald carried the fruit and walked into Phoebe's house. Phoebe took the big imported cherries and washed them in the kitchen before bringing them out. Donald sat on her sofa and took off his green army jacket. "Eat the cherries!" Phoebe sat beside him. She liked eating cherries a lot, but it was too expensive. She wouldn’t buy them in daily life. Phoebe took one and fed it into his mouth. A hint of laughter flashed across Donald's eyes, and he immediately swallowed it. Phoebe was unable to react in time, and her hand was also sucked by him.

I looked up, my gaze cutting through the crowd to land on a face so gaunt and haggard it was barely recognizable. It was Damian. He’d done it. He’d burned every favor and used every dark contact in the underworld to cross the Atlantic and hunt down a classified meeting. He stood in the doorway, chest heaving, his eyes a roadmap of broken red veins. The Great Don of New York looked like a beggar, his eyes filled with a plea that crawled in the dirt. Security moved to intercept him, but he stood there like a hollowed-out puppet, staring at me, his breath hitching.

I took out my phone and snapped a photo before turning to leave, only for my foot to catch the flowerpot beside me. Matteo immediately turned around. "Who's there?" he snapped. The next second, the door was pushed open. By then, I was already seated on the couch as I unwrapped the things I'd just bought. I looked up at him in confusion. "What's wrong, Don Castello?" Matteo's gaze lingered on me for a long moment before he asked quietly, "When did you get back?" Pretending to be taken aback, I replied softly, "I just got home. Did something happen?"

I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, how his voice strained to stay in control. It would be way too easy to jump, let the world believe he had pushed me. Let them paint him as the villain. It wouldn't be that far from the truth. "I jump," I muttered in a voice that held no emotions. "and it’s your face on the headlines tomorrow. Wife of Infamous Mafia Don Pushed to her death!" He flinched, barely, but I saw it. "It would be a nightmare for you." "You won’t do it," he growled.