Lirik Don T Fight The Feeling Novels & Stories

On Christmas night, I've roasted a whole turkey and paired it with the finest red wine. Then, I quietly wait for my boyfriend, Don Carlo Carlione from the Carlione family, to come home to me. When Carlo steps through the front door, he doesn't even spare me a glance. Instead, he throws his blood-stained coat onto the couch and starts undoing his cufflinks. "Something important is going on at the family HQ tonight, so I can't celebrate Christmas with you tonight." He sounds very casual, as though he's talking about the weather. I don't respond to him at all. Instead, I just slice my turkey quietly. Later on at 1:00 am, Carlo's ex-girlfriend, Lucia Caruso, uploads a social media post right on time. In the photo, she can be seen resting her head against Carlo's shoulder. The background shows a night sky filled with fireworks overcasting a grand bridge. The caption reads, "He told me he can always keep me company as long as I say the word." I don't hurl my phone in a fit of anger, nor do I call Carlo to demand for answers hysterically. Instead, I just leave a like on the post. 30 seconds later, Carlo calls me. For once, his voice is tinged with a hint of alarm. "This is just a misunderstanding! I'll definitely celebrate next Christmas with you!" I just shake my head with a soft sigh. "It's a shame that there's no next Christmas for us ever again."

With a sharp gunshot, my husband of twenty years, Marcus De Luca, rushed in front of me and took the bullet for me. As he lay dying, he spoke gently. “Nerina, live well.” I held him in my arms. My tears kept falling as I pressed hard against the wound in his chest. But he only touched my hair. His eyes fell on Vivian’s body. “She’s dead. I have no reason to live either.” It felt like a bullet had gone through my head. All the blood in my body froze. “She suffered in Sicily for twenty years.” “She finally came back, and now she died in front of me.” “Please stay alive. Bury me with her.” “If there is another life, don’t let her go to Sicily in your place again.” “Please make us whole.” His hand fell. My world collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of Marcus’s father. The old Don looked at me. “Your wedding with Marcus is set for three days from now.” I lifted my head and spoke calmly. “Marcus’s bride should not be me. It should be Vivian.” “As for Sicily, I’ll go.”

I served three years in federal prison for the Don's precious Sophia, and then he suddenly fell for me. The day he came to pick me up, he had a sapphire necklace ready, the kind I'd begged him for once and never got. I dropped it onto the back seat without a second glance. His expression darkened. "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't take it out on things." I smiled. "Three years inside taught me never to keep anything valuable on me. It would only bring trouble." He swallowed hard and pulled me close. "That's over now. You have me. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." I pushed him back. "Then give me my wedding ring." I'd told him once: if the day ever came that I was leaving, I'd take that ring with me. Three years had been more than enough to kill whatever love I had left.

On the night the Bianchi family goes bankrupt, I sell myself to the Moretti family of Newmont. Fiora Greco, the Madre of the family, has arranged for me to marry Don Lorenzo Moretti. But at that time, he's in love with a nurse named Sofia Ciampi. Although Sofia descends from the most chaotic district in Brookland, Lorenzo is willing to give up his position as the Don for her sake. Unfortunately for Lorenzo, Fiora threatens to off herself if he doesn't marry me right away. She claims that the Donna of a mafia family must never be a commoner. On the day Lorenzo and I get married, Sofia accepts a Mexara businessman's marriage proposal and leaves Newmont. When Lorenzo's speeding toward the airport in an attempt to chase after Sofia, he gets into a car accident, which results in him losing Sofia completely. Later on, he pins the blame of losing his beloved Sofia on me. Since then, everything I own and do has price tags attached to it.

Vittoria Guerra was raised to rule. Born into the Cosa Nostra, she was groomed as an heir, not a daughter. Trained to read people with deadly precision, Vittoria sees what others miss—lies, weakness, intention. Power is the only certainty she trusts. When an unexpected betrayal pulls her into the hands of the ’Ndrangheta, Vittoria finds herself trapped inside enemy territory where alliances are currency and survival demands sacrifice. What begins as a strategic arrangement quickly becomes something far more dangerous. In a world ruled by blood and ambition, trust is a risk and emotion is a liability. The Don’s Daughter is a dark mafia romance about legacy, control, and a woman who was raised as a weapon in a game where every move has a cost.

After Isabella loses the three children she carried for the mafia don Matteo, she finally tears herself away from his lies. But when Matteo discovers the truth behind the deaths, his guilt collides with the woman he once used as a pawn, and every secret he buried comes back to destroy the power he thought he controlled.

For six years, I took bullets for him and erased every sharp edge of myself. Because of the way he protected me, outsiders all believed I was the woman closest to his heart. However, when I asked for just one sincere “I love you”, he laughed and refused. “Mafia marriages aren’t about feelings. Know your place.” Then he said, “If Sophia doesn’t like it, don’t even bother.” When the bomb countdown hit thirty seconds, my don husband shoved me aside without hesitation and ran out holding Sophia in his arms. Only then did I understand that after six years of entanglement, I wasn't even worth a single hair of his sister. I slammed the divorce papers into his face. “I’m going to personally send you and your precious sister straight to hell!”

"I want a divorce," Cheryl said, placing the printed documents on his desk. Brian did not even hesitate. He signed his name at the bottom of the page and pushed the papers back across the table. "Take whatever money you think you deserve. Just make sure I never have to see you again." That was four years ago. Cheryl had spent three years in an arranged marriage, punished daily by her husband for vicious rumors she never actually committed. When Brian chose to pamper her manipulative stepsister while treating Cheryl with absolute cruelty, she finally walked away. She also chose to hide the fact that she was pregnant with his child. Today, Cheryl returns to the United States as the highly successful executive of Caldwell Biotech. She is solely focused on dominating the medical industry and raising her intelligent four-year-old daughter, Mira. When a massive business deal forces Brian and Cheryl into the same boardroom, Brian is shocked. He expects to easily intimidate the wife he discarded, but he is met by a powerful businesswoman who effortlessly blocks his every move. The corporate rivalry is difficult enough, but Brian soon crosses paths with the young girl standing by Cheryl's side. The child shares his exact features, prompting Brian to aggressively investigate the years Cheryl spent away from him. He is determined to uncover the truth, but he is about to learn that his wealth cannot buy back the family he deliberately destroyed.

I was the odd one out in the Chicago mob. Other men's women spent their time fighting for affection, clawing for power, watching out for the homewreckers. Not me. I spent mine cleaning up after my boyfriend, Don Vincent Maro. His political rivals — I squared away. His brother's messes — I handled overnight. The women he kept on the side — I dealt with personally. Last month it got worse. He asked me to go chase off a man who'd been hanging around Sofia, his new girl. Sofia pouted. "Elena really can do everything." Vincent said, "That's why I keep her around." Sofia asked, "Won't Elena be upset?" Vincent paused. "Her? She's used to it." Seven years. No title in the Maro family. No public acknowledgment. Just one function — fixing things. This time, I was tired. I slid the last stack of documents across to Vincent. He signed them one after another without looking up. When he was done, he asked: Anything else? I said: No. It's all handled. What he didn't know was that at the bottom of that stack was the document terminating every identity I held inside the Maro family. The moment his pen touched that page, I no longer belonged to the Maros. And I no longer belonged to him.

Kill or be killed: That was the motto of a predator and a prey. Turns out that was the same motto in love and relationships. Walking in on my fiancee making out with someone else was the last straw it took for me to break but to save myself the humiliation, I couldn't let the huge proposal I had planned out go to waste. What happens when the stranger I had forced a ring on turned out to be the Capobastone of the Ndrangheta Clan? Even worse, my ex boyfriend was involved in the mafia and the stranger was his boss. Fate twisted and lies were uncovered and I was caught up in a little cat and rat chase with a Mafia boss and there was no hope for me getting out. His words sealed my fate: "Now i didn't force this ring on myself, you did. Might as well add more meaning to it.”