My Don Wants Two Wives Novels & Stories

They were just leaving the boutique, flanked by their new mistresses. The moment they recognized me, they deliberately fanned out to block my path. “Well, if it isn’t Donna Cross. We haven’t seen you around lately.” “Haven’t you heard? The Don filed a preemptive divorce suit against her. She isn’t the Donna anymore—the real lady of the house just walked right past us a minute ago.” The men erupted into crude, mocking laughter. “That throne belonged to her sister in the first place anyway.” “Word is this one refuses to sign the divorce papers, so the Don was forced to sue her. You should just sign the damn things and save yourself whatever dignity you have left.”

Overnight, Lux went from being a kidnapping survivor to the unstable, obsessive, jealous madwoman everyone whispered about. Meanwhile, Lorenzo and Bianca were effortlessly recast as the innocent victims, unfairly harassed and slandered by her. Sometimes, conversations from passing visitors drifted through the hallway outside her room. "I heard Donna Antara lost her mind and started accusing her own sister." "The Don really has terrible luck. His wife survived and came back alive, only to lose her sanity. And now Miss Bianca lost the baby too." "But he's still willing to stay by her side and take care of her. Lorenzo really is devoted."

"Don Brocchi said that for the sake of our baby, he'll give me everything you have. An infertile woman like you should've left the Brocchi family already instead of embarrassing yourself. "You know what? I'll even allow you to stay on the island and give you a respectable job so you can support yourself." I stared at the screen, neither ruffled nor tempted to reply. Instead, I simply congratulated her in my mind. "You'll have your wish fulfilled very soon, Anna, and so will I. Tomorrow, I'll say goodbye for good." Meanwhile, the household staff kept texting me nonstop, asking where I was and urging me to come home. "Please return, Donna. Don Brocchi keeps asking where you went and when you l

"Are you trying to make me jealous? Careful, or I'll walk into your office and announce to everyone that Don Vito Hart is cheating on his wife. With his old mistress." A chuckle. "Behave. Don't let her find out." The doors opened. He was standing there. Vito Hart. My husband. The Don of the Hart family. Suit sharp, tie straight. He stepped forward, wrapped an arm around Rosa's waist, and kissed her. She laughed and pulled back. He pulled her closer and kissed her deeper. She tapped his chest. "There's someone here…" Vito finally looked up. I turned away fast. My eyes burned.

I held him through the night terrors, wiped the blood from his hands, sat with him in silence when the world felt like it was closing in. With me by his side, Luca crawled out of hell. His voice came back rough, gravelly, permanently scarred. And it took him only one year to hunt down every traitor in the family, to take his rightful place as Don of the Vitali Family, the unchallenged Capo dei Capi of the Sicilian underworld. I was the one he kissed, touched, loved in the dead of night, when the world outside didn’t exist. But never in my worst nightmares did I imagine that the first thing he’d do, once he held all the power, was sign a legally binding marriage contract with the woman who’d

I was operating on my husband, Don Cassius Vitelli, when I removed a bullet lodged less than an inch from his heart. He'd refused general anesthesia just so he could stay on the phone with his childhood sweetheart, Mia Russo. He'd insisted on local anesthesia instead. "Stitch faster," he ordered, gripping his phone and fighting not to tremble. Watching him wince in pain, I fought to keep my nerves in check as I pulled out a document and slid it in front of him. "It's a consent form for your post-op medication. Standard procedure." I looked at him. "Sign it, and I'll take care of the rest." Cassius didn't hesitate for a second. Cassius had fought his way to the top and he trusted no one. He n

I brushed my hair and left it falling over my shoulders before slipping into a pair of comfortable flats. When I stepped out, Nikolai was waiting near the door. His eyes moved briefly over my appearance before he turned away. "Let's go." I followed him out. We walked down the grand staircase, passing several staff members who immediately lowered their heads when they saw him. "Good morning, Don Martello." "Good morning, sir." Nikolai acknowledged them with brief nods. I kept my eyes forward, feeling uncomfortable under their curious glances. Some of them looked at my ring. Others looked at me as though they were trying to figure out how I had ended up married to their Don.

The Norman family had an unwritten rule. Only the Don's daughter could inherit the family business. As the Don's first adopted daughter, I had the whole family on my shoulders: the docks, the casinos, the arms trade, 72 crews, and more. Too bad I didn't know the first thing about the business. So the Don sent his advisor, Oliver, to handle everything for me. Every gun and drug deal crossed my desk, and none went through until I signed off. But in ten years, I never even opened the books. And the golden lion seal, the symbol of the Norman family's power? I'd press it into wax without a second thought. Over time, I had less and less say in the family. There was even a saying going around the f

The year I turned 19, I met my father's adopted brother, Luca Ferraro, for the first time. He was the most ruthless Don in all of Sicily, and on paper, he was my uncle. That day, he looked into my eyes and couldn't seem to tear his gaze away. From then on, I was his personal assistant by day, never more than a step from his side. By night, he tore my stockings and took me on his desk. For five years, I was his secret lover. He had me wear red dresses and get a rose tattooed on my thigh. He turned me into exactly what he liked best. Then Sofia Russo, the woman he'd never gotten over, came home. He walked out of a meeting with his men to pick her up at the airport. I followed him there and saw

Nico kept staring at me for a long minute before he chuckled, shaking his head. “I can’t believe the formidable Don is in love with his wife—and so deeply that he’s planned all of this for her. But...” He paused, and I waited for him to finish. “You know your family is pressuring her for an heir. Even I had to schedule her medical checkup appointments because your mother ordered me to.”