The Don Novels & Stories

He stood and strode across to her grabbing her from Janie, ‘Ascoltate tutti, state lontani da questa ragazza, va bene? Lei è mia e se qualcuno di voi si avvicina a lei vi ucciderò.’ [Listen up all of you, keep away from this chick alright? She’s mine and if any of you go near her I will kill you.] His gaze went around the room and he had pulled himself up to his full height looking intimidating, ‘Lei è la donna Dons. Quella di cui tutti parlano.’ [She is the Dons woman. The one everyone is talking about.]

Don appeared in the doorway. He was wearing the weekend version of himself — the pullover and the old trousers and the specific ease of someone at home on their own Sunday. He looked at Ernest at the desk with the journal open and did not ask what he was writing. He came into the room. He sat on the floor beside the desk, his back against it, looking at the fire. "Good?" he said. "Yes," Ernest said. "Good." "The Kessler programme starts Tuesday," Don said. "I know."

"Your father is asking about you." That is Luca's way of saying come home before I send someone to drag you back. So here he is. --- The guards at the gate recognize him. They always do. "Mr. Nico." "Enzo." He claps the man on the shoulder. "You look tired. Is my cousin working you too hard?" Enzo almost smiles. Almost. "The Don is in the main house." "I assumed he wasn't in the stables." He walks through the gates, his shoes crunching on the gravel. The driveway is long. He has walked it a thousand times as a boy, running from his tutors, hiding from his father, chasing Luca through the gardens.

“Raphael, you really are a hopeless bastard.” Seeing me cry, his body flinched, and he moved toward me on instinct. But Daphne suddenly caught his arm and said softly, “But Donna, the Don is only stating a fact.” “Seven years of marriage. You really haven't given him an heir.” “Any other man would have dumped you long ago, but the Don put up with you for seven whole years!” “He never said a word, and you're the one asking for a divorce. Aren't you being selfish? You don't spare a thought for how hard this is on him.”

Day three of the silent treatment. My husband Adrian Veta, the Don, once again went behind my back and approved Mirena Ricci's deeply flawed port logistics plan. He thought I would argue my case as I used to do at family meetings, but I merely responded faintly. When he saw that, he handed Mirena the docks I had spent years managing and dismissed several men who had openly supported me to establish her authority. Still, I did not fight back. Mirena smugly leaned against him. "I told you that she'll learn her place once you neglect her. She can't bear to leave you." Adrian agreed wholeheartedly. That evening, he made a rare visit to the estate, promising

Lucien yelled and Don Luciano laughed like he had just cracked a joke. For some unknown reasons, his laughter sent shivers down my spine as they echoed around the whole room. "I don't need a prep-talk from a boy, barely man enough to treat his wife right? Didn't you abandon Aria for your slutty secretary and oh! that reminds, punish her for the death of your ex-wife, when she absolutely had nothing to do with it?" Don Luciano inquired as he brought out a cigar from the case in his hand, before lighting it up and puffing out the smoke in the face of his son.

I didn't even have to go out of my way to find news about the celebrated Don. I only had to listen to the gossip from the low-level enforcers collecting protection money on the street corners to piece together his movements. "Hey, you hear? Don Connor popped ten bottles of Louis XIII at the club last night just because that woman, Riley, said the champagne was too dry." "And get this, I hear he bought her son a purebred racehorse for over half a million dollars!" "I heard the Don has a wife, but she's never been seen in public. Poor thing."

"The traitor is alleged to have killed the Don's mother. The Don believed his mouth was killed by her father, so he is probably seeking revenge for the death of his mother. " Draven muttered, turning around to return back to his car. His business at the gala was done, he was not a social person and did not see the reason or importance of socializing, so he preferred to go back to his hotel room and enjoy some quiet time. "Does that mean, the mother of the Don was really killed by Mr. Vale? Isn't that what he is called?" His assistant muttered and Draven hummed, confirming the fact that his assista

Matteo’s childhood sweetheart, Sofia, was trapped between the floors of an elevator for forty minutes. Convinced that I had been jealous of Sofia, Matteo personally locked me inside the family restaurant’s walk-in freezer. “The despair Sofia felt, you need to feel twice over.” My teeth chattered from the cold as I hugged myself and desperately explained, begging him to let me out for the sake of our marriage. But Matteo took the emergency key and locked the freezer door. “Only when you learn to behave yourself are you worthy of continuing to be my Donna.” With stiffened hands, I pounded on the door until my knuckles cracked, my blood freezing into dark ice on the floor. Six days later, he ca

Please, let my love be safe with our child. The bastard on the screen leaned forward, and linked his palms together, mockery and seriousness in his eyes. "It was fun burning your warehouse, bombing your ship on your little date, and watching you and that little whore run around in circles. Looking for me? Here I am, Don. Oh, I forgot, you are useless now." Useless... Helpless... The words banged into my head, mocking me to shit as I struggled to move my stupid stuck body. Fucking hell! "Wh...the fuck are you!..." I managed to say, heat pooling in my skin with each attempt I made to move my lips.