Novelas y relatos de The Don

“She’s strong. Obedient. She’ll work hard for you. Please, Don. Forty-eight hours. That’s all I need.” The Don stood up slowly. He was taller than I expected, towering over my father. He walked past him and stopped right in front of me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne; dark, expensive, masculine. He looked down at me, eyes tracing the swell of my breasts again, then lower to where my skirt hugged my wide hips and ass. “What’s your name?” he asked me directly. “Sofia,” I whispered, barely able to speak. “Sofia,” he repeated, tasting my name. His gaze dropped to my lips, then lower again. “You understand what your father is offering me?”

Maya Carter is a maid in the Romano mansion, barely surviving on dialysis while keeping her kidney failure a secret. Cold, ruthless Don Salvatore Romano hires her and expects silence, obedience, and invisibility. But when Maya collapses in the west wing and Sal finds her, something shifts. He notices her. He protects her. And slowly, the house that felt like a prison starts to feel like home. As Sal begins to care for Maya, enemies start watching. When Maya’s brother shows up asking for money, Sal chooses her over family. When Maya’s health crashes, Sal makes the impossible choice: he gives her his kidney. Going public at a gala puts a target on Maya’s back. A knife and her ph

Don suddenly voiced from behind while I turned around and then smiled gently. “Of course, she’s still in denial. Once she realizes how deep the betrayal runs, she will be back here, begging to take my offer.” I said firmly as I got into my chair and leaned back. “I’m off then, call me if anything comes up,” Don said and then left while I just nodded. Don is my private investigator. He does all the finding, digging, and dirty work. Being a billionaire heir with many competitors isn’t a child’s play. I’ve made so many enemies than I can count, and that’s where Don comes in. He helps keep them in check.

It’s loud enough that we almost miss the sound of the front door creaking open. Heavy footsteps thump against the foyer floor. Vivienne freezes, her smile faltering. “It’s probably just—” Renzo walks in before she can finish her sentence. His eyes find mine immediately which is weird. “The Don is tearing apart the city because of you.”

The man on the chair immediately starts to shake and I bit back my disgust when I notice he wets himself. Enzo sighs, shaking his head. “That’s the fourth time in thirty minutes.” The man in question sobs, although it is muffled because of the gag in his mouth. “What have you gotten so far?” “A new Monterro is in charge of our dealings. It’s the name I am looking for.” I take in the man, noting Enzo had already removed five of his fingers and from the way his legs were bent, Enzo had broken his knees too. “He is afraid of you. When I mentioned your name, he wet himself. And he did so again when you walked in.”

Luca’s POV The penthouse hallway felt like a war zone, even in the dead of night. Dmitri Volkov slumped against the wall, blood seeping from a gash on his forehead, his once-imposing frame trembling from what looked like withdrawal shakes. Maria hovered nearby, her face pale but composed, while Dante’s gun remained trained on the intruder’s chest. My heart hammered— this was Viktor’s nephew, the man who’d anonymously warned me about the Bratva’s schemes before the auction. Grudging respect? Maybe. But trust? Hell no.

His body arched off the table. Nothing. "Again! Clear!" This time the monitor beeped. Irregular, but there. I exhaled and my hands finally started shaking. The door opened and a woman walked in. Tall, elegant, wearing heels that cost more than my rent. "Dr. Rosabella Romano. Neurosurgeon." Her eyes scanned the wound. "L1 vertebra. Clean stabilization work. You know what you're doing." "Can you fix it?" "Here? No. But I can prevent further damage until we relocate him.

One voice cut through the others like a blade. “…the shipment routes are compromised. If Enzo thinks he can run his own plays behind my back, he’s more stupid than I gave him credit for.” My stomach dropped. That voice. Deep, controlled, laced with quiet fury. I’d only heard it a handful of times—at family dinners Enzo dragged me to, always from across the room. Dante Moretti. Enzo’s father. The Don. I froze, glass halfway to my lips again. What the hell was he doing here? Enzo said this was our night. Private.

Third Person's POV A month later, all of the Moretti family's assets in Newmont had been liquidated. Fiora had been arrested and was facing 13 charges. Lorenzo wasn't prosecuted, but his name had become a joke in the city. The once-powerful Mafia Don was now left with nothing. He moved out of that villa, the one where Elena had been drenched with ice water and beaten by bodyguards. Before leaving, he stood at the entrance and looked at it for a long time.

Don’s furious and thunderous shout frightened Tony and the others to their cores. Don was known for his ruthless fist of justice, showing no mercy to criminals, which earned him the moniker “The Grim Reaper of Crime”. Everyone was silenced by Don’s wrath. Some even started shaking. Even the arrogant Zenny stepped back and lowered his head. “C-Chief Braders, I am so sorry about this. My men are still searching for Master Lee…” Tony went up to Don attentively.