Novel & Cerita The Don's Counterfeit Heart

"You set this trap to prove a point. That I'm still loyal to you underneath everything. That Dante's control over me is fragile." Dante's jaw tightened but he stayed quiet. "So prove me wrong," Nico said. "You want out of this room? Give me something real. Information on Marco's operations. Proof that you're actually the Morettis' spy." "I'm not their spy." "Then you're their pet. Which is more pathetic?" Dante moved toward the speaker but I blocked him. "Don't. He's baiting you." "It's working." "Nico," I said clearly. "I'll give you something better than information. I'll give you the truth."

The days passed as if nothing had happened, but I no longer felt as happy as before. One day, Lorenzo decided to bring me to attend talks with the ancient Cecile Island family, the Cecilia family. He claimed that it would help me take things off my mind, but I knew that he only wanted to have the perfect Don image. A Don who cared about his wife and family.. Sofia, as the Don's Consigliere, naturally went along as well. She donned a wide beige trench coat and flats with minimal makeup on. She looked every bit the smart and professional woman that she was.

It's getting dark outside I'm sure. My broken heart kept beating as I closed my eyes and approached the TV. I intended to kill it right there because the remote control wasn't working but my shrill scream immediately echoed throughout the room because the bloody doll appeared on the screen just as I opened my eyes to find the male plug. I stood straight as I ran towards the door but before I could get close to it, it opened and spat out the pale Edmund. He let out a sigh of relief as his anxious eyes bore into me. I immediately went to him to hug him.

CHAPTER 180 Don stepped out slowly, his polished boots crunching over the blood-slick floor. His eyes trailed over the bodies of his fallen guards, and his brow lifted in dry amusement rather than rage. Well,” he said with a chilling grin. “The infamous devil in the flesh.” Lucifer aimed his gun without hesitation. But Don held up his phone. “One move, and this feed goes live,” he grinned. “You know what happens next.” Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “I’ll kill you.”

Blood stained the serene face of my mother that was carved into the sculpture. … Outside the operating room, Sofia sat calmly on a chair, completely unharmed. It was as if the large amounts of blood on her clothes were just paint she had accidentally spilled. As for me, the so-called Donna of the family, I had no choice but to take two painkillers and handle the fallout. Halfway through the surgery, a nurse hurried out, saying, "The hospital blood bank is running low. You need to find someone with type A blood to donate to Mr. Moretti."

"When you were looking at that magazine, your eyes were glued to this ring. Couldn't look away." "So I bought it for you." There was a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He had no idea I'd only stared at the ring so he could pay off his debt faster. The cold of the diamond crept up my finger and into my chest. I shivered. But he didn't need my help. Did he? The voice on the phone had just called him Don. The Angelo I knew was a broke kid drowning in mob debt. What a joke. "Three whole years," My voice came out cold. "A Don playing dirt-poor with me. Was it fun?"

Don exclaimed. As if he had gone mad, he subconsciously headed for the backstage area. Frowning, Tyr tugged him back. “What are you doing?” Don cried out animatedly, “Boss, true love! I found my true love! It’s that girl. This is the feeling of passion. I think I’ve fallen for her. I must take her as my wife!” Bam! Tyr showed him no mercy and punched Don in the stomach. He had packed some power in this attack, causing Don to hold his abdomen in pain as he returned to his seat.

Luca was utterly undone. In the first thirty seconds of his son’s life, this tiny human had dismantled every wall Luca Virelli had spent his entire life building. The ruthless Don, the man who had ordered deaths and burned cities for power, felt his chest crack open with a love so fierce and protective it stole his breath.

Yet, following a brief interval of absolute, dead silence, the tyrant raised his functional left hand, drew the paper from his pocket, and held it under his gaze. He folded the drawing once. Then he folded it again. He repeated the movement with slow, methodical precision until the artifact was reduced to a rigid, perfect square with flawless borders. Reaching out, he unfastened the internal concealed pocket of his formal wear, sliding the paper square deep into the lining—arranging it flat against the exact location of his heart. "Understood," he murmured. The vocalization was exceptionally light, yet Dorothea appeared entirely satisfied with the transaction. The little girl narrowed her la

“I’m going to see what’s going on and make sure everyone is okay.” Nico sighed heavily, dragging a hand over his face before looking briefly toward the ceiling like he was asking God for patience. Then he looked back at me. “I know you’re worried about Axel.” he began. “I’m not,” I answered way too quickly. “But,” he continued like I hadn’t interrupted him at all, “he is the Don for a reason. Do you think he became the Don because people voted for him and gave him gifts of love? He had to spill blood. He had to be ruthless. Trust me, He can take care of himself.”