The Don's Counterfeit Heart Novels & Stories

Why are my feelings flashing like neon lights? Still my shoulder slumps in relief. At least someone isn’t unreasonable putting a blame on me. I’m still mulling this over when one of Nero’s men bursts into the dining room. “The Don is back.”

It was Killian. He wore a perfectly tailored black bespoke suit. But he looked like hell. The once invincible mafia Don now had sunken eyes and sharp cheekbones. His eyes were horrifyingly bloodshot. The moment he saw me, his feet nailed to the floor. His dark eyes were a storm of raw hunger, desperate joy, and a pathetic longing that made my skin crawl. He reached out to me instinctively. His fingertips shook. He wanted to touch me. My security stepped up instantly and blocked him.

Just a rumor that no one was bold enough to say it loud lest they get themselves dragged out of their own houses at night. Anyway, Don was waiting for rest results the doctor had taken a few minutes back. By his bedside was the favorite of his wives. The only one who was able to conceive a baby girl but it died in its mother's womb and she had a still birth. She was seated with a magazine at hand, thumbing through the pages. There was also someone else in there. Don's right hand man and his aid de camp, the general of his entire army, Carlos was his name. Bald head, no beard making him look like an egg, hearing device in his left ear, red tie white shirt and black suit and he had this nasty

His hands were in his pockets, his head slightly tilted, as if this wasn’t his wife being humiliated before him, but some dull entertainment to fill his afternoon. And then there was Don. He leaned lazily against the pillar, his grin cruel and amused. His eyes dragged over me in a way that made my stomach twist. He didn’t even try to hide it. His scar caught the light as he smiled wider, his words slicing through the silence like a knife. “So,” he began, his voice dripping with mockery, “you’re really the same girl, huh? The same Adorable, Adorable Ronalds who pushed me away that night?”

“If I don’t have a diamond, no one will get to have their life in this place. Forget the diamond—if my grandmother dies in that hospital bed, I will bury bullets in all your heads.” “Please…my fiancée is innocent.” Lucas begins to say, and the Don looks at me with the gun dangling in his fingers. “Your fiancée?” he repeats. Slowly, he begins to walk toward me. “Hey, priest!” he yells and the gangsters shove the priest forward. The Don pulls me. He doesn’t care that I stumble in my dress; he yanks me along with him until we are set at the altar. The priest is forced to stand and I yank my hand away from the Don. His hands are still covered in Lucas’s blood, and I begin to smear it off, away m

The trees swayed under the pale morning light, their leaves whispering like ghosts. My wolves patrolled somewhere out there, unaware that their Alpha stood here, haunted by a woman who should’ve been nothing more than a transaction. But she wasn’t. Donna. Even her name burned on my tongue like forbidden wine. When I had seen her collapse at the auction — body limp, skin marred with bruises, spirit crushed — something primal in me had surged. I’d told myself I bid on her because it was mercy. Because no woman deserved to be sold like that. But the moment I caught her scent, I knew mercy had nothing to do with it.

“Remember, you're the one walking out. This is all your choice. And this diamond, I'll be giving to my Donna.” With that, he set the box in Daphne's palm. It was just like the day he said he'd marry me. “Thank you, Don, I'm so happy!” Daphne wrapped herself tight around Raphael from behind, and mouthed at me without a sound. “A dead woman's keepsake. So damn unlucky.” Blood rushed to my head, and I lunged to take it back. “Don't you dare insult my mother, give it back!” The instant I touched her, Daphne shrieked and let herself fall backward.

"Did the beast hurt you?" Just that one question, and my heart melted completely. "Daemon, I can marry you. But before that, has there ever been another woman who owned your heart?" "I don't share my man. Not in any way." He pointed to his heart, his gaze unwavering as he met my eyes. "Before you, this was empty." After we married, the word on the street in New York's circles of power was this: If you angered Don Thorne, his Donna might plead your case. But if you angered the Donna, you were on your own.

Grace appeared to be clueless “The Don” Ben said and almost laughed when he saw how her eyes looked like they would fall off from their socket “The Don?” She asked “I dont know what you are talking about. I have no enemy and I dont know who the Don is” she added, even if that was true, the fact that she said she didn't know the Don would make anyone raise their eyebrows, everyone knew who the Don was “Perhaps I should refresh your mind a little “ he said as he wondered why she pretended the Don hadn't just make her experience what he thought was the worst moment of her life

The fingers which held the card trembled violently, from where Franklin stood he couldn’t read Donn’s expression but having known him most of his life he could guess the amount of pain his friend was in, all this is caused by a mere wedding invitation. How ironic is it that the mighty, ruthless Mafia Don is hurt by a wedding invitation! “Are you going to do nothing and watch her get married to someone else?” The atmosphere in the office tightened, Donn’s jaw was clenching down against his teeth, this discussion was one he dreaded. He dropped the card and leaned further into his chair. “You want me to kidnap her?” He presumably asked but Franklin knew better that this was all a facade so he a