The Don's Counterfeit Heart Novels & Stories

I followed his gaze and I saw a counter about to fall on us. My heart dropped as I continued staring at it. I was instantly snatched away as the counter made a loud thud after falling where we stood. My back met the floor aggressively, making me close my eyes as I let out a whimper. I felt a weight on me. My heart raced at the thought of the person. I opened my eyes slowly. The Don was on top of me. Again. And again, I feel how perfect his weight on me is. Damn. He is looking at the counter behind us.

The moment we stepped into the changing room, her saccharine smile vanished. Lowering her voice, she asked in a voice full of unmasked hostility, "Rosalie, do you remember the time when you got locked in the equipment room all night back in high school? You cried until you lost your voice, but no one came. Do you want to experience that again?" Of course I remembered. That night left me with crippling claustrophobia. "What are you getting at?" I said in disgust. She shrugged and replied, "If I were you, I'd get lost before the wedding. We look so much alike. No one would even notice if we swapped with each other. Daniel loves me, not you. I'm the one who should be his bride."

I'll never let anything hurt you again. "The family, the title, all of it can be yours. I'll step down as Don if that's what you want. We can walk away from the Mafia, from all of it." I listened quietly until he finished, then I took a small sip of my coffee and calmly replied, "Cesare, it's too late." "It's not too late." Cesare grabbed my hand. "We still have a future. If you come back to me, I'll give you anything."

Her lips, cheeks and nose had this permanent flush that made her look innocent — completely hiding the fact that she's a bred assassin. The short black and white gown that hugged her slim body created a familiar heat inside Antonio. The Don tightly shut his eyes to get rid of the flaming lust inside of him that was beginning to build up. Another body passed through the door with a file in his hand. “What you asked for Don.” The guard spoke, handing over the brown enveloped file containing Alina's background information to his boss. There was a minute silence before Antonio's voice rattled “you see,” he began, raising the papers up. “I just ran a background check on you.”

And Luca Moretti had no intention of dying anytime soon. As he stepped into the cool night air, he straightened his shoulders and set his jaw. Time to put on the mask of the charming businessman, to hide the ruthless don that lurked beneath. It was a dance he'd perfected over the years, but tonight, for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint, it felt more suffocating than ever. Little did he know, across town, a fiery redhead was burning the midnight oil, poring over documents that would soon turn his carefully constructed world upside down. The game was about to change, and Luca Moretti had no idea what was coming for him.

Her voice so sugary it could melt any stone cold heart, even his heart that are made of rocks seem to melt by just her voice. Who is she, he thought to himself. An Angel, he replied himself. He wanted her, and thought of her being with another made his blood boil. She could erase the loneliness and bitterness he felt, He could just dragged her home but decide against it. She deserves better than that but in his heart he knew she wouldn't be with him willingly. He is the Mafia's Don after all, a girl like this Angel won't be with him, that's why he would have her by force.

The whole room fell dead silent. Orlando was the first to react. He swung his hand up. Smack! He slapped me back. My cheek burned, and the taste of rust filled my mouth. I turned my head back to look at him. His face had the cruelty of a circling vulture. "Ophelia. You're not fit to insult my Donna." [oh my god! the male lead went way too far! that was the villainess's late mother's keepsake!] [the lead's an actual animal! he knew exactly how much that bracelet meant!]

"When he was dying, I found the match, I found the donor and I paid for it. I made sure he lived." My jaw drops. "That... that’s insane. I’m the donor. I gave him my heart! I’m the one with the machine in my chest! I did that for him!" Tasha laughs again, louder this time. "You? You just signed the papers, Gianna. You got the artificial heart because yours was weak and useless anyway. You didn't save him. You just used his sickness to get a new toy for yourself. And how’s that working out for you?"

This was the heart of the Corleone family’s filth and corruption. Ever since marrying Vincenzo, I hadn’t been to a place like this in a long time. I wore a black, tight-fitting slip dress. The zipper at the back was pulled down to my waist, deliberately revealing the bullet scar below my shoulder blade. There was a long-lost arrogance in my gaze. With chips between my fingers, I paused for two seconds at the betting table. I skipped past the Corleone-controlled “Ace of Spades” area and slammed the chips onto the opposing table, “King of Hearts”.

The cold weight of the evidence bag in my hand felt like holding a live grenade. Proof. Not just of a stolen bone marrow donor, but of attempted murder. Doña Caridad had ordered a hit on her own son to control him. The foundation of Lanc’s entire myth, his origin story, was a lie crafted by his mother.