When The Don's Pride Crumbled At My Feet Novels & Stories

"Don, it's dangerous over there!" The Soldati trailing him did not dare get too close. Anthony ignored them. Guided by memory, he climbed onto what was left of the top deck. He leaned his forehead against a pillar, tears sliding down silently. "I'm sorry. This is my fault. Come back, alright? "Mabel… As long as you're alive, I'll do anything." … No one knew how long the Don knelt there. When the alcohol surged through his veins, he braced himself and tried to stand.

Luca cursed under his breath, but he understood. I ended the call and grabbed my gun. This wasn’t just about me anymore. It never had been. This was about ending it, once and for all. The warehouse smelled like oil and decay, a forgotten relic of the city’s underbelly. Dim light flickered from a single hanging bulb, casting long shadows against rusted metal beams. And there he was. The Don. He stood near the center of the room, his once-pristine suit wrinkled, blood staining the cuffs. His empire was crumbling, and it showed in the way his hands twitched at his sides, in the flicker of something unhinged in his eyes.

he said I sighed and felt so defeated by that revelation, I was short of words too, so I simply stared at his face like a movie “I understand that you are passing through a tough time, but we can put our heads together and get rid of Alexia, we are the Pendragons, people fear us and tremble whenever we appear in public gatherings. Why should the heir to my father’s wealth be a coward?, it’s high time you reclaimed your dignity and pride” he said “How can I reclaim my pride and dignity when the love of my life is being threatened, never in my life did I ever think that I would be scared of a woman. Donald, I’m dying slowly and I can’t change anything now” I replied with tears in my eyes

Papa declared, his aged voice brimming with quiet pride. I turned to face the vast, dark assembly. As one, the crowd dropped to a single knee and bowed their heads in absolute fealty. "All hail Donna Corleone!" A deafening roar echoed through the heavens. My gaze cut through the crowd, landing on a black wheelchair in the corner of the piazza. Mia was there, wearing a beautiful dress and clutching her teddy bear, waving at me with all her might. Once the ceremony concluded, my Consigliere approached and handed me a medical report.

"A gift is a gift. Even if you repair the main piece, it's been worn by someone else. It carries her scent, her memory, her claim." I walked down one step toward him. "On the plane, you said once I walked off, I wouldn't be a Hart anymore. Congratulations. I walked off cleanly." He grabbed the hem of my coat. "I was wrong. I know I was wrong. I thought those things didn't matter. I thought you would never leave..." "No one waits forever." I stepped back, out of his reach. Kingsley came down the steps and put his arm around my shoulder. Possessive, but not rough. A statement more than a gesture.

Then his breath caught sharply in his throat. He knelt. The movement must have tore at his injured thigh, but he barely seemed to notice. He bent forward until his forehead struck the cold tile with a dull crack. “Please, Don. Don't kill me.” His voice shook violently. “I confess. I confess! Dario really sent me.” He struck his forehead against the floor again. “Please, Don. I have a family. I have a little daughter.” Tears spilled down his cheeks, cutting clean tracks through the grime on his face.

His words hurt more than the man’s grip on my hair. It was like everything inside me crumbled. Did Marco really see me as that replaceable? Was I really nothing to him? Tears spilled down my cheeks as I remembered the times I thought we were getting closer, when I thought he actually cared. But now... the ugly truth was impossible to ignore. ‘Maddie,’ I thought bitterly, ‘you’re not special to him. You’re nothing.’ I sat there, overwhelmed by heartbreak, not even sure which pain hurt more—the bruises on my wrists, the way the man was manhandling me, or the way Marco had just thrown me away with his words.

Even if the hell breaks loose, a Royal should never lower themselves, never get themselves dirty, and lose their pride. Pride… I gained it after spending all my life in a cage, on the verge of death, after drowning myself in the blood of my family. Even after coming so far…what use was it to me? When I couldn’t even get a single person on my side…what was the use of trying so hard? I bend the right knee first. The warriors guarding the premises gasp. It doesn’t matter now. I bend my left knee. Kneel on the dirty ground. And watch her back.

They didn’t expect to see him like that. “MI UNICO HIJO!” she screams at them as she hugs Angelito, but the Don is in pain. “Abuelo (Grandfather),” he calls Don Pedro, and his grandfather thumps his crane on the tile. “IMPERDONABLE! (Unforgivable!),” his voice echoes all over the mansion. Denver bows at them, afraid and shaking. “G-Good morning….” His fear sank when Donya Lilia pats his head while going back to his husband.

It wasn't Lucas's voice on the other end, but a burst of rough laughter. "The Don’s got some moves. Bella finally agreed to sign over the Gallo shares," a gravelly voice said. One of Lucas’s top guys. "If it weren’t for Miss Sofia whispering in the Don’s ear every day, saying Bella’s mother raised her wrong, that all she cares about is power, the Don would’ve never made up his mind."