Don 3: The Final Chapter Novels & Stories

At the afterparty, my daughter, Mia Volpe, suffers from a sudden asthma attack. She collapses to the carpeted floor and goes through a seizure on the spot. But my Capo husband, Lorenzo Volpe, wraps an arm around his secretary, Sophia Bianchi, while watching Mia suffer before his eyes. Sophia had once shown him a forged paternity test of Mia and him. As such, he firmly believes that Mia is the bastard child of me and a Soldato. When Mia tries to reach out for Lorenzo, her complexion already bluish-purple from suffocation, he merely averts his gaze with a disgusted look on his face. "Daddy… S-Save… me…" I look everywhere for Mia's inhaler like a madwoman, only to realize that it's already empty. Sophia covers her mouth while tittering softly. "Dear me, Mia sure has an affinity for acting! Elena, I can't believe you and your daughter are willing to go to such lengths just to get Lorenzo to pay attention to you! "Since Mia likes acting that much, she might as well make the performance perfect." She lifts a high-heeled foot before crushing Mia's fingers, which were attempting to curl around Lorenzo's pant leg. Poor Mia was in so much pain, yet she couldn't let out a single sound. All she could do was scream silently into the void with her mouth wide open. I kneeled on the floor, my forehead already bleeding from smashing it against the floor repeatedly. "Lorenzo Volpe, Mia is your flesh and blood! Please, I'm begging you! Give me some medicine or call a doctor!" But Lorenzo just looks at me coldly, as though he's looking at trash. "A bastard like her is better off dead. Elena Corleone, stop using such underhanded methods to spoil everyone's mood." At that moment, what little love I still harbor for this man completely dissipates as I feel Mia's heartbeat gradually weaken. I no longer beg him for help. With trembling hands, I press the button on the emergency transmitter that I've sworn I'd never touch. That transmitter is the direct line to the highest authority in Smeraldia—my father, Don Vito Corleone.

I’ve got a killer hourglass figure and siren eyes. In Hollywood, I’m the ultimate sex symbol. But after five years in this town, not a single producer would dare lay a finger on me. Because the man in my bed is Don Vincenzo, the most ruthless mafia boss in New York. Seven years together. Every time we finished, he’d hold me close, kiss me, and carry me to the bathroom to clean me up. I naively thought I’d be the only woman by his side. That I'd even be his Donna. Until the night of my 28th birthday. After the family dinner, I heard him sneer to his underboss: "Chloe is fun to play with, but for my Donna, I have other options." In that instant, I ripped out my cheap, pathetic heart. I became exactly what he wanted: a perfect mistress who only cared about his money. But Vincenzo didn't seem to like that. His dark, dangerous eyes locked onto mine. "Besides this Manhattan penthouse, is there really nothing else you want from me?" I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting out a fake gasp of surprise. "You mean I can pick out a Ferrari, too?"

On my eighteenth birthday, the boy I'd secretly loved for years kissed me first. After a night of passion, I traced the marks on my skin and thought it was all a dream. I was ready to make it official. But the next day, my nude photos were plastered across the entire school. When I confronted him, Damien Ashford laughed with bloodshot eyes: "Blame your mother. If she hadn't turned a blind eye while those girls destroyed Rosalie, Rosalie would never have killed herself." "Now let's see — when her own daughter becomes the school whore, will she still just sit back and watch?" That was the moment I understood. Every tender word from the night before had been a weapon. In the end, my mother slapped me hard across the face and dragged me away. Years later, we met again. He had become the Don — the most powerful man in the underworld. And I was a dealer in his brand-new casino. He offered me up like a chip for other men's amusement, then claimed me himself after the game — the winner taking his prize. I didn't resist. Didn't struggle. Obedient as a puppet. But he froze. His eyes locked onto the stretch mark across my stomach.

Emilia falls in love with her older brother's best friend, Matthew. However, she is too afraid to express her feelings, fearing rejection. After a night of heavy drinking, she ends up sleeping with him, and the night is passionate, but she gets pregnant without anyone knowing. She leaves New York and moves to Italy, deciding to have no further involvement with her father's mafia business. However, three years later, she has to return for her brother's wedding. She never expected that what seemed to be a happy event for her brother would mark the beginning of all her suffering and struggles. Losing loved ones and reuniting with the man she loves deeply, can Emilia control everything, seek revenge for her family, and find her true love? . . "Emilia, who is the father of the child?" Matthew asked coldly, his gaze dark and filled with anger and jealousy, though no one, not even Emilia, could see it. No one knew that he, too, had always loved Emilia, deeply...

It's supposed to be a punishment, but it ends with me freezing to death in the freezer. My fiance, Carlo Vesta, also known as the heir of the Vesta family, only remembers that I exist three days later. Now, I'm just floating around while watching him hug my frozen corpse, his body trembling violently. I notice how broken his expression is, and soon, I witness him piecing together the truth that I've brought into my grave with me. It's too late, Carlo. But it's fine. I'm right here, watching you. I want to see how you're going to face the truth of you personally locking up the woman you love in her own grave.

I married my Don husband, Ethan Solas, because of a family arrangement. What he didn’t know was that I’d harbored a long crush on him. He, on the other hand, had never sparked any interest in me. Today marked our third anniversary. After our usual, mechanical lovemaking, Ethan rolled onto his back, leaving me staring at the ceiling. He always treated it like a duty, nothing more. Then a sudden, intrusive voice pierced my mind: “Did Vivian reach her climax? Did I do well? Is it too soon for a second round? Am I desperate? She smells so good…I just want to devour her.” I froze, eyes turned and locked on Ethan’s bare back. Had I imagined it? Or had my icy, distant husband just confessed his wild, obsessive desire for me?

“I’ll let my servants watch as I fuck your cunt right here. And when I’m done… I’ll wipe your blood with this tissue and send it as a present to your father,” Stefano sneered as he pushed me to the bed, his eyes dark in excitement. Gianna Bellini was born a mafia princess. She was spoiled… heavily protected and untouchable. She was supposed to marry her childhood love and unite two powerful families. Instead, war broke out. To stop bloodshed and to save her father from reliving the nightmare that once killed her mother, Gianna agrees to be traded to the most powerful Don in the city. But she is taken before the deal is complete. By Stefano De Caruso. The Don’s son. The man secretly at war with his own father. The only man dangerous enough to dismantle empires. Stefano didn’t want peace. He wanted leverage. And Gianna is his favorite weapon. Now trapped between rival families, father and son, loyalty and desire, Gianna must survive a game where love is weakness, trust is fatal, and possession is mistaken for protection. Because in this war… She isn’t the prize. She’s the battlefield.

Everyone knew I’d do anything for Lucius Falcone. I was his shadow, his most devoted follower… or, to be blunt, his lapdog. For three years, I trailed after him, indulging his every mafia-heir whim. When he went street racing at midnight, I was in the passenger seat, even when I was burning up with a 104-degree fever. When he was screwing some other woman, he’d call me to bring toys, and I’d show up, no questions asked. Finally, Lucius started to soften. Just when everyone thought I was about to finally get what I’d been working for… At the party celebrating his taking over as Don of the Falcone family, he showed up with some bombshell on his arm. He gave me a bored look and said, "You're dull in bed. Tina, on the other hand, knows how to get me off." The whole room was waiting for me to break down. Instead, I just gave a small smile. "Then congratulations to you both." Then I turned, walked out, and got on a plane to Paris. Lucius was already making bets that I’d come crawling back within three days. What he didn't know was that his mother had paid me five million dollars to do it all. The contract was up. The money was in my account. I was finally free to leave him and to finally chase my own dream in Paris.

　　Three years ago, at the very wedding I had meticulously prepared, my fiancé, Vito Rossi, turned the ceremony into a stage to propose to his childhood sweetheart, Isabella. 　　When I dared to confront him, he didn't offer an apology. Instead, he threw me into a subterranean dungeon. Whippings, starvation, and systematic humiliation—I nearly drew my last breath in that living hell. 　　Eventually, I chose to let them go. I walked away and married the man who sits at the absolute peak of the underworld—Lorenzo De Santis, the Godfather of the De Santis family. 　　Three years later, at the San Antonio Docks. 　　I accompanied Lorenzo for a business negotiation, but a sudden matter forced him to step away, leaving his men to receive me. I never expected to run into Vito after three years of silence. 　　Vito and his now-fiancée humiliated me in front of the crowd, even accusing me of being a spy and threatening to arrest me. 　　I turned my gaze toward my husband, who had just arrived—the man who rules the entire Mafia world. I lifted my chin and looked at him. 　　"Lorenzo," I said, my voice steady and clear. "This maniac wants to throw your wife into a dungeon again. How do you intend to handle this?"

So it appeared that she was to start paying her way on her back with this absolutely massive, broad-shouldered, tattooed, aptly-named wild warrior. Gideon was a large man, but this modern viking put him to serious physical shame; if Gideon’s dick had split her in half in agony, Iris could only imagine what this monster’s cock would do to her. She just hoped that he left her able to walk… and able to fuck the rest of the boys downstairs, because of course they’d be close behind. She knew there would be blood soaking and staining her thighs before things were done, long before they decided that they’d used her up. Stopping her jumbled thoughts, Iris slowly lowered herself to her knees. **** Liam “Viking” Callahan thought the job was done. Evidence buried. Debt paid to The Road Devils MC. Then he drives out of the Utah mountains with a secret in the back of his van: a terrified woman running for her life. Iris has spent six months planning her escape from Gideon and the Garden of Divine Light. She’s barefoot, freezing, and desperate enough to gamble on a stranger who looks dangerous... but still safer than the hell she left behind. So she hides. And prays. When the Road Devils discover Iris, the truth unravels: a cult, a tyrant, and a woman who fled into a winter night wearing nothing but a nightgown and borrowed boots. She’s broken, but not defeated. Iris wants her life back... her body, her choices, her fearlessness. The only man she feels safe with is the towering, gentle Viking. As trust turns into desire, neither of them sees the danger closing in. Gideon wants his “property” returned... and he won’t stop until he gets it.