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Seventy Three
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2025-02-15 20:00:00I feel anxious.
I don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way because part of me is happy that I’m going back home. I’ll get to see my friends again after so many months of being away, and I’ll finally just be at home. But at the same time, I’m not sure if I even like the idea of going back. Partly because I feel like Alessandro and I still have unresolved issues. It doesn’t matter that we’ve talked and I said I’d be back—I just feel like if I leave, there’s a chance I may never return. After everything that happened last night and the weird tension that followed, I just need to put some space between us. I have to—for my sanity. For the sake of my heart. And then, there’s the part of me that’s scared of going back to face the reality that it’ll just be Dad and me. Mom won’t be there anymore. I’ve spent almost my entire life with her in it, and it’s going to be hard.
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The Don's Forbidden Muse Seventy Four
I have never been arrested in my life, and all my life I have tried to live a good life and stay on the right side of the law so that a situation like this never happens. This is one of the scariest situations I have ever been in, and worse still, I don’t understand what we could have done to deserve this.My hands are trembling, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop them. They are sweaty, and the cuffs are digging into my wrists as I’m led through the cold, sterile hallway of the station. The air smells like bleach and something metallic, and the fluorescent light above hums in a way that grates on my nerves. I keep my head down, my heart racing so fast it feels like it’s trying to escape my chest. The last time I was at this station was to see Dell; I never thought the next time I’d be here, it would be in handcuffs.My dad was taken into another room as soon as we got here. They didn’t even let us talk. The last thing I saw w
Last Updated : 2025-02-15The Don's Forbidden Muse Seventy Five
I stare at the phone for a moment, unable to move or even breathe. It’s burnt, probably from the fire Alessandro and his men set at the warehouse where Morales died, but it’s unmistakably the same phone. I don’t know what to make of it.How did they find it?Didn’t Alessandro get rid of it?Do they know something?Do they know Morales is missing—or dead, perhaps?Who am I kidding? They have his phone. They definitely know he’s missing.But Dell told me he handled it. He said he managed to steer their suspicions elsewhere, that he made them believe Morales left town for an assignment.Did he lie to me?No, he wouldn’t. Dell and I have had our differences, but he wouldn’t do something that would jeopardize both of us. If I go down for Morales’s death, it won’t be long before he goes down too.“I can tell from your silence that you know whose phone this is,” Agent Carter says. “And you might be considering our deal.”I look up at him, trying to maintain a poker face, but I don’t know how
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I can clearly tell from the look in Maria’s eyes when she saw Michael working with the FBI that it triggered something in her—fear, perhaps? Yes, she was shocked, but in a way that made it clear she was scared of what it meant. And if I’m being honest, so am I.Michael folds his arms, not taking his eyes off Maria, a smug and self-satisfied look on his face.“She can’t be released,” he says, his tone cold and final. My heart is still pounding. For a moment, I thought I might get out of here, but now I’m not so sure. “Renée was arrested on legitimate charges,” he adds.Maria raises a brow, her voice razor-sharp. I’m surprised at how quickly she regains her composure after looking so shaken moments ago. “What charges?” she asks.Michael shrugs. “Falsifying flight documents. As her lawyer, I thought you would already know that,” he says simply, as though it’s a s
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I can’t explain why, but my heart warms when I see him.He’s standing by the car, his broad shoulders and confident stance unmistakable. He looks effortlessly good in black jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket. Maria strides toward him, her heels clicking sharply against the pavement.“What the hell are you doing here?” she demands, but Alessandro doesn’t even glance her way.His eyes find mine, and in a few swift strides, he’s standing in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern.Before I can answer, he catches me off guard by pulling me into his arms. I hesitate for a moment before wrapping my arms around him.For an instant, everything else disappears. It’s just us—the warmth of his embrace, the strength of his arms around me. It feels like home, like safety. I close my eyes and sink into the feeling. He’s warm, and he smells incredible. Honest
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When I step out of the shower a moment later, my phone is buzzing nonstop. It’s Bella.Shoot. I was supposed to call her and update her on everything—the arrest, us not leaving the country as planned—but I’ve been so caught up in everything that it completely slipped my mind.I tie a bathrobe around me and pick up the call.“Hey, girl. I’m so sorry. I was supposed to call you,” I quickly say before she can get a word in.“It’s okay. Are you okay?” she asks, and I nod, even though she can’t see me.“Yes, I am.”“Dell told me about the arrest. He was the one who called Alessandro and had Maria come to the station. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” she says with concern, and my heart warms at how much they care for me. Even though Dell and I may have had a fallout, he still made sure I got the help I needed.“I am. Thank you for c
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“Do you want to come meet him?” I ask Emilia, but she quickly shakes her head.“Oh, no. You should go,” she says, and I nervously clear my throat, nodding.Alessandro said he needed a perfect runway to land the jet, so he asked Mateo to drive me there. I can’t quite explain how I’m feeling right now. It’s a mix of excitement and nervousness. What is this about? Of course, a ride on a private jet is like every girl’s dream, and part of me is excited. The other part of me doesn’t know how to feel about it. I didn’t even know he owned one. Or maybe he hired it?I’m dressed in black leather pants and a matching jacket. It’s late at night, and I don’t know where we’re going, so I figured dressing warm was a safe bet.A private jet ride—at night. Who does that? And why does it feel like I’m on the verge of something magical?“Are you ready?” Mateo
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I stare out the window, my eyes focused on the clouds, but I can feel his gaze on me. I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off me for a single moment. When I turn to look at him, his lips curl into a smile. I have to admit, seeing this softer side of him is beautiful. I wish I could see it more often.“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, and I find myself blushing again.“Yes, yes, you have, but you can say it again,” I reply, and he chuckles.“You are,” he says once more. I reach out my hand for him to hold. He squeezes it gently, and my heart does its usual jump. I don’t think my heart will ever stop jumping every time we touch. Even the faintest of touches feels electric, making me feel everything all over again.“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice low and velvety, blending perfectly with the soothing instrumental music playing softly in the background.I nod, running my f
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The jet’s engines hum softly as we land smoothly on the private runway. My body still feels like it’s floating from the ride, the sheer luxury of the experience leaving me a little giddy. This is the most beautiful surprise—exactly what I needed today. I never thought a jet ride could feel this magical, but it does. Alessandro has been quiet during the descent, but his hand never left mine. As he helps me down the stairs, his touch firm and protective, I feel completely fulfilled.I’m expecting a car to be waiting for us, maybe another sleek black vehicle like the ones he always seems to have on hand. Instead, my jaw practically unhinges when I spot a helicopter—a sleek, black beauty with blades shimmering under the faint glow of the runway lights. Its propellers are spinning slowly, as if it’s waiting just for us.“No fucking way,” I say, blinking repeatedly just to convince myself this is real. “Are you serious?&r
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The Don's Forbidden Muse Three
I just stare at her as she walks toward me, too frozen to move even if I wanted to. Motherhood has done Maria good, no doubt. It’s a thought I can’t shake as she gets closer. She’s radiant, more stunning than I remember. Time has softened her, and, contrary to what anyone would expect, motherhood has only made her more beautiful. Her features are sharper but still delicate. Her skin glows, her hair falls in soft waves around her face, and even her casual outfit—a simple blouse and jeans—looks like it was made for her. I hate that I can notice even the tiniest details that make her this beautiful. How much more beauty can one person have?“Renée?” she says again, her brows furrowed in surprise, her lips curving into a half-smile. “I thought I saw someone who looked like you. What are you doing here?”I clear my throat, shrugging. “Nothing,” I reply, my voice clipped.She tilts her head, studying me. “Are you in therapy too?”I remain silent. It’s obvious. This building kind of hosts th
The Don's Forbidden Muse Two
I’m seated in an armchair across from Dr. Hensley; her office is as familiar to me as the scent of lavender she always diffuses. I’ve never been much of a fan of coming here, but when you go through a traumatizing and life-altering event like the one I did, you don’t get much of a choice. It’s been years since I last saw her, but she hasn’t changed much. Her warm smile and attentive eyes make me feel like I’ve stepped back in time.“It’s good to see you again, Renée,” she says in a calm, steady voice, just as I remember. “It’s been what, two years, two and a half years?”I nod, my hands twisting together in my lap. “Something like that.”“And what brings you back to me after all this time?”I shrug. “You’re the only therapist I have in the country,” I joke, and she smiles, nodding.“That’s good to hear. Have you been doing more sessions back at home?”I look away when she asks that. I haven’t been as committed as I was supposed to be. When the nightmares stopped, so did the sessions.
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Two Years Later“Roses?” Luca asks in a soft, curious voice.I nod. “Yes,” I say, smiling up at him. “But not just any roses. Red roses.”He chuckles, his arm brushing mine as we walk side by side. “Red roses, huh? Not white, not pink?”I nod again. “I love roses.”“You know, I never thought you’d be a rose-loving kind of girl. Roses seem… too ordinary,” he says, and I shrug.“I’m just an ordinary girl, Luca.”He shakes his head. “Not even in the slightest,” he says. “So, red roses it is.”I laugh. “If I were ever to get married, it would have to be red roses. They’re passionate, bold… beautiful.”“Point taken.” He gives a playful, mock-serious nod, and I nudge him with my elbow.“It’s just a joke,” I tease, grinning. “The marriage part. You don’t have to take notes. I mean, marriage? Who does that anymore?”He stops, turning to face me, his expression suddenly solemn. “I do. With you.”My smile fades, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. “Luca…”“I’m serious,” he says, tak
The Don's Forbidden Muse Chasing After Her Ghost
PrologueTwo Years AgoMy phone is pressed to my ear, my hand shaking slightly as I pace around the room. My wedding dress brushes softly against the floor with every step I take, the delicate lace catching the light streaming through the tall windows.Saying I am nervous would be the understatement of the year.“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I say in a shaky voice."Renée.” His voice is calm and warm, steadying me even through the phone. “Breathe, amore. Everything is going to be perfect,” he says, and I sigh, smiling.I stop and stare at my reflection in the floor-length mirror, taking in the nervous girl staring back at me. She is beautiful. I am beautiful. This dress is perfection, and it makes me feel beautiful, so I hate that I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach. “What if something goes wrong?” I whisper, voicing the fear that’s been eating me up all morning.It’s not like many people liked the idea of us getting married. Even getting here, we had to fight for it.
The Don's Forbidden Muse Epilogue
One year laterThe soft click of the camera is the only sound in the room as I lean in closer, adjusting the angle to capture the perfect shot. My client is seated on the velvet chaise, draped in delicate lace. Her confidence radiates through the lens, and she is beautiful. The natural light streaming through the tall windows bathes her in a warm glow, highlighting every curve and detail.“Beautiful,” I murmur in a steady voice as I guide her. “Tilt your chin slightly… yes, just like that. Perfect.”This is my world now. My studio, my work, my passion. It’s been over a year and a half since I found my footing in this country, and my boudoir photography has taken off in ways I never imagined. Had someone told me I would stay here and make it my home after all the tragedies that happened, I would have laughed in their face. But here I am. High-end clients, features in glossy magazines—it’s everything I dreamed of an
The Don's Forbidden Muse Ninety Five
I open my eyes, and the splitting headache is a clear reminder of the hangover from last night. I think I might have had a little too much to drink. My body is tangled in soft linen sheets that aren’t mine. I quickly sit up, blinking against the brightness streaming through the curtains. For a moment, everything is hazy—the room, the night, and the nagging sense of regret clawing at the edges of my mind.I push myself up slowly, the cozy carpet beneath my feet unfamiliar. Panic starts to creep in as I take in the space. A strange home. My mind is slowly piecing everything together, and then it hits me—Luca. The bar. The bathroom. His bed.“Oh my god,” I whisper, my hands flying to my face.What the hell have I done?The events of last night quickly come crashing in. What we did didn’t just stop in that bar bathroom. Somehow, we ended up here, and we didn’t stop until... I shake my head, trying to will the memories
The Don's Forbidden Muse Ninety Four
The restaurant is quiet. Too quiet. I’m seated at the center of it, watching the soft shadows cast across the empty tables around me by the flickering candlelight. The dress delivered earlier fits like a glove, hugging my curves and making me feel beautiful, but I’m slowly starting to feel less and less beautiful as time keeps passing by. Sitting here alone in this massive restaurant feels uncomfortable.I swirl the wine in my glass, the rich red liquid catching the light. I sigh and take a sip. It’s my third—or is it my fourth? I’ve lost count. I don’t normally get drunk on wine, but if I keep taking one glass after another, I’ll be tipsy by the time this date even starts. I glance at my phone for the umpteenth time, the screen lighting up with the same message he sent over forty-five minutes ago:I’ll be late, but I’m on my way. Order something, love.That word love feels hollow now. I check the time again,
The Don's Forbidden Muse Ninety Three
Several months laterThis always feels like the first time. I’m straddling Alessandro in the warm, scented water of our bathtub, riding out the pleasure as water laps against my skin. His hands grip my waist tightly, and his head tips back as he groans my name. It’s moments like this when I forget the chaos around us. Here, it’s just him and me—no one else.I let out a soft moan as I finish, my body trembling as I collapse against him. He catches me, cradling me like I’m the most precious thing in the world, before pressing a kiss to my forehead, then to my lips, his breath warm and tender.“I love you,” he whispers softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.Those three words hit me like a wave every time he says them. I smile, kissing him back gently before leaning against his chest, slowly listening to the rhythm of our breathing. His hand brushes through my hair, untangling it with care.“What are you
The Don's Forbidden Muse Ninety Two
I am shaking as I stare at the pool of blood on the floor next to my father’s leg, which keeps growing larger with every passing second. His face is pale, and he is starting to get weaker. I’m trying to hold back my tears, wishing I could help him, but I can’t move. My body feels like it’s chained to this seat, my fists trembling in place on my lap.“Okay, I’ll ask again,” Emilia’s sharp voice cuts through the air, making my heart race even faster. “Who do you have resentment for in this room, Principessa?” she asks in a mocking voice.My throat is dry, my voice barely above a whisper as I stammer. “Maria.”I hear Maria scoff at the other end of the room. “Bitch,” she mutters under her breath, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.I swallow hard, trying not to look in her direction. Emilia leans forward, clearly intrigued. “Oh, now this is getting interest
