All Chapters of The Don's Forbidden Muse: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

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

I step out of the washroom, a bathrobe securely wrapped around my body. As expected, he’s waiting for me, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes fixed on me like he’s been standing there for a while. This feels like a repeat of the other night, except this time, I’m so done with him.“I don’t want to fight,” he says, his voice calm but firm.“Neither do I,” I reply, walking past him. I knew he would be waiting for me after my shower to talk, but honestly, I’m too pissed to entertain him.There’s tension in the air, but I try to focus on the immediate problem: my clothes. I glance at the pants and top I wore last night, crumpled in the corner, and sigh. Am I really about to put that on again? Before I can decide, he interrupts.“There are clothes in the closet,” he says, nodding toward the adjoining room.I pause, confused. “Clothes? In the closet?” I didn&

AlessandroMy heart races as I stare at the screenshot I took. I lean back in my chair, gripping the edges of the desk as if anchoring myself to reality. The video wasn’t clear—too much movement, too many shadows—but something about her. The voice. That look. I can’t shake the feeling.It can’t be.But if it is…When I knew her she used to go by a different name, it wasn't Emilia.I rub a hand down my face, trying to steady my breathing. I don’t care if I’m right or wrong, but if I am, then Renée’s life might be in danger, and I would die before letting anything happen to her.There’s only one person who can confirm this suspicion, but I hate the idea of going to her. Maria. She is the last person I want to talk to right now, not after the fight we had earlier when I came back.But I don’t have a choice.I push out my chair, the screeching sound echoing i

The car is silent except for my pounding heart, Marco’s labored breathing, and the soft clicking sound of Emilia tapping her nails on the gun pointed at me. Her other gun rests lazily on Marco, a silent threat that keeps me gripping the steering wheel tighter than I should. My hands are trembling and slick with sweat and blood from when I tried to stop Marco’s bleeding. The whole car reeks of iron—a nauseating smell—but I’m too focused on the gun pointed at me and Marco’s worsening condition to care.“Where are we going?” I ask. Emilia only shrugs and waves for me to keep my eyes on the road. I blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay so I can see where I’m heading.“Where are my father and Raul?” My voice cracks despite my best effort to sound calm. I don’t know what she’s done to them. I should’ve been more suspicious when I returned and couldn’t find my father, or when Ra

“Hey! Hey! Let us out of here, you sons of bitches!” Mateo’s scream tears through the heavy silence in the room. He thrashes against the ropes binding him to the chair, his voice hoarse as he shouts.“Let us out of here! Do you hear me? You bastards! You’re going to pay for letting Marco die. I swear to God!” he screams again, his voice bouncing off the walls, but no one comes. The night is quiet except for the sounds of the crickets and my sobbing. I turn to look at my father and brother, and they have that same sad look on their faces.Mateo keeps screaming in rage at no one, yet still, no one seems to hear his cries.I remain seated on the floor, my hands still stained with the now-dried blood that belonged to Marco. Tears stream down my face, and my whole body shakes. He was alive not long ago. But now he is gone. He’s really gone. My chest feels tight, and I can barely breathe. If only Emilia had let me help him&hel