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Chained in the Don's Repentance Novel Cover

Chained in the Don's Repentance

When Rosie falls overboard at a yacht party, a furious Porter blames Alessia for the tragedy. Determined to make her pay, the ruthless billionaire chains Alessia in his manor's underground wine cellar, flooding it with icy lake water. He ignores her desperate pleas, locking her away to repent for her supposed jealousy. But when he finally opens the iron door a week later, he is met with a gruesome horror: Alessia's lifeless, ruined body has already been devoured by the dark.
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Chapter 1

One careless moment was all it took. At a yacht party, Rosie, the woman Porter loved, had an "accident" and fell overboard.

He flew into a rage and locked me in the manor's underground wine cellar.

"Alessia, you'll suffer twice the terror Rosie did!"

Survival instinct took over, and I struggled desperately.

I slammed my body against the iron door again and again, begging for his mercy.

But Porter chained me up and ordered his men to flood it with icy lake water.

"A jealous bitch like you only learns through pain."

"Stay in there and repent for your jealousy."

He locked the cellar's heavy iron door himself, forbidding anyone from coming near.

I gasped for air in the bone-chilling water, screaming for help until my voice was raw.

But the rising filth completely swallowed me.

I struggled until my strength gave out.

A week later, he magnanimously decided to end my punishment.

What he didn't know was that my body was already unrecognizable, bloated from the water and devoured by rats.

————————

1

"Where's Alessia? Why hasn't she come to see me since she got out?"

"Isn't she the master of playing the victim for sympathy? Why no begging this time? Has she finally learned her lesson?"

Porter's subordinate turned pale, choosing his words carefully.

"Don... Miss Alessia... she... I don't think she ever came out."

A flicker of unease crossed Porter's dark eyes, but it vanished in an instant, replaced by cold indifference.

"Alessia's a stubborn one, isn't she? Then let her stew in there a little longer!"

His subordinate hesitated, desperate to say more.

"But, sir, there's been no sound from the cellar for days, and a foul smell is coming from it. Shouldn't you... go and see?"

Porter waved his hand dismissively.

"What's there to panic about? Alessia is just pulling another one of her stunts, trying to make me feel sorry for her."

"Don't worry—she was trained since childhood. She's tougher than any of my soldiers. A little punishment like this is nothing to her. Besides, after being locked up for so long, it's normal for the putrid water to stink."

His subordinate tried to speak again, but Porter cut him off with an impatient wave.

"Enough. Take the 'Heart of Valachi' to Rosie—consider it my apology on Alessia's behalf."

"Forget about Alessia. I'll let her out today. As long as she’s willing to swallow her pride, admit her mistake, and genuinely beg for Rosie's forgiveness, I'll spare her."

A soft knock sounded at the door.

Without waiting for Porter's permission, Rosie pushed the door open and walked straight in.

Porter's irritation vanished instantly. His gaze softened into something tender, almost liquid.

"Rosie, the doctor said you still need to rest. What are you doing up?"

Rosie drifted toward him and nestled into his arms, a fragile smile gracing her pale, delicate features.

"Porter, I'm much better now. Alessia has been punished long enough—I'm sure she's learned her lesson. Let's give her another chance."

"If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive myself."

As she spoke, a single, glistening tear rolled down her cheek.

Porter immediately wiped it away, his voice carrying the unquestionable authority of the Don.

"Rosie, Alessia almost killed you, and you're still pleading for her. If only that jealous woman were half as kind as you."

"Don't worry. When she comes out, I'll make her kneel before you and apologize."

Watching their cloying performance, I let out a soft laugh from behind them—but of course, no one noticed.

After all, I was already dead. How could I possibly kneel before Rosie and apologize?

In the final moments before I died from infection and blood loss, my consciousness had drifted free of the filth-choked cellar.

The heavy chains had rubbed my wrists raw from my struggles, my blood staining the murky water around me.

Starving rats had swarmed my body, feasting on it with abandon.

The entire cellar had become a putrid hell—a gruesome, sickening sight.

I floated in the air, unable to bear another glance at my own corpse, chained and rotting, devoured in the filth.

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