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CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON. Novel Cover

CLAIMED BY THE DEVIL DON.

Isabella Romano is the neglected princess of her family, casted away unknowingly by her father, she has lived with her mother all her life, seeking some fatherly love but she learnt to stop caring. Now after a reckless night she finds herself tangled in the sheets of a man she was told to always hate. Vladimir Volkov. A man far more scary that what she has been told, he is not just the boogeyman he is the one you send to kill the boogeyman. Imagine her shock when she finds out she hasn't just gotten the attention of The Russian Don but is also carrying his child Follow the hate to love relationship of isabella and Vladimir and watch how they navigate their life in his dark world that he dragged her to, making her and his unborn child a target to the new arising enemy that aims to destroy both the Italians and the Russians.
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Chapter 4

I don't know what Vladimir expects from me, all this is still foreign to me and him coming here and demanding for answers on something that i just found out about is foolish and to top it up him being a mob boss is not what i expected, i'm fucked i can already imagine how bad all this will go.

I sigh and shake my head in a mix of feelings, and not sure how I should react right now.

 "What do you want?" I look back up at him.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, why are you here? Usually, men like you agree or disagree with paying for a child, yes? Or tell me to get an abortion, it's up to you." I roll my eyes.

"One, roll pretty little eyes at me, very disrespectful. I do not like it when people are disrespectful.

Two, I am here because I plan to be in both your and your baby's lives." He said all of this with the same stone facial expression, it wasn't in a heartless way, but more of a blank look.

His eyes narrowed at me as I raised an eyebrow at him, "Who says I want you in my life? You can be part of baby life, but what makes you think I want you in mine?"

"You may not agree right now, but you are mine, Lyubov. Like it or not, you are mine," he declares.

Something about that sentence got me wet and horny, hearing him be all possessive and demanding, but that was the toxic person in me; she was rising, and I needed her to go back down.

Scoffing, I turned on my heel and walked back to my room, deliberately ignoring him. A soft thud

of footsteps behind me confirmed he was following. I try showing that I didn't give a fuck about

him right now, even though I secretly wanted him to fuck me right here and then. But I need to not think with my head because this person here, the father of my child, is a threat to my family, and it will be a bigger problem if he finds out who my father is.

Looking at my food, I dropped it carelessly after Vladimir's unwanted visit, and I picked it up. If I need strength to get the fuck out of this situation, then I need to eat.

"Why are you still here?" I ask to take a bite of my salad.

"I will be staying here for the time being. Start packing your belongings tomorrow. You come home with me next week." I glanced at him, then deliberately averted my gaze back to the TVs.

"Tomorrow I have work, meaning I'm doing shit you are telling me. I also have a business trip to prepare myself for with my boss, and I will be damned if you think I'm some puppy you can just tell what you want and it does it, the fuck not!" Audacity must be cheap these days, I would like to know where he purchases his, because what the actual hell!

Vladimir watched her defiance with an unreadable expression. His silence was more unsettling than any shout could have been. He walked over to the TV, and with a swift, almost casual movement, he unplugged it. The screen went black, plunging the room into a stark quiet.

"You will not go to work tomorrow," Vladimir stated, his voice low but resonant. "Your business trip has been canceled. Your only business now is with me and our child. You will pack your belongings, and you will come home with me next week. This is not a request, Lyubov. It is a

declaration. You understand?"

He stepped closer, his imposing presence filling the space between them. "I am not asking for your permission. I am informing you of what will happen. You carry my child. You are now under my protection, whether you believe you need it or not. And my protection comes with certain...

expectations. Disobeying me will have consequences you do not wish to face, for yourself or for those you care about."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "As for where I purchase my 'audacity,' it comes from a place where consequences are fast and absolute. You may think you are free to make your own choices, but that illusion ends now. You and the baby are in a dangerous position. The world I

live in is not for the faint of heart, and now, you are part of it. Your safety and the safety of our child depend on your cooperation."

He continued, his gaze unwavering. "I will be staying here until we return to Russia. Consider it a necessary measure to make sure you understand and you comply. I have business to attend to tomorrow, but I will return. You will be ready to begin packing."

With that, he turned and walked towards the door. The quiet click of the lock as he opened it seemed to echo in the room. He paused in the doorway, his silhouette framed against the hallway light. "I expect you to be ready. Do not test my patience."

He left, and the sound of the door closing behind him was a final, heavy punctuation mark. The sudden silence in the apartment was deafening, amplified by the black screen of the unplugged television. My salad sat forgotten, a single bite still on the fork. I stared at the empty doorway,

the weight of his words pressing down on me. A mob boss. My baby's father was a mob boss.

 And he was demanding that I uproot my entire life to go to Russia with him.

Tears pricked at her eyes, hot and insistent. I fought them, trying to swallow the sudden lump in my throat. This couldn't be happening. My life, my carefully constructed independence, was

crumbling around me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push back the fear, the anger, the overwhelming sense of being trapped. I couldn't cry. I wouldn't. I had to be strong.

Just as I was battling the rising tide of emotion, the front door burst open. Caroline rushed in, her face pale, her eyes wide with alarm. "Oh my God! What's wrong? I just saw a really scary man leaving our Apartment! Are you okay? What happened?"

The dam broke. The carefully contained tears spilled over, tracing hot paths down her cheeks. I choked back a sob, unable to form words, and collapsed onto the couch, the full force of the terror and despair finally overwhelming me.

The world spun around as a wave of nausea hit. I scrambled to my feet, hand clapped over my mouth, and bolted for the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I was violently ill, the retching mingling with the ragged sobs that tore from my throat.

Caroline was right behind her, a steady hand immediately gathering my hair away from her face. She rubbed soothing circles on my back, murmuring comforting words until the dry heaves subsided and only the shaky tremors remained.

When I finally pushed myself back, wiping my mouth with a tissue Caroline handed me, Caroline looked at her with a mix of concern and bewilderment. "Isa, what the hell is going on? You're never like this. You're always the strong one. What is it?"

My voice was a raw whisper. "I'm... I'm pregnant, Caro."

Caroline froze. Her usually animated face went blank, her eyes wide and unseeing for several long seconds. The silence in the small bathroom was heavy, broken only by my shaky breaths.

"Caro? Please, say something," I pleaded, my voice cracking.

Caroline blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it. "I'm just... shocked. That's all. Shocked." She paused, then her eyes sharpened. "Wait. Do you remember that family I told you my family hates? The ones I got pregnant for the head of the family."

"You got pregnant for the head of that family?!" Caroline exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief.

"Isa, this is... this is a lot to digest. I need a drink."

Caroline walked briskly to the kitchen, her movements a little stiff with shock, and Isabella followed her, tears welling up again. As Caroline reached for a bottle, I started to cry properly, big, silent tears rolling down my face. Caroline turned, her expression softening, and pulled me into a tight embrace.

"He was the man you saw leaving," I mumbled into Caroline's shoulder. "He wants me to move to Russia, so that my life and our baby's life are in danger the longer we are away from him and his safety. There's nothing I can do."

Caroline held her for a moment longer, then pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. Her gaze was firm, a spark of her usual fire returning. "Wipe your fucking eyes, Isabella! My Isabella is not some crybaby. And that man... seriously, how did you fall for a face like that? He looks like he could strangle everyone in a five-mile radius!" Caroline tried, awkwardly, to lighten the mood.

A watery laugh escaped my lips, a small, fragile sound.

"Listen," Caroline continued, her voice now serious. "If what he told you is true, if he is who you say he is, then you go along with him for now. But first, you tell him exactly who you are. Let him know your true identity. See if he still cares about you and the baby then. And for God's sake, give him hell for being such a pushy man!"

I smiled, a genuine, albeit faint, smile. She hugged Caroline tightly. "Thank you, Caro."

Caroline hugged her back, then pulled away, a playful smirk on her face. "And by the way, with all this drama... was the sex that good, jeez? Why didn't you guys use protection? Not that I'm blaming you, but seriously!" A crazy laughter bubbled out from me, I love this girl, who always knows how to lighten my mood

I pulled her in for a hug, soaking in the warmth from her. I wonder how tomorrow with Vladimir will go.

.

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