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The Don’s Favorite Lover Vanished Novel Cover

The Don’s Favorite Lover Vanished

For ten years, Chicago’s top art forger and intel specialist built Don Vincenzo Russo’s empire from the shadows. She believed their intimate bond meant a future together, but Vincenzo chooses a strategic alliance with Russian princess Katerina Petrov instead. Betrayed and left for dead, she contacts her father in Italy and erases her existence. As she vanishes, the powerful Don realizes his mistake, spiraling into madness while hunting for the woman he discarded.
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Chapter 7

Chicago’s Holy Name Cathedral had never looked so grand.

Every crime boss in the city was there. The air was thick with expensive perfume and gunpowder.

I stood alone in the shadows.

Katerina walked toward me in a priceless Vera Wang gown, a diamond tiara sparkling in her hair. A fairytale princess.

She stopped in front of me. Her eyes fell to my chest.

I was wearing a black diamond phoenix necklace.

The first piece I ever designed, for my eighteenth birthday. I’d given it to Vincenzo.

A few days ago, he had Marco “return” it to me.

“That poor little bird,” Katerina’s voice was sickly sweet, dripping with venom. “So lonely now that its owner has thrown it away. Tell me, Chiara, does it hurt? Knowing you were so easy to replace.”

Before I could answer, Vincenzo’s voice came from behind us.

“Darling, what are you talking about with my soldier?”

He came over, his arm sliding possessively around Katerina’s waist.

He didn’t even look at me. Like I was part of the furniture.

“Nothing,” Katerina pouted. “I just thought Miss Chiara looked lonely over here by herself.”

“A soldier stays in her post,” Vincenzo said, his tone freezing. “Chiara. Hold your position.”

I raised my champagne glass to them, a perfect smile fixed on my face. “Yes, Boss.”

The orchestra began a waltz.

Vincenzo led Katerina to the center of the floor.

They were the perfect couple, bathed in the admiration of the crowd.

Suddenly, all the lights went out.

The cathedral fell silent for a heartbeat, then the roar of automatic weapons tore it apart.

Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Screams. Breaking glass. The crash of overturned tables.

“Get down!”

“It’s a hit! The Torrinos!”

I instinctively drew the Glock from my thigh holster and took cover behind a stone pillar.

In the dark, muzzle flashes were like shooting stars of death.

“Katerina!” Vincenzo’s voice was raw with a panic I’d never heard before. “Katerina, where are you?!”

More gunfire.

Windows shattered as hitters poured in from every side.

I saw a small, black object arc through the darkness, whistling as it flew toward the center of the dance floor.

A grenade.

In that life-or-death moment, I saw them. Vincenzo and Katerina.

Huddled on the other side of the dance floor.

Because of where I’d moved, I was near him, too.

The three of us formed a deadly triangle.

The grenade landed right in the middle of us.

Time stopped.

Vincenzo saw the grenade. His eyes shot to a terrified Katerina. Then they shot to me.

He had one second.

He made his choice.

He didn’t hesitate. He threw himself at Katerina, covering her body with his, shielding her head.

As he lunged for her, his foot pushed off the marble floor. Right next to me. He used my position as leverage. One final push to propel himself toward her, and away from me.

BOOM!

The blast wave threw me against the stone pillar.

I heard my ribs crack. Warm blood coughed from my lips.

Shattered stone and glass rained down. My dress was torn, the blue silk stained red.

The chain on my phoenix necklace snapped. The pendant skittered away into a pool of my blood.

Through my blurring vision, I saw Vincenzo climb from the rubble, Katerina held safely in his arms.

His tuxedo was shredded, but he only had eyes for her.

“Return fire! Kill every last one of these motherfuckers!” he roared.

Then he picked her up and ran for the side door, for the safest way out.

The gunshots continued.

I lay in a pool of my own blood, listening to my breathing grow shallow.

He never looked back. Not even a glance to see if his most loyal soldier, the woman who’d bled for him for a decade, was dead or alive.

He had made his choice. He chose his queen. And he sacrificed his weapon.

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