
The Don's Forbidden Obsession
She was never said no... And if she were, she simply refused to hear it.
Bianca is everything they expect her to be-beautiful, soft-spoken, and wrapped in a veil of innocence. A grieving girl of nineteen, sent to live under the protection of La Famiglia after tragedy steals her world away.
But innocence can be deceiving.
Behind her sweet smiles lies a girl who has never been denied. A girl who knows exactly how to get what she wants... and isn't afraid to take it.
In a house ruled by power, loyalty, and danger, Bianca sets her sights on the one man she should never want.
The mafia don.
Her guardian.
The man sworn to protect her-yet determined to resist her.
He gives her everything... except himself.
And that's the one thing she refuses to let go.
Because Bianca doesn't lose.
She doesn't wait.
And she certainly doesn't take no for an answer.
So what happens when innocence turns into obsession...
and desire becomes a dangerous game neither of them can control?
In a world where rules are everything-
She's about to break them all.
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Chapter 6
Bianca
By the time six pm rolls around, I'm in my room composing some music for an orchestra night, my talk with Jacob still fresh in my mind.
I needed to tone it down.
And according to Jacob, I was far too overdramatic to know how to do that.
But I was going to prove him wrong.
"Miss Bianca?" Comes a voice from my open bedroom door.
"Bianca." I correct, turning towards Divya, one of the house maids who stands at my door. "Just call me Bianca."
She nods, and I watch the tension pour off of her as her posture relaxes. "Dinner's ready."
Divya was relatively young, about my age. Which was probably why I felt so comfortable around her. "Where is Alessio... and Liam?" I add after realizing that it'd be weird for me to be so curious about just Alessio's whereabouts.
"They will be joining. Mr. Galanti only ever misses a family dinner when he's away on business."
"Perfect. Thanks!" I beam up at her, my mood instantly lifting as I jump up and follow after her.
"Does my hair look okay?" I suddenly ask, realizing that in my fit of excitement, I didn't think to look in a mirror.
Divya tilts her head at me. "I don't think there's a single hair out of place."
I don't know how to interpret that, but I still send her a thankful smile before she turns towards the kitchen with a satisfied nod while I continue down the hall towards the dining room.
I straighten a hand down my outfit that consists of a vintage corset-type top and a pair of light-washed jeans.
Nothing special, and I worry that it's not cute enough as I make my way towards my seat next to Liam and adjacent to the head of the table.
The head of the table where Alessio sat.
I had thought myself lucky to have a seat so close to Alessio, but a quick look at the empty chair on the other side of Alessio tells me that no one liked to sit next to the boss.
I wonder why.
I greet Liam with a peck on his cheek, pushing down the little voice in my head that wants to greet Alessio the same, and instead, ignore his broad figure in a perfectly fitted white dress shirt, sitting in his chair, his attention focused on his phone.
It isn't until I take my seat that the man finally turns his head, acknowledging my presence. And when he does, he merely sends me a nod, his face blank, and I can tell even that action is forced.
I don't bother with a response, preoccupying myself with scooping food into my plate. I glance around the rest of the long table.
The table was far too large to be intimate, which explained why everyone was lost in conversation with the people near them.
I tune out Liam's conversation and begin eating my rigatoni, my corner of the table completely silent, and it has everything to do with the Italian Adonis next to me.
That is, until I decide to break it.
"Hey." I turn towards Alessio, swallowing the bite of my food, and send him a small, reserved smile. "I'm sorry about this morning." His attention moves up to me from his phone, and he raises a brow, urging me to continue, and I do.
"It's just that -" I set my utensils down and angle my body towards him. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't really have a good sense of boundaries. And I think I just got so excited because I finally felt comfortable around someone other than Liam for the first time since..." I look down at my lap, my voice cracking.
"Anyways, I didn't realize I came off too strong." I finish, clearing my throat and willing all the emotions away. He's silent, but I can feel his eyes on me. I look up, meeting his intense gaze, and my heart picks up under his scrutiny."I-I wasn't trying to snoop or anything. I just got too excited."
His eyes flicker across my face, and I hold my breath, suddenly knowing why no one wanted to sit next to him.
He could be so intimidating.
It seems like a lifetime passes before he nods in approval, his attention moving to his plate. "Thank you, Bianca. It took me by surprise, too, but it was extremely inappropriate." His tone is so stern that my heart drops at the lack of softness in his tone.
I want that soft voice and smile back.
I purse my lips and nod. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I realize I can be a little too much, and people often don't like it. I'll try to change." I say, genuinely upset with the whole situation.
I just had to go and ruin it.
He sighs and sets his fork down, turning his head back towards me. "You shouldn't have to change yourself for anyone else - let alone me. It'll take some adjusting, but be mindful of my privacy." His tone is still hard, but his words bring me some relief.
I smile up at him. "Will do, I promise." He doesn't return my smile, but he does give me a nod once again.
I resume eating, my lips tipping at the corners because I seem to be moving in the right direction.
Now, all I needed was to spend more time with him so that he could see how amazing I am.
Only a minute after he finishes his food, Alessio gets up and excuses himself, taking a phone call.
I stare after him, my smile dropping as disappointment settles in my chest. "I take it you like Alessio?" Liam asks from next to me.
I turn and send him a lopsided smile. "Yeah. I like him a lot."
He smiles, totally oblivious to the fact that how I liked Alessio was far from innocent. "I'm glad. He isn't the friendliest person, but he has been trying for your sake, my sake, and your mamá's." I momentarily feel guilty as I look at Liam, knowing he wouldn't approve of my plans.
"But I don't think he likes me all that much." I frown, pushing the guilt aside and focusing on what was important.
Getting him to like me.
"Nonsense. He just needs to get used to you. There's no way he wouldn't like you, Gaina, you're awesome." Liam smiles, nudging my elbow with his, yet my face is still apprehensive.
Liam then leans back in his chair and sighs, "Maybe you just need to spend some more time with him?"
I absentmindedly nod along, my mind wandering to my bruised ego.
"He's got meetings for the rest of the day, and he's got the gym booked for the rest of the night for his workout downstairs. So maybe you could find him tomorrow?" Liam offers, and my eyes light up.
"Yeah." I breathe, not hungry anymore, as I get up and excuse myself.
I make my way back up to my room and finish my homework, all the while making a mental note to work out later.
. . .
I wait until it's well past ten pm to change into a cute workout set before making my way towards the basement.
There are two doors at the end of the west hall that stand across from each other, on opposing walls. But they both lead into the basement.
One led down to the recreational area, like the gym, theatre, and game room.
And the other I have yet to explore.
I ignore the urge to explore and head down towards the gym. Walking through the wide hallway where blurred out glass sits alone on one wall, the gym door is located at the end of the hall.
The lights are on, and I spot a blurry figure through the window, telling me that Alessio's in there, and my nerves spike up in the best way possible.
Was this a little risky? Yes.
Did I give a shit? No.
Besides, I've thought this through. I was dressed in classic workout attire - fairly modest for what I was used to. A pair of baby blue leggings and a matching sports bra top with extra support that I needed for my larger chest.
I get to the door and peek through the section that isn't blurred out to make out Alessio's figure.
He's shirtless with his back to me as a pair of basketball shorts hangs low on his hips. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his beautiful skin, and his muscles contract as he lifts some sort of weight.
I had half a mind to just sit here and watch, but I snap myself out of it and push the door open.
The heavy glass barely gives way, and I have to put my entire weight into my push for it to crack open enough for me to get through, slamming shut with a thud just as I slip in.
But the corner of the door catches my heel, scraping it in the process. "Ouch. Stupid fucking door." I hiss under my breath, gritting my teeth and glancing back at it.
Regaining my composure, I turn only to come face-first with Alessio, who's now turned and eyeing me, a brow raised.
My body immediately tenses as embarrassment floods through. I just made a fool out of myself in front of him.
My embarrassment only further intensified the second he moved to grab a shirt and threw it on, covering his toned chest.
"Sorry," I say, diverting my eyes to study the rest of the large gym to act as though I'm scoping out the area. "I didn't know anyone else was in here." I lie.
Only when I look back towards him, his expression dries, and he simply stares at me, as if sensing my bullshit.
My heart rate spikes.
This was stupid. He was a mob boss. He could see right through my bullshit.
What was I thinking coming here?
"I'll come back another time," I mumble, turning around and reaching for the door.
I was bitching out, but I didn't care.
I grab the handle and yank it open, but the stupid door doesn't budge, and I'm left trying to yank open the door while I feel his less-than-impressed gaze on my back.
Until finally, he speaks. "Bianca?"
The way he says my name has me freezing. His voice is low, so deep, and his Italian accent peeks through as he pronounces my name.
"Yeah?" I breathe, turning around to stare at him.
He nods towards the other side of the room, his tongue poking his cheek and his eyes on my face, but he gives nothing away. "Exit door is over there."
I deflate, releasing a heavy breath. Not knowing if I should be disappointed or relieved at his response. I go with the latter. "Right."
I make my way towards the exit door and shake my head. Who the fuck needed two separate doors? One for entering and one for exiting?
Apparently, he did.
But just as I pass him, he releases the softest of sighs under his breath. "It's fine, you can stay. I'm almost done here, anyway."
I stop and send him a tight smile. I didn't actually want to work out. But I play it off. "It's okay. I don't want to impose. I'll wait-"
But he cuts me off with a look. It's hard and intimidating, while his voice is authoritative and final. "Go do your workout, Bianca."
I simply blink at him, hating the way he oozes so much dominance, but also hating the way I was compelled to listen to him.
To be honest, I hate working out. Aside from at-home exercises to keep my figure toned, I didn't work out. I only wanted to come in here and possibly work my way into working out with him.
But I fear he's far too perceptive to buy my act, and he'll see right through me. If he already doesn't.
I force a smile and move towards the closest machine I was somewhat familiar with - a treadmill. "Okay."
For the next little bit, I decide to play it safe and look busy just until he leaves, so I can slip out after him and wallow in a pool of self-pity at my plan backfiring.
I set the machine on an incline and keep a steady walking pace, busying myself with my phone while Alessio continues his workout. But I can't help the way my eyes drift towards him.
He's toned, muscular, and every time he pulls himself over the bar, his shoulder muscles contract beneath his shirt. He doesn't make weird faces or heavy breathing noises while doing his workout.
He's quiet, and aside from the slight flush of his cheeks and the dampening of his dark hair, he looks completely perfect.
But his hands gripping the metal bar are where my attention goes. Large, veiny with calloused fingers and a few gold rings.
His hands were perfect.
"You want to have a go?" His deep, rough voice shakes me out of my thoughts, and I snap my eyes up to him.
"What? No." I breathe, flushing slightly that he'd caught me staring at his hands. "Why would I want that?"
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7.7
My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly.

9.1
Amélie Rousseau grows up believing that honesty, hard work, and faith will save her from poverty.
Paris proves her wrong.
Despite her brilliance, every door stays closed-until the day Clara Duval, the woman Amélie once helped, steals her future through lies, favors, and corruption. When Amélie dares to speak up, the system silences her and laughs.
That is when Monsieur Lefèvre offers her a way out.
Under his guidance, Amélie learns the true language of power-deception, loyalty, and sacrifice. One lie leads to another, and soon she rises in the same world that once rejected her.
But Julien Moreau, the man who loves the girl she used to be, watches her change.
At the height of her success, Amélie must choose: destroy Julien to protect her empire, or expose the corruption and lose everything.
Because in Paris, goodness is not free-
and survival always demands a price.

9.4
Lucy is a cheerful human princess who enjoyed her peaceful life at the palace but mainly on the busty village streets.
What will happen when she sneaks out as usual, only to return and find out her father had been defeated by an unknown man will her life change for good or bad or gray as she tries to get back her father's throne even if it meant staying under the enemy's nose.
will she take her revenge or fall for the one person who has ruined her father.
she has to make up her mind between following her heart or be blinded by a false revenge.

9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
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8.7
The world was a symphony of agony, played on the strings of my own body. I was tied to a chair in a damp basement, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth as my fingernails were ripped from their beds by a pair of rusty pliers.
My best friend, Corrine, stepped into the flickering light wearing my favorite Chanel suit and the engagement ring that was supposed to be mine. Beside her, my fiancé Aldo held the pliers, his voice smooth and cultured as he demanded I sign over my entire inheritance to them.
As I struggled, a news report flashed on an old TV in the corner: Hunter Gallagher, the man I had treated like dirt but who had always tried to protect me, was dead in a horrific car explosion. Corrine laughed, whispering in my ear that they had lured him to his death using a fake kidnapping tip. He died trying to save me from a trap set by the people I trusted most.
They didn't just want my money; they wanted to erase me. They plunged a needle full of heroin into my neck, watching with cold, mocking eyes as my heart hammered against my ribs and finally seized into nothingness.
I died in that basement, a blind, spoiled girl who had let her true protector be murdered. As the darkness closed in, my soul burned with a single, silent vow: If I ever get another life, I will drag you both to hell with me.
Suddenly, I gasped for air, my lungs fighting against a weight that wasn't there. I wasn't in the basement; I was in my own bed, my fingernails intact and my skin unbroken. I checked my phone, and my heart stopped—it was May 20th, exactly one year before my death. Hunter was still alive, and this time, I wasn't the prey.

7.5
I lay paralyzed in a luxury Swiss clinic, my body a heavy sack of meat I no longer controlled. The heart monitor’s rhythmic beep was the only thing louder than the silence, a mocking countdown to my inevitable end.
My fiancé, Jordan, walked in looking impeccable in the custom suit I had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't alone; my best friend, Chloe, followed him into the room, wearing the vintage Givenchy dress I had saved for our anniversary gala.
Jordan didn't look like a grieving man; he looked bored as he held up a blue folder confirming that my family's offshore trust had finally cleared. Chloe giggled, leaning over me to ask if I finally realized it was the engagement wine she had spiked seven days ago. Jordan brushed a cold hand over my forehead, calling me a "perfect little asset" before pulling Chloe into a hungry kiss right over my dying body. To ensure there was no turning back, he pulled out a silver lighter and set my living will on fire, watching the only document that could have saved me turn to ash.
I tried to scream, to curse them both to hell for stealing my life and my legacy, but all that came out was a wet, rattling wheeze. My own father, I would later learn, had known about the takeover and chose the profit over his own daughter's life.
As the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent, desperate promise: if there was anything after this, I would come back and destroy every single one of them.
I gasped, my body jerking upright as air rushed into my lungs like liquid fire.
I wasn't in Switzerland, and there was no poison in my veins. I was back in my Manhattan bedroom, staring at a phone that read June 12—the morning of the wedding, the day I was supposed to die, and the day I decided to burn their world to the ground.