2d:I[40072,["6446","static/chunks/53c13509-e7ec011f8ac7df7d.js","6711","static/chunks/8e1d74a4-841e61b20d784c5f.js","2266","static/chunks/870fdd6f-d81c5e21b0b96e34.js","5802","static/chunks/69b09407-1ce59c69e508049d.js","8500","static/chunks/8500-01a63dafd809e317.js","8437","static/chunks/8437-39ef04864806a0fa.js","6659","static/chunks/6659-a0fca0b5b95eb832.js","1610","static/chunks/1610-af6f888fe3ea871a.js","2100","static/chunks/2100-768a05088f320fce.js","6499","static/chunks/6499-3139357d7362d8fa.js","601","static/chunks/601-42518cde4342bee4.js","7663","static/chunks/7663-6ceb204adfa521ed.js","1590","static/chunks/1590-e3c2534bd9981dc0.js","9891","static/chunks/9891-b38e0d155155abb8.js","2454","static/chunks/2454-891c5d61f37783df.js","5295","static/chunks/5295-787dbbda1859ca1f.js","1628","static/chunks/app/story/%5Bslug%5D/page-b77bdb6caccad907.js"],"default"] 2e:I[86215,["6446","static/chunks/53c13509-e7ec011f8ac7df7d.js","6711","static/chunks/8e1d74a4-841e61b20d784c5f.js","2266","static/chunks/870fdd6f-d81c5e21b0b96e34.js","5802","static/chunks/69b09407-1ce59c69e508049d.js","8500","static/chunks/8500-01a63dafd809e317.js","8437","static/chunks/8437-39ef04864806a0fa.js","6659","static/chunks/6659-a0fca0b5b95eb832.js","1610","static/chunks/1610-af6f888fe3ea871a.js","2100","static/chunks/2100-768a05088f320fce.js","6499","static/chunks/6499-3139357d7362d8fa.js","601","static/chunks/601-42518cde4342bee4.js","7663","static/chunks/7663-6ceb204adfa521ed.js","1590","static/chunks/1590-e3c2534bd9981dc0.js","9891","static/chunks/9891-b38e0d155155abb8.js","2454","static/chunks/2454-891c5d61f37783df.js","5295","static/chunks/5295-787dbbda1859ca1f.js","1628","static/chunks/app/story/%5Bslug%5D/page-b77bdb6caccad907.js"],"default"] 2f:I[62454,["6446","static/chunks/53c13509-e7ec011f8ac7df7d.js","6711","static/chunks/8e1d74a4-841e61b20d784c5f.js","2266","static/chunks/870fdd6f-d81c5e21b0b96e34.js","5802","static/chunks/69b09407-1ce59c69e508049d.js","8500","static/chunks/8500-01a63dafd809e317.js","8437","static/chunks/8437-39ef04864806a0fa.js","6659","static/chunks/6659-a0fca0b5b95eb832.js","1610","static/chunks/1610-af6f888fe3ea871a.js","2100","static/chunks/2100-768a05088f320fce.js","6499","static/chunks/6499-3139357d7362d8fa.js","601","static/chunks/601-42518cde4342bee4.js","7663","static/chunks/7663-6ceb204adfa521ed.js","1590","static/chunks/1590-e3c2534bd9981dc0.js","9891","static/chunks/9891-b38e0d155155abb8.js","2454","static/chunks/2454-891c5d61f37783df.js","5295","static/chunks/5295-787dbbda1859ca1f.js","1628","static/chunks/app/story/%5Bslug%5D/page-b77bdb6caccad907.js"],"default"] 38:I[86869,[],"IconMark"] 30:Te37,

The rain fell heavily over the streets of Palermo.

The streets were almost deserted. All the shops were closed, and the light from the street lamps reflected on the wet roads.

A black car stopped near an old building.

Three men wearing black clothes stepped out of the car. Their faces were covered.

One of them looked at his watch.

“He’s coming,” he said.

Another man checked his gun.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes. Our boss wants Dante Moretti dead tonight.”

They hid in the darkness and waited.

A few minutes later, another black car arrived.

The door opened, and a tall man stepped out.

He wore a black shirt and black trousers. An expensive watch was on his wrist. His dark hair was slightly wet from the rain.

His face showed no emotion.

His name was Dante Moretti.

At thirty, Dante was one of the most powerful mafia bosses in Italy. He controlled a large criminal empire, and many powerful men feared him.

He was rich, dangerous, and ruthless.

He trusted very few people.

But he never forgave betrayal.

Dante adjusted his watch and looked at his phone.

His personal assistant, Adrian Costa, had sent him several messages.

Dante called him.

“Where are you?” Adrian asked immediately.

“I'm on my way back.”

“Don, please be careful. We received information that someone is planning to attack you.”

Dante smiled coldly.

“Tell them to come.”

“Sir, I'm being serious.”

“So am I. Send two men to the warehouse. I'll meet you there.”

“Understood, Don.”

Dante ended the call and put his phone away.

He began walking towards his car.

Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him.

Before he could turn around, a man stepped out of the darkness.

“Good evening, Moretti.”

Dante slowly turned.

“Who are you?”

The man laughed.

“You won't remember my name.”

He raised his gun.

BANG!

The bullet struck Dante in the chest, near his shoulder.

Dante stumbled backwards.

“Fuck!”

He pressed his hand against the wound.

Blood began spreading across his black shirt.

Three more men appeared around him.

One of them smiled.

“Your time is over, Dante.”

Dante tried to reach for his gun.

But the pain was becoming unbearable.

He pulled out his weapon and fired at one of the men.

The man fell to the ground.

The others immediately hid behind a nearby car.

“Kill him!” one of them shouted.

Dante fired again, preventing them from approaching him.

Then he ran into a narrow street.

He could hear the men chasing him.

His breathing became heavy.

He pressed his hand harder against his chest.

“Not tonight,” he whispered.

He had survived many attacks in his life.

He wasn't ready to die in a dark street like a helpless man.

But his vision began to blur.

He needed help.

And he needed it immediately.

To be continued...

31:Te37,

The rain fell heavily over the streets of Palermo.

The streets were almost deserted. All the shops were closed, and the light from the street lamps reflected on the wet roads.

A black car stopped near an old building.

Three men wearing black clothes stepped out of the car. Their faces were covered.

One of them looked at his watch.

“He’s coming,” he said.

Another man checked his gun.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes. Our boss wants Dante Moretti dead tonight.”

They hid in the darkness and waited.

A few minutes later, another black car arrived.

The door opened, and a tall man stepped out.

He wore a black shirt and black trousers. An expensive watch was on his wrist. His dark hair was slightly wet from the rain.

His face showed no emotion.

His name was Dante Moretti.

At thirty, Dante was one of the most powerful mafia bosses in Italy. He controlled a large criminal empire, and many powerful men feared him.

He was rich, dangerous, and ruthless.

He trusted very few people.

But he never forgave betrayal.

Dante adjusted his watch and looked at his phone.

His personal assistant, Adrian Costa, had sent him several messages.

Dante called him.

“Where are you?” Adrian asked immediately.

“I'm on my way back.”

“Don, please be careful. We received information that someone is planning to attack you.”

Dante smiled coldly.

“Tell them to come.”

“Sir, I'm being serious.”

“So am I. Send two men to the warehouse. I'll meet you there.”

“Understood, Don.”

Dante ended the call and put his phone away.

He began walking towards his car.

Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him.

Before he could turn around, a man stepped out of the darkness.

“Good evening, Moretti.”

Dante slowly turned.

“Who are you?”

The man laughed.

“You won't remember my name.”

He raised his gun.

BANG!

The bullet struck Dante in the chest, near his shoulder.

Dante stumbled backwards.

“Fuck!”

He pressed his hand against the wound.

Blood began spreading across his black shirt.

Three more men appeared around him.

One of them smiled.

“Your time is over, Dante.”

Dante tried to reach for his gun.

But the pain was becoming unbearable.

He pulled out his weapon and fired at one of the men.

The man fell to the ground.

The others immediately hid behind a nearby car.

“Kill him!” one of them shouted.

Dante fired again, preventing them from approaching him.

Then he ran into a narrow street.

He could hear the men chasing him.

His breathing became heavy.

He pressed his hand harder against his chest.

“Not tonight,” he whispered.

He had survived many attacks in his life.

He wasn't ready to die in a dark street like a helpless man.

But his vision began to blur.

He needed help.

And he needed it immediately.

To be continued...

32:T1366,

Several streets away, a young woman was walking home.

Her name was Isabella Romano.

She was twenty-four years old.

She wore a simple blue dress with a thin jacket over it. Her shoes were old, and her handbag contained almost nothing.

She was returning home after finishing her second job.

Her feet hurt. Her back ached. She was hungry.

“Another day is over,” she whispered.

She checked the time on her phone.

It was almost midnight.

“Rent, electricity bills, food, college fees... Why does everything cost so much money?”

She sighed.

“If I had known that being an adult was this difficult, I would have asked for my money back when I was born.”

Despite her exhaustion, she smiled at her own joke.

She had learned to laugh at her problems because crying never solved anything.

Isabella had spent twenty-one years of her life in a children's shelter.

She had watched other children leave with their parents. Some were adopted, while others returned to families who loved them.

But Isabella had always wondered why nobody had come to take her home.

She could still remember sitting near the shelter's front gate on her birthday.

She had waited for someone to arrive.

But nobody came.

Every year, she waited.

Then, when she was twenty-one, a family finally found her.

Her biological family.

The Romano family.

They were wealthy, respected, and well known throughout the city.

Her father, Marcello Romano, was a successful businessman. Her mother, Veronica Romano, lived a comfortable life. Her elder brother, Ethan Romano, had everything he needed.

And then there was Sofia Romano.

Sofia was Isabella's adopted sister. They were the same age, but their lives had been completely different.

Sofia had grown up surrounded by love, expensive gifts, and attention.

Meanwhile, Isabella had grown up wondering what a mother's embrace felt like.

When Isabella first entered the Romano mansion, she believed her life was finally going to change.

She dreamed of having dinner with her family, celebrating birthdays, and hearing her mother ask about her day.

She imagined having a brother who would protect her.

Above all, she believed she had finally found a home.

But some dreams could be cruel.

Marcello believed Isabella needed to learn discipline and the value of money.

He decided to send her to another city to study.

He gave her a small amount of money and told her to manage her own expenses.

Sofia supported his decision.

“She needs to learn how to live independently, Father,” Sofia said sweetly. “You cannot keep helping her forever.”

Nobody noticed the small smile on her face.

Isabella tried to explain that the money wasn't enough.

But Marcello refused to listen.

“You're an adult now, Isabella. Learn to take responsibility for yourself.”

Veronica remained silent.

Ethan simply told Isabella not to argue with their father.

Only one person objected.

Her grandmother, Rebecca Romano.

“She is your daughter, Marcello! She has already suffered enough!”

But Marcello refused to change his decision.

Before Isabella left, Rebecca hugged her.

“My dear girl, never think that you are unwanted. At least one person will always love you.”

Isabella cried in her grandmother's arms.

Now, she lived alone in a small apartment and worked two jobs to earn money for rent and food.

Her family sent Sofia expensive gifts and generous amounts of money.

But Isabella only received occasional messages asking whether her studies were going well.

Nobody asked whether she was eating enough.

Nobody asked whether she was lonely.

Only Rebecca called her regularly.

Isabella looked at her phone.

A message from her grandmother had arrived.

Rebecca: My darling, have you eaten?

Isabella smiled sadly.

She typed a reply.

Isabella: Yes, Grandma. Don't worry about me. I'm fine.

It was a lie.

That afternoon, she had eaten only a small piece of bread.

But she didn't want her grandmother to worry.

Isabella put her phone away and continued walking.

She had no idea that, within a few minutes, her life would change forever.

To be continued...

33:Tbf6,

Isabella heard a strange sound coming from a nearby alley.

She stopped.

“Is anyone there?”

There was no answer.

She thought about continuing her walk.

But the next moment, she heard a man groaning in pain.

She slowly walked towards the alley.

When she arrived, she froze.

A man was leaning against a wall.

His shirt was covered in blood, and one hand was pressed against his chest.

He looked pale.

But when he lifted his head, Isabella noticed his eyes.

They were cold and frightening.

“Please...” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

He looked at her.

“Come here.”

Isabella hesitated.

“You need an ambulance.”

“I said, come here.”

She took a small step forward.

Then she noticed the gun in his hand.

Her heart began to beat faster.

“Please don't hurt me.”

“Do you have a home nearby?”

“What?”

“Your home. Is it close?”

Isabella slowly nodded.

“Yes, but...”

“Take me there.”

She stared at him.

“I don't even know you!”

He tried to stand straight, but his body trembled with pain.

“Do you want to die tonight?”

“No!”

“Then take me to your home.”

He raised his gun and pointed it at her.

Tears filled Isabella's eyes.

She had never felt death this close before.

“Please...” she whispered. “I haven't done anything wrong.”

“Then help me.”

She looked at his wound.

He was losing a lot of blood.

She knew she should run away.

She also knew she should call the police.

But the gun was pointed at her, and she was terrified.

“Okay...” she whispered. “I'll help you.”

“Move.”

Isabella turned and walked towards her apartment.

The injured man followed her, holding his gun.

Every few steps, he stopped because of the pain and struggled to catch his breath.

Finally, they reached her apartment.

Isabella unlocked the door with trembling hands.

“Go inside,” he ordered.

She opened the door.

He entered and looked around the small room.

“Do you live alone?”

“Yes.”

“Will anyone else come here tonight?”

“No.”

“Good. Close the door.”

She did as he said.

The moment the door closed, Isabella realised something terrible.

She had brought a dangerous stranger into her home.

And she had no idea how to get him out.

To be continued...

34:Tfe6,

Isabella's apartment was small.

There was a sofa, a wooden table, a tiny kitchen, and one bedroom.

The furniture was old, but the room was clean.

Dante looked around.

“This is where you live?”

Isabella frowned.

“Yes. Why?”

“Nothing.”

He lowered himself onto the sofa.

His face tightened with pain.

Isabella immediately went to the bathroom and returned with a first-aid box.

“Let me see your wound.”

He looked at her suspiciously.

“Why?”

“Because you're bleeding!”

“Don't shout at me.”

“I'm not shouting!”

He slowly looked up at her.

Isabella immediately became quiet.

“Sorry.”

She placed the first-aid box on the table.

“Please remove your shirt. I need to clean the wound.”

Dante stared at her.

“Are you giving me orders now?”

She looked at him in disbelief.

“Would you prefer to bleed to death on my sofa?”

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he removed his shirt.

Isabella saw the wound near his chest.

Her face turned pale.

“Oh, God!”

“Can you treat it?”

“I don't know. I'm not a doctor.”

“Then do what you can.”

Isabella took a deep breath.

She carefully cleaned the wound and placed a fresh dressing over it.

Dante watched her face.

She was clearly frightened, but she continued helping him.

“What's your name?” he asked.

“Isabella.”

“Full name.”

“Isabella Romano.”

He studied her for a moment.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Do you always help strangers?”

“No. Most strangers don't point guns at my head.”

A small smile appeared on his lips.

Almost.

She finished dressing the wound and stepped back.

“You need proper medical treatment. I can clean the wound, but I can't treat a gunshot injury.”

“No hospital.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

She folded her arms.

“That isn't a good reason.”

His expression became cold.

“Do you want to argue with me?”

“No. I want you to stop bleeding in my living room.”

Dante leaned back on the sofa.

His strength was fading.

For the first time that night, he realised he might not be able to leave the apartment without help.

He looked at Isabella.

“Bring me some water.”

She brought him a glass.

He drank slowly.

Then he placed the glass on the table.

“Where is your bedroom?”

Isabella pointed towards the door.

“Over there.”

“Go to sleep.”

She stared at him.

“What will you do?”

“I'll stay here.”

She hesitated.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

Dante looked directly into her eyes.

“Not unless you give me a reason.”

That wasn't the answer she had wanted.

But she didn't have the courage to ask anything else.

She went into her bedroom and closed the door.

Dante remained on the sofa with his gun beside him.

He couldn't trust Isabella.

In truth, he didn't trust anyone.

But as the hours passed, the pain increased, and his eyes slowly closed.

For the first time in years, the feared Don Moretti fell asleep in a stranger's home.

To be continued...

35:Ted1,

The next morning, Isabella woke up early.

She had barely slept.

She was worried about the man in her living room, but she was even more frightened of what he might do to her.

She slowly opened her bedroom door.

Dante was lying on the sofa.

His face was pale, and his breathing was slow.

Isabella picked up the first-aid box and walked towards him.

“Excuse me...” she whispered. “I need to change your bandage.”

His eyes opened immediately.

Before she could step back, he grabbed his gun.

He pointed it at her forehead.

“Don't move!”

Isabella screamed.

“Please! It's me!”

“I know who you are.”

“Then why are you pointing that at me?”

“Did you call the police?”

“No!”

“Did you tell anyone about me?”

“No! I swear!”

He slowly stood up, ignoring the pain.

“Look at me.”

Isabella forced herself to look into his eyes.

“If I find out that you've told anyone about me, you'll regret it.”

Tears ran down her cheeks.

“I haven't told anyone. I swear.”

He stared at her.

She showed him the fresh bandages in her hand.

“I only came to change your dressing. Look!”

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then he lowered his gun slightly.

“Do it.”

Isabella carefully approached him.

Her hands trembled as she removed the old bandage.

The wound still looked serious.

“You need medicine,” she said. “And you need a doctor.”

“I know.”

“Then let me call someone.”

“No.”

“You're impossible.”

He raised his eyes.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

She quickly finished changing the dressing.

When she stepped away, Dante reached for his wallet.

He took out a black bank card.

“Take this.”

Isabella looked at it.

“What is this?”

“My card. Buy the medicine I need.”

She was confused.

“You want me to use your card?”

“That's what I said.”

“But I don't even know your name!”

He gave her a cold look.

“Do you need my name to buy medicine?”

“No, but...”

“Take it.”

She slowly accepted the card.

The next moment, he raised his gun again.

Isabella froze.

“Listen carefully, Isabella Romano.”

His voice was quiet and dangerous.

“You'll buy the medicine and return here. You won't tell anyone about me.”

She nodded.

“If you tell anyone about me, you're dead. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now go.”

Isabella picked up her handbag.

Before leaving, she turned towards him.

“Can you at least tell me what to call you?”

Dante's eyes narrowed.

“You don't need to know.”

She immediately left the apartment.

The door closed.

Dante lowered his gun.

He had given a stranger his bank card.

He had also shown her his face.

He hated the situation.

But he had no other choice.

For now, he needed her help.

To be continued...

36:T9b8,

Outside, Isabella leaned against the wall.

Her heart was still beating rapidly.

“That man has absolutely no sense,” she muttered.

She looked at the black card in her hand.

It looked extremely expensive.

She had no idea how much money was in his account.

But she understood one thing.

He wasn't an ordinary man.

His clothes were expensive. His gun was real. He spoke like someone who was used to controlling others.

Isabella walked towards the pharmacy.

She bought the medicine and fresh bandages that were available without a prescription.

The pharmacist warned her that a gunshot wound required immediate professional medical treatment.

Isabella already knew that.

But the injured man had refused to go to a hospital.

She couldn't force him.

After leaving the pharmacy, she went to a supermarket.

She bought eggs, bread, rice, vegetables, and a few other items.

She wanted to prepare a proper meal.

As she walked down the street, she noticed a shop selling animal-care products and supplies for pets.

She stopped in front of the shop window.

Then an idea came to her.

She entered the shop and looked around.

A few minutes later, she came out carrying a large bag.

A strange smile appeared on her face.

“I need to find out who you really are, Mr. Stranger.”

She checked the time and continued walking.

Before returning home, she bought a few more things.

She was afraid of Dante.

But her curiosity was stronger than she had expected.

She wanted to know his name.

She wanted to know why someone had tried to kill him.

She also wanted to know how a man like him had become so powerful.

And she had developed a strong physical attraction to his handsome body.

Perhaps discovering his identity would help her understand the strange world she had entered.

Perhaps it would even help her change her life.

For the first time, Isabella wanted to take control of her own future.

But she had no idea that she was walking towards a danger far greater than anything she had ever faced.

To be continued...

37:T17a7,

When Isabella opened the apartment door, Dante was awake.

He was sitting on the sofa, watching the entrance.

His gun was beside him.

“You're late,” he said.

Isabella looked at the clock.

“I haven't even been gone for an hour!”

“Forty-seven minutes.”

She stared at him in surprise.

“You were counting?”

“I notice everything.”

“That must be exhausting.”

His eyes narrowed.

“What's in those bags?”

“Medicine, food, and a few other things.”

“Put them on the table.”

She did as he said.

Dante checked the medicine first.

“Did you buy everything?”

“Everything I could get. But you still need a doctor.”

He ignored her comment.

Then he noticed the groceries.

“What's all this?”

“Food.”

“I can see that.”

“Then why are you asking?”

Dante slowly turned towards her.

Isabella realised what she had just said.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Dante gave her a small, cold smile.

“You have a habit of talking back.”

“And you have a habit of pointing guns at people.”

His smile disappeared.

Isabella immediately lowered her eyes.

“Sorry.”

“Don't apologise if you don't mean it.”

She looked at him.

“I mean it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

He watched her for a moment before looking away.

“Fine. Now tell me what you're planning to do with all those groceries.”

“I'm going to prepare breakfast.”

“For me?”

“For both of us. I haven't eaten properly since yesterday.”

Dante looked at her as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“You bring an injured stranger into your home, and now you're preparing breakfast for him?”

“You were the one who told me to bring you here!”

“Be careful, Isabella.”

She pressed her lips together.

Then she picked up the grocery bags.

“I'm going to the kitchen.”

She turned and walked away.

Dante watched her leave.

He couldn't understand her.

She was afraid of him, yet she continued arguing with him.

She had used his card to spend money and buy food for both of them.

He didn't know whether she was foolish or simply different from everyone else he had ever met.

But he didn't like the fact that he wanted to know more about her.

### Breakfast

Isabella placed the groceries on the kitchen counter.

Then she looked towards the living room.

Dante was still watching her.

She immediately turned away.

She had bought something from the animal-care shop for a specific reason.

She took the bag out of her handbag and checked its contents.

Then she looked at Dante again.

She needed to be very careful.

Even a small mistake could make him angry.

She had already learned how dangerous Dante Moretti could be when he was angry.

She placed the bag inside a cupboard and began preparing breakfast.

Soon, the smell of fried eggs and toasted bread spread throughout the apartment.

Dante closed his eyes for a moment.

He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had sat in a quiet room and smelled freshly prepared food without thinking about business, betrayal, or death.

But he immediately pushed the thought aside.

He was still in danger.

His enemies were still searching for him.

And he didn't know whether Isabella could be trusted.

In the kitchen, Isabella finished preparing the food.

She placed two plates on the table.

“Breakfast is ready.”

Dante looked at the table.

“Do you expect me to eat this?”

Isabella stared at him in disbelief.

“No. I prepared it for the ghost living in my bedroom.”

He looked at her.

She looked back at him.

For a moment, she thought he was going to become angry.

Instead, Dante slowly laughed.

It was a small laugh, but it was genuine.

Isabella was surprised.

Isabella: “You can laugh? I thought your face didn't even know how to smile.”

Dante's smile disappeared.

Dante: “Be careful, little girl.”

Isabella: “I'm twenty-four. I'm not a little girl.”

Dante: “Then stop behaving like one.”

Isabella rolled her eyes and returned to the kitchen.

Dante silently watched her walk away.

She cleared the plates and organised the remaining groceries.

A few minutes later, she picked up the bag she had bought earlier and placed it on the wooden table.

She stood there, staring at the items inside.

Then, slowly, a mysterious smile appeared on her lips.

Isabella: “Let's see how this works.”

She glanced towards Dante.

He was still sitting on the sofa, completely unaware of anything unusual.

Isabella picked up the bag again, and her smile widened.

For the first time since meeting the dangerous stranger, it seemed that she had a secret of her own.

Whatever she was planning, she had no intention of telling him.

End of Book 1

To be continued...

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Mafia Don's Captive Donna

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