Too Late, Don Moretti

Chapter 3

Word Count: 697 | Released on: 18/06/2026

r. I knelt on the icy tiles to retrieve the diamond, leaving t

from the depths of the closet and began to

as a secure video message from Sasha-a trusted A

the deep shadows of a booth inside

e of intoxication. His tie hung loose, his collar unbuttoned, while his Capos

his side, her gaze fixed upon him w

cross the table; they were engaged in

s narrowing at the result. He

ntimate gesture with a woman present. Tonight, the

ists against the table, r

pasta from a shared plate. Placing one end

ephone in my hand began

ll, at once switc

ian ordered, his voice slurr

I replied, my tone

e growled. "You are my

pathetic thing,

eaker, the only sound was the heavy

, his voice dropping a full octave, sudd

pressed the red button

e later, Sasha se

arkened telephone screen. His handsome features were

evice, shattering it into pieces

on the dark booth. He had seen Sasha holding her te

he booth by the lapels of her jacket. He sho

ding," he b

e nape of her neck, jerking her flush against hi

pure spite. Isabella eagerly wrapped her ar

drew out their own telep

oured her mouth for what fe

ectly into the lens of Sasha's camera. A m

eneath my ribs, it felt as though someone had packed a great mass of wet cotton

he digital calendar gl

the day I had bled out on a filthy warehouse

d it shut. The sound was quiet, unremarkable-the closing of

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

Too Late, Don Moretti

Apache Mafia

“I took a bullet to the chest to save Julian, the ruthless Don of the New York Syndicate. For five years, I laundered his millions, intercepted his enemies, and was meant to be his wife. But seven days before our wedding, he allowed his young ward, Isabella, to steal my matriarchal betrothal ring and flaunt it on the dark web. When I demanded he postpone the wedding until it was returned, he called me theatrical and took her to his private coastal safehouse. To punish my defiance, he ordered my emergency heart medication removed from my safe. "I merely wanted to test if you were feigning your little illness for attention." That was the text Isabella sent me. But I wasn't feigning. My chest seized, and I collapsed on the hardwood floor. I flatlined twice in an off-the-grid clinic. While doctors used defibrillators to violently restart my failing heart, Julian was in an underground arena, publicly sliding a massive diamond onto Isabella's finger. I had spent every drop of my blood to build his dominion, yet he left me to die just to humor a spoiled girl's games. I finally understood that my lifelong devotion was nothing but a cheap convenience to him. When I woke up, I didn't shed a single tear. I printed a meticulous ledger of my blood debts, marked the balance as zero, and vanished to Europe. This time, I would build a mafia empire of my own.”