Bound by the Don(4)

By: Brook Wilder

For miles, she looked over her shoulder, waiting to see a set of headlights following her.

She never did.

She was free.

And now, the sizzling hot conclusion:



Chapter 1


Vittorio woke to the sound of rain. For a moment he laid there, listening to the drops on the window, the room still dark in the early hours of the morning. When was the last time he had slept this well? When had he felt so at peace with himself that he didn’t thrash about the bed in his sleep? There was someone else that knew his secrets now, someone he trusted. Sharon had his heart and he wasn’t afraid for her to know.

Flexing his sore hands, he turned his head hoping to see Sharon still asleep beside him, that it hadn’t been a torturous dream and she really had forgiven him. A soft smile, that lightness in her eyes, was what he needed to see.

The bed was empty.

Shooting up from under the covers, Vittorio tamped down the swirl of concern as he investigated the bathroom, only to find it empty too, her clothes missing from the pile on the floor. She wasn’t where he expected her to be and the house was too silent for his liking.

Something was wrong.

“Sharon!” he bellowed, stalking out of the bedroom and down the hall.

She had to be here. There was nowhere else for her to go and she wouldn’t just take off without him. Sharon was smart, she knew how much he loved her, wanted to protect her.

Heedless of his naked state, Vittorio checked every room, half hoping to find her curled in one of the other beds, teaching him a lesson for scaring her so badly. He was fucking sorry about what he done. She wasn’t ready for his cruel world. She was too precious to be thrown into the violence that he was used to. He would shield her from it until she was ready.

He had been trying to teach her a lesson in reality and it had backfired.

But he found her nowhere.

“Fuck,” he swore, as he ran to the garage. His heart was about to beat out of his chest at not being able to find Sharon, to make sure she was okay.

She had to be okay.

There it was, or rather there it wasn’t, the proof that he had just woken up in a fucking nightmare. His Mercedes was missing.

Vittorio thrust a hand through his hair, his body shaking with simmering rage. She had been taken by that asshole. He could feel it in his bones. The intruder, the graffiti left on his properties, it had only been the beginning.

And now, now he had taken this war one step further, the step he knew Vittorio would not be able to ignore.

Rocco had fucking taken Sharon, the woman that had broken through his walls and stolen his heart. There would be nothing left of her, nothing left of the innocent, beautiful woman. Sharon was a fighter, but he was a monster and he would break her. He would destroy her to prove a point.

Monster. That was a word that Sharon had used to describe Vittorio less than twenty-four hours ago. She had said she’d forgiven him, but there had been hesitation in her eyes when she was fucking him. Vittorio had never said he wasn’t the monster she saw last night, but the fear in her eyes had nearly tore him apart.

Vittorio walked back into the house and found his cell, He pressed the numbers on the key pad angrily before holding it up to his ear.


“He fucking took her,” Vittorio growled, prowling back into the bedroom where he’d last seen her. Hell, he could still smell her scent in the air, on his skin.


“Rocco. He took Sharon.”

“Shit,” Marcello swore into the phone as Vittorio reached for his pants, pulling them on. “I’m sorry man. I know you cared for her.”

“He’s starting the damn war,” Vittorio growled as he found his shirt. “I’m coming after him.”

“Listen, Vit, I know you like her and all, but do you really wanna go down that path for a chick?”

“I’m going to get her,” he replied.

He wasn’t going to leave her at the mercy of Rocco. Sharon was his fucking world now and the thought of what she could go through, it made him sick to his stomach.

She should never have been part of this world, but she was and he would protect her with his life.

Marcello sighed into the phone, clearly not happy with his decision but smart enough to know that he couldn’t talk Vittorio out of it. He would be wasting his fucking breath at this point.

“I’ll put some feelers out.”

Vittorio grunted before dropping the cell on the bed and throwing the shirt over his head. His mind was already on what he had to do, what must be done. If she thought he was a monster before, he was about to prove how much of a monster he could be.