

The Don’s Final Chapter
I was with a fishmonger for seven years. Every night, he pinned me beneath him, reckless and wild.
Until one day, he took off his bloodstained apron and came clean–he was getting engaged to Sophia, the Bilotti heiress.
Only then did I learn that he was the Don of the Colleo family.
“Hahaha! You fooled around with Ms. Mancini for seven years, only to take another delicate young lady’s hand in marriage. Surely, she’s going to come at you.”
“Don Colleo, you should keep things sweet with her.”
His men’s laughter echoed in my ears.
“What’s the rush? I’ve broken her well enough these past seven years. If you don’t mind, you can have her for a couple of days. Evelyn… flexible.”
On the day of Vincent’s engagement party, I handed the evidence of his crimes to the police.
As the sirens ripped open the city night, someone called out my name.
I smiled and leaped from the eighteenth floor.
The family lawyer stared at me through a projection screen.
“Are you sure you want to hand over all the evidence? Every power will retaliate, and there won’t be a place in the city for Evelyn Mancini.”
“I’m certain.”
“The stakes are incredibly high. You have 24 hours to think it over.”
The projection flickered out.
Just as soon as my phone shut off, a soft click came from the door lock.
Carrying a faint, almost undetectable trace of scent, Vincent Colleo strode in.
“Why are your hands so cold?” He gripped my hands.
Without withdrawing my arms, I said calmly, “Congrats, you’re about to become the son-in-law of the Bilottis.”
His jaw clenched tight.
I knew that he had given a strict command.
No one was to reveal his engagement to Sophia Bilotti to me.
Violators would be disciplined as dictated by the code.
“Evelyn.” Vincent pulled me to him, his expression shifting into resigned tenderness.
“The Bilottis can offer me a clean slate. You know the struggles I’ve been through to get where I am today.”
He traced the outline of my chin. “Once I gain my foothold, things will be as they were. You will always be my one and only.”
“Really?”
I turned around to meet his gaze.
Vincent’s eyes bore into mine with intensity.
Those green eyes that I once lost myself in showed no signs of deceit.
“Of course. Sophia is the sole heiress to the Bilottis. I need her to legitimize my business.”
Vincent persuaded, “You’ve always been sensible.”
It seemed to have slipped his mind.
I knew he’d planned Sophia’s abduction and taken a bullet for her, all to earn her father’s trust.
“My heart only belongs to you, sweetheart.”
His hand slipped under my blouse.
I pressed against the scar on his chest. “Oh? Or do you just need someone old and reliable to handle your dirty books?”
Vincent took my lips in an attempt to silence my questioning.
“I only love you.” His rugged breath brushed against the skin of my neck.
“Marry me,” I uttered.
He froze.
The lust in Vincent’s eyes faded away, replaced by calculated manipulation. “I’m only doing this so that we can have a better future together, Evelyn.”
“What if I can help you?” I looked him in the eye.
A hint of annoyance and disdain fleeted across his eyes.
It felt as if he was mocking my misplaced confidence.
Just then, his phone rang. It was Sophia calling.
Furrowing his brows, Vincent wanted to reject the call, but Sophia sent a real-time photo.
I glanced at the mobile screen.
The picture showed a ward, with Sophia’s wrist wrapped in white bandages.
She stared at the camera with teary eyes.
The call connected. “Honey, I’m scared. The pain is horrible. Dad said that you promised you wouldn’t let me suffer.”
Vincent grimaced.
He talked on the phone, his voice softening,” Don’t be scared. I’ll be there right away.”
After the call ended, he turned to me. “Sophia is very emotional right now. I need to go.”
Once Vincent took off, I approached the window.
I watched as his car sped into the night.
My phone screen lit up dimly.
A message came from an encrypted channel. “What’s the final confirmation? Is the Sweeper operation a go-ahead? All evidence is lined up. Once it’s set in motion, there’s no turning back.”
I closed my eyes, and upon opening them, only absolute certainty remained.
My finger hovered over the send button.
There lay the concrete proof of Vincent’s years-long smuggling, money laundering, and connections to key murders.
“Proceed with execution.”
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