The Don's Favorite lover Vanished (by Melissa Z) novel Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The moment I finished zipping the last bag, a violent crash echoed through the safe house as the door was kicked off its hinges, splintering wood scattering across the floor.

In the doorway stood Vincenzo, a figure cloaked in menace, his bloodshot eyes ablaze with fury that seemed to radiate from him like heat from a fire.

“Found you,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, laced with a dangerous edge that sent a shiver down my spine.

Instinctively, my hand moved toward my gun, but his reflexes were quicker—always quicker.

In just three long strides, he closed the distance between us, and before I could react, he slammed me against the wall. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, and his grip on my wrist felt like an iron vice—unyielding and suffocating.

“Where did you think you could run?” he snarled, his hot breath washing over my face, a toxic mix of whiskey and raw anger that made my stomach churn.

Panic surged within me as I struggled against his hold, but it was futile; he had me pinned, and I could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on me.

Yet, in the depths of his rage, I noticed a flicker of something else—something almost broken.

“I’ve been looking for you all night,” he admitted, his forehead resting against mine, the roughness of his voice betraying an exhaustion that seemed to seep into the very air around us. “I thought something happened to you…”

A sharp pang pierced my chest at his words, an unwelcome reminder of the connection we once shared.

But my mind, ever the realist, whispered that this was merely another trap, another game in his twisted playbook.

“Let go of me, Vincenzo,” I demanded, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

“Not until you tell me what the hell you’re doing.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing to do with me?” His cold laugh sent chills down my spine as he gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You are mine, Chiara. Every inch of you has been branded Russo for ten years. You don’t get to decide when it has nothing to do with me.”

“Brands get old. They get replaced.” I held his gaze with fierce determination. “You and your family… you mean nothing to me anymore.”

As the words left my lips, I felt the weight of their venom. They were a poisoned knife, and I knew they struck deep.

CRACK.

His hand flew across my face with such force that I tasted blood on my tongue, the metallic tang a stark reminder of my defiance.

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