Chapter 1

Elena's POV

Paolo Moretti, Stefano Conti's Consigliere, spotted me in the doorway. All at once, his face lit up. "Elena, look on the bright side. You gave Don Conti two whole days of peace."

Martina Rizzo looked over with a knowing smile.

"Elena, you really need to learn your place. You're nothing but a pet the Don keeps around. What makes you think you can pick a fight with him? You'd be better off keeping him happy."

I walked over, dumped everything from the box onto the table, and said, "Every gift you've given me over the past seven years is right here. Who knew the great Don Conti had a thing for giving people knockoffs?"

Martina winced when she saw the bluefin tuna buried beneath the pile.

"Elena! How could you dump all this junk all over our dinner?" she snapped. " Aren't you afraid the Don's going to chew you out?"

Just then, my boyfriend, Stefano, glanced up. A faint smile played at the corner of his mouth as he asked, "Feeling brave, are we? You're really going to break up with me this time?"

At that, Paolo burst out laughing.

"Seriously, Elena. It took you seven years to figure it out! Every time you went out with Don Conti wearing those knockoffs, I wanted to hide you before anyone noticed. The Don's girlfriend wearing knockoffs? How embarrassing for him!"

Martina cleared the junk off the tuna, then speared a slice with a small fork and held it out to me. "Don't be upset, Elena. Here, have some tuna. The Don personally picked out the most tender cut for me."

I didn't bother responding.

Then, she feigned surprise. "Come on, Elena! Don't be grossed out by it. This is real bluefin tuna! Don Conti bought the whole thing at auction. Sure, your fake junk landed all over it, but at least the tuna is real."

Paolo burst out laughing. Even the nearby staff covered their mouths, struggling to hide their amusement.

Stefano swirled the wine in his glass, making no move to stop Paolo and Martina from mocking me.

I took a deep breath, then fixed my gaze on him. "Stefano, did you deliberately give me fakes, or did your men screw up?"

He scoffed as he continued to swirl his wine.

"A two-million-dollar fish is sitting right here on my table. Do you really think I'd tolerate a subordinate who screwed up?"

A bitter lump rose in my throat. I had given up my place as the Santoro heiress and spent seven years standing by Stefano, only to find out that all those years had been nothing but a joke.

"So, you never thought I was good enough. You never intended to make me your Donna."

He replied indifferently, "Obviously. Not just any woman gets to be my Donna. You kept telling me you were the Santoro heiress. But in all the years we were together, did anyone from the Santoro family ever contact you? So, I gave you what you were worth—fakes."

My chest tightened, and the old wound I'd suffered saving him seemed to ache with it.

"Okay. I understand." I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, then turned to leave. "Stefano, I don't want to be your Donna anymore."

I was going back to my place as the Santoro heiress.