I Stopped Being the Don's Secret Wife and He Fell Apart

Donatello took off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. He shielded her all the way to the corner. Then they got into the black Lincoln and drove off.

That car was supposed to pick me up when the job was done.

The street was still in chaos, and reporters had already surrounded the bell tower.

I had to escape through an underground passage.

The stench of rot clung to me. I felt as wretched as I smelled.

Then I remembered where I'd seen her before.

Donatello kept a photo of the two of them in a red coral frame in his study.

I'd wondered what a frame like that was doing in his austere study.

"It's nothing. Just a keepsake from a friend." He'd shrugged.

By the time I made it back to the estate, Donatello had already run a warm bath. The steam carried a faint scent of rose oil.

He handed me a towel. "Just the way you like it. Your cover was blown today. Once you're done, I'll take you to the safe house."

As he finished, he absently touched his nose and looked out the window. "Gia's just an ordinary girl studying music in Vienna. She actually believes her family is in shipping."

The usually cold, tight-lipped Don was making excuses.

I didn't want to hear any of it. I turned my head away and said nothing.

He stroked my hair and sighed. "I'll wait outside."

But when I came out, Antonio Sella, his second-in-command, was waiting instead.

Antonio was the only other person who knew Donatello and I were married. Whenever Donatello needed a private message delivered during the day, Antonio passed it along.

"The Don has to deal with the fallout from the bell tower shooting and get the press to pull your photo. He told me to take you to the safe house."

In the car, he kept explaining. "The safe house is the family's last stronghold.

"Only the Don, you, and I know where it is.

"Ms. Ricci, I've never seen the Don love anyone this much. He even keeps your relationship secret to protect you."

Love?

Keeping it secret to protect me?

Antonio's words were laughable.

At work, Donatello and I never talked about anything but business. When we went to friends' parties, we took separate cars and arrived at different times. We never even went to weekly Mass together.

His protection always seemed to mean shutting me out of his world completely.

I'd been angry about it. I'd cried about it.

But all he'd ever do was gently wipe the tears off my face and kiss the corner of my mouth. "Carla, this is for your protection."

So when Donatello pulled me close at the door of the safe house and tried to kiss me again, I pushed him away.

I caught an unfamiliar scent of pine resin on him and frowned.

I was about to ask about it when he pulled me through the door. "There's someone I want you to meet."

A figure in a red dress.

My hand went to the gun at my hip. An outsider, in the safe house.

But Donatello caught my wrist.

"Gia is a friend, Carla. I brought her here." He put himself between us. "She needs somewhere safe. Let her stay a while."

Gia greeted me warmly.

The strong scent of pine resin washed over me.

In that instant, I knew who Donatello had really left the estate for.

"You're here. Donatello and I have been waiting a long time..."

"A long time?" I cut her off and turned to Donatello. "Antonio said you were handling the press."

Donatello touched his nose and casually took the placemat from Gia's hands. "Gia was shaken up after the shooting. I took her to the hospital to get a prescription for something to calm her down."

He looked relaxed, as if he had everything under control.

But in Sicily, where rival families were always at war, being identified was a death sentence for an assassin. The Vicari family's enemies would use those photos to find me in no time!

The hair on the back of my neck was already standing on end.

That was instinct.

And instinct was what kept an assassin alive.

"I need to leave the country for a while. Can you get me a passport by tomorrow?" My body had gone stiff, and my voice came out rough.

But Donatello didn't notice. He had his back to me as he searched the wine cabinet.

"You don't need to leave the country. It's safe here. Nobody will know you're in this house."

Gia stood up and took his arm. "I think a Bordeaux would go best with dinner tonight."

Donatello shook his head and reached for the Chardonnay on the top shelf. "Carla only likes white. We'll have this."

Then he turned back to me. "Don't worry. There's no way an outsider can get in here."

No way?

I looked at the red dress in front of me.

An outsider had already walked into the safest place we had.

And what frightened me more was that Donatello didn't care at all.

He didn't care that she was in here.

He didn't care what could happen to me.

He didn't care that he smelled of pine resin.

I didn't say anything. I turned away and messaged Luca Moretti, a smuggler I knew.

"How fast can you get me a fake identity and passport?"

The reply came right away. "A week."