The Don’s Biggest Regret

"Miss Isabelle, these are the casino accounts for this month. Don Rossi said you have to finish reviewing them tonight."

Sofia smugly tossed a thick stack of ledgers onto my desk.

Without looking up, I said, "Leave them there."

However, she didn't leave. Instead, she took two steps closer, and a familiar scent drifted toward me.

It was Antonio's favorite cedarwood cologne, one I had given to him.

"Oh, right. Don Rossi said he's taking me to tonight's negotiation. Since nobody is waiting for you at home anyway, once you get back to the estate, wash the carpets by hand.

"The red wine you splashed during your last tantrum is still there. Don Rossi said it annoys him every time he sees it."

Unlike before, I didn't glare at her coldly and simply nodded.

"Okay."

She was clearly satisfied with my obedient response and let out a disdainful snort.

"So you've finally learned. And don't forget, even though you used to be the Costa family's principessa, you're still a long way from becoming our don's donna."

The sound of her heels gradually faded away.

Around the room, several family members exchanged glances. Some looked at me with sympathy, while others seemed indignant on my behalf. Yet no one dared to say a word.

Everyone knew that I was Antonio Rossi's fiancée and the future donna of the Rossi family.

However, everyone also knew that the person he truly kept by his side, trusted, and favored was his consigliere, Sofia.

Three months ago, Antonio had poached Sofia from a smaller family and directly appointed her as the family's consigliere, while demoting me.

I had flipped the conference table on the spot.

"Antonio! What do you mean by this?"

Seated at the head of the table, he slowly puffed on his cigar.

"Isabelle, watch your attitude."

"My attitude is fine!" I grabbed a wine glass and hurled it at him.

"That position is mine. You promised it to me!"

The glass grazed past his ear before smashing against the wall, sending shards flying everywhere.

Antonio's face darkened.

"Enough."

"Not enough!" I screamed.

"I fell out with my family because of you. I gave up my claim to the Costa inheritance. How many messes have I cleaned up for you over the years? And now you're letting this b*tch stand over me?"

Sofia flinched and moved behind Antonio, who took her hand and patted it reassuringly.

That single gesture completely ignited my anger.

I immediately raised my gun and fired straight at her eye.

At the last second, Antonio pulled her away, and the bullet grazed her cheek before flying past.

He slapped me across the face.

Stars burst across my vision, and tears streamed down uncontrollably from the pain.

For the first time, he didn't wipe away my tears. Instead, he gripped my chin and forced me to look directly at him.

"Isabelle, you're too domineering. What I need is a donna who can support me and tolerate me, not a principessa who's always jealous and constantly causing trouble.

"The Alderney arms operation you've been managing will be handed over to Sofia for now. You're too emotional and aren't suited to handling core business."

At that moment, I genuinely considered leaving, and he noticed.

That very night, he pinned me down on the bed and swallowed all of my accusations with a deep kiss.

"Baby, stop making a scene. Sofia is just a tool. I need the intelligence she provides."

"Then why are you so good to her?"

"It's just an act."

He lightly bit my earlobe. "You're my donna, my only woman."

I believed him because I loved him.

I loved the man who had spent a fortune to buy me a rare blue diamond and said, "Only this is worthy of my principessa."

I loved the fiancé who would always pull me into his arms no matter how dangerous the situation became.

So I kept telling myself that he simply needed an obedient assistant, and that Sofia was nothing more than a tool.

Only I was his most special donna.

That was until I discovered that all of Sofia's so-called intelligence had actually been my work.

And whenever the two of them discussed business late at night in the study, ambiguous moans would always drift out from behind the door.