All Chapters of The Don’s Other Woman Was His Real Wife: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

“I understand, Mrs. Vitali. You have my word.”Getting Luca to never see me again was easy. After the ambush all those years ago, Interpol and Europol had put him on a permanent watchlist, a lifetime ban from leaving the European Union. If I got on a plane to Argentina, to Buenos Aires, the Vitali family’s reach could never stretch that far. He’d never find me.Suddenly, an Instagram notification popped up. From Sofia.I tapped it open. There were photos of her and Luca’s stamped, signed marriage certificate and shots of their hands intertwined, the Vitali family crest glinting on a ring on her finger.They had already married, and I had become the other woman.....I was in excruciating pain.But it was also good this way.My leaving would give them exactly what they wanted.I knew Luca better than anyone. He’d never let her post this, not if he wanted to keep it from me. She was rubbing it in my face, plain and simple.The second I backed out of Instagram, a text from Luca popp

On the table in front of us, twenty full bottles of amber whiskey sat lined up.My eyes snapped back to Luca. I searched his face, desperate for a single flicker of protest, a single spark of the care he’d once had for me. But I couldn’t read his expression.In the silence, I couldn’t breathe. I thought of that old estate in the countryside. Back then, he’d drunk himself into a stupor every night, trying to numb the pain of losing his voice, his power, his family. I’d begged him to stop, again and again, but he’d never listened.Until one night, he’d been so drunk he could barely see. He’d shoved three bottles of whiskey in front of me, and typed on his phone.Now even a servant’s daughter thinks she can tell me what to do? Fine. Drink all of this, and I’ll listen.I’d only wanted to save him.So even though I knew I was allergic to alcohol, even though I knew what would happen, I’d picked up the bottle, and drank every drop.Ten minutes later, I was in the emergency room.When I

Sofia’s face crumpled at once.“Luca, she’s still angry with me, isn’t she… I should just go.”She made to turn away, but Luca caught her at once. He fixed me with a hard, displeased frown.“She’s extending a kindness, Isa. You’ve always loved birds, haven’t you? Take it.”The favoritism in his eyes cut through me like a stiletto to the heart.I clenched my fist so tight my nails dug into my palm, drawing blood I didn’t feel. I turned to Luca’s lead bodyguard.“Hold the gauntlet for me. I’m not dressed for it.”A ripple of quiet sneers washed through. Every made man thought me ungrateful, disrespectful.Luca’s face darkened into a thunderous scowl. Convinced I was deliberately humiliating Sofia in front of the family, he slipped an arm around her waist and guided her toward the private inner suite, not a single glance back at me.The vast waterfront hall emptied around me, leaving me alone with the low hum of whispers. I tossed back a full shot of peaty scotch, the burn down my th

Nothing had changed inside. Luca’s gaze swept the room, soft with a quiet nostalgia. “Isa, do you remember when…”“I don’t.” I cut him off flatly, before he could finish the sentence.He nodded toward the stack of weathered books in the corner, the ones I’d read to him for hours on end when he couldn’t speak. “But I remember…”I couldn’t bear to play this fake, hollow game of memories with him.“You had fever every other night back then. Your memories are all mixed up.”I’d thought he loved me, but he’d just needed someone who knew him, someone who could speak for him when he had no voice of his own. The second he’d gotten his voice back, his power back, his crown back, I’d lost every scrap of my use to him.“The piano’s in the music room at the end of the hall. I never touched it.” I turned on my heel and walked out to the balcony, unable to look at the two of them a second longer.I’d truly believed that seven years of blood and fire, of standing between him and death a hundred

Luca slept in a fitful, tormented haze, dragged back to seven years of mute darkness, abandonment and betrayal, only this time, the hand that had always anchored him through the hell was gone.He jolted awake with a ragged gasp of “Isa,” cold sweat soaking through his shirt, dripping down his temples.He fumbled for the light switch, and froze the second the room flooded with white light.Every trace of me was gone.My clothes, my jewelry, the worn book I’d read to him through his silent years, every small thing that marked my presence, wiped clean.It was as if I’d never stepped foot in this estate, never existed in his life at all.He stormed out of the bedroom like a man possessed, seizing his lead bodyguard by the collar with a feral roar.“Where the fuck is Isabella?!” The bodyguard held out the black card Luca had given me.“She left, Don. She asked me to give this back. With all respect, you owed her more than any of us can say. My wife passed two days ago; I’m done with this l