All Chapters of When the Don Begged: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

I stood frozen in the doorway, Roman on my shoulder and Matteo clutching my hand, dressed in the demure clothes Carmen had chosen for me.Donatello’s aunt had taken charge of our household after his mother’s death. At sixteen, I had supposedly been too young to manage an estate as vast as the Rossi mansion, so Carmen had stayed on, ruling the servants and the household with an iron hand. The staff answered to her, not me. Most treated me as though I were an inconvenient piece of furniture.Her arched brows and disapproving gaze always conveyed the same message.You are not good enough.Yet I had been good enough to bear Donatello two sons in three years.Carmen dressed exclusively in black and seemed determined to make me look like a nun. When I had timidly protested against one of her choices, she had sniffed.“This is how a Mafia wife should present herself.”I had appealed to Donatello, hoping he might allow me some say in my own appearance.“Carmen knows how a Mafia wife should co

MariaAt sixteen, I had become engaged to Donatello Rossi, the son of the man my father had died saving. The Rossi family controlled Chicago, and no one dared challenge their decisions—not even when the bride was a minor.My father, Lorenzo Orsini, had been Vittorio Rossi’s Capo and closest friend. He died during a surprise attack by a rival Mafia family, shielding the old Don when survival seemed impossible.Overnight, my mother and I were left alone.At my father’s funeral, Vittorio held my mother’s hand, his deep-set eyes red-rimmed.“Don't worry, Lucia. We will look after you. Maria will become my son Donatello’s bride.”A promise made in grief became a marriage arranged in duty.At our engagement ceremony, I gazed at Donatello with undisguised wonder. Twelve years older than me, he was already a formidable man, his handsome face dark and unreadable.He barely looked at me as he slipped the ring onto my finger.Later, when we stepped outside, he finally addressed me.“Remember, gi

DonatelloIn that unguarded moment, he felt a frisson of guilt that caught him off guard.He knew she was thinking of Belinda, who had come to him and complained, “Donatello, I have been wearing the same gowns over and over again.”Belinda had been at his side at every function for the last three years, ever since Matteo was born. As her Boss, he had obliged her, asking her to get a new gown. It had made perfect sense to him.Now a faint stirring of guilt arose, but he rebuked himself.After all, he had not gone out and bought clothes for his assistant himself; he had given her his card and asked her to get one when she smiled and pouted prettily. He argued with himself; he was not unfaithful. Now, frowning, he thought of how Belinda let her hand linger on his longer than needed…What no one knew was that he hadn't felt the need for another woman in his arms since he had wed Maria. The only woman he wanted to f*ck was his wife, bizarre as it might sound, he thought grimly. But now he

MariaDonatello stared at me, his face hard, blank. But I could sense his disbelief.The furniture had finally begun to talk back, I thought nastily.My heart was pounding, but I refused to let him see it. I had spent too many months learning how to hide fear behind stillness. Tonight I was too tired to roll over and be his f*ck toy.I thought of Belinda Barnes, her hands all over Donatello and sat up straighter. His deep baritone echoed in my head; just a while earlier, Donatello had dismissed me as being a burden, just a debt.It stung. So I raised my head, jutted my chin out, and glared back at him.I knew that he had never seen this side of me. I always played the Submissive, Obedient wife.But tonight, I was too weary. Or angry. Maybe both.No husband, I thought firmly, I have some self-respect left.I did not realise that the sheet had tightened around my chest, framing my full breasts.“You don't get to walk in here whenever you please,” I whispered, warming up to my new avatar