Is Don'S Wife In 'Done Being The Don' Based On A Real Person?

"....do you Mr Amber take Miss Lexy to be your wedded wife till the end of time?" I waited for a response, I was supposed to be standing in front of my husband to be, waiting for him to say yes and then get wedded to him for the rest of my miserable life,but guess what? It wasn't My husband to be in front of me, it was his best friend holding up his phone! My husband to be claimed he had important things to do and so he wouldn't make it hear in person! And so,he decided to do a voice -not video call!! "Yeah sure whatever", he said immediately and hung the phone. I paused first... realizing what just happened. And then the conclusion was done. I was doomed! ********* Being forced to marry a well feared and known gangster is bad, but not knowing who you're married to is worse! Lexy finds herself being forced to become the wife of a well known serial killer and Don of all Don's. She finds herself trapped in all angles as she realizes that she can't leave this marriage until one of them is dead, and she gladly puts herself on the front line to die first than spend her entire life with blood and guns all over again like her previous life. But her Don doesn't give up on her anytime soon no matter how infuriating she was and keeps his vow he made to her mother. Allowing herself to finally submit, she realizes her life is about to destroy ten times more than how it was before. Will she finally break from his charm over her, or will she stay and fight with the most feared gangster in the world, the Don of all Dons

After my younger sister went abroad, I married the mafia Don in her place. Five years after we married, we became each other’s greatest enemies. He hated me for driving my sister away and scheming my way into becoming his wife. I hated him for always treating me as a stand-in, never once acknowledging me in front of the world. My lack of status brought humiliation to my vain parents, and from that moment on, their love for me turned into hatred. In the end, he and my parents left me behind on a snowy mountain while celebrating Christmas with my sister. In the bitter cold, I died together with the child I never got to meet. Meanwhile, my sister basked in everyone’s love and had the happiest Christmas of her life. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day my sister returned from abroad. This time, I would not beg Gideon or my parents to love me ever again.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. You just walked out of Boston City Hall looking absolutely radiant. Any special occasion to celebrate?" "I'm getting divorced." "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind telling me what happened?" "He's been bedding his late right-hand man's sister. In my art studio, on my yacht, across my private study desk, and even on the grand piano in our living room. He thought I didn't know." "I can't imagine how much this hurts. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Where are you heading now?" "The hospital. Prenatal checkup." ... The interview went viral within hours for her calm, unflinching recounting of the betrayal and the shocking contrast between her glamorous mafia wife identity and her devastating situation. It didn't take long for netizens to dig out my identity, and the entire world now knows the woman in that video is me. Elena, Donna of the Moretti family. Three years ago, Vincenzo Moretti, the undisputed Don who ruled Boston's underworld with an iron fist, threw me a wedding that made headlines across the nation. Back then, everyone envied me, calling me the luckiest woman alive. But now? That interview had been online for nearly two days, and Vincenzo was still lost in his little love nest. By the time Vincenzo finally bothered to watch the video his men had forwarded to him, I was already in New Zealand. The whole world knew I was leaving Vincenzo Moretti. He was the last person on earth to find out.

For eight years, I was Vincent Capelli's wife, his right hand, and the only person who ever saw the man beneath the Don's cold mask. Then he got drunk at a negotiation, and slept with his secretary. He called me first, voice shaking with guilt. "Bella, I made a mistake. I paid her off. She'll never come back." I believed him. Six months later, he was ambushed in Miami. His secretary drove through a hail of bullets to save him. And she was three months pregnant. When she gave birth to twin boys, the whole Capelli family celebrated. Framed for stealing the family heirloom, I asked for a divorce. Vincent, desperate to keep me, dared me to drink a bottle of 150-proof spirit. He thought I'd never do it. I reached for the bottle. He stopped me, and gave me all the freedom I wanted. "Come back when you're done running," he said. I left and never looked back. Until the night three killers cornered me in an alley.

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

I had just suffered a miscarriage. With trembling fingers, I called my husband, only to hear the sounds of a rowdy party on the other end. "Don, this was supposed to be your anniversary gift for your wife," a voice teased amidst the cheers. "Giving it to Miss Lena instead—aren't you afraid your lady will throw a fit?" Vincent's voice was deep and dismissive. "Lena's brother died saving my life. I owe her. As for Isabella... she's gentle. She'll understand." He paused, his tone turning colder. "Besides, she came to me with those scandalous rumors surrounding her past. The resources the Corleone family has given her over the years are more than enough to compensate for these little grievances." As blood stained the hem of my skirt, I silently pressed the end-call button. Tears fell uncontrollably. He doesn't know yet—the baby is gone, and I am finally done with him.