Who Plays Don'S Wife In 'Done Being The Don'?

"....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

Vittoria Guerra was raised to rule. Born into the Cosa Nostra, she was groomed as an heir, not a daughter. Trained to read people with deadly precision, Vittoria sees what others miss—lies, weakness, intention. Power is the only certainty she trusts. When an unexpected betrayal pulls her into the hands of the ’Ndrangheta, Vittoria finds herself trapped inside enemy territory where alliances are currency and survival demands sacrifice. What begins as a strategic arrangement quickly becomes something far more dangerous. In a world ruled by blood and ambition, trust is a risk and emotion is a liability. The Don’s Daughter is a dark mafia romance about legacy, control, and a woman who was raised as a weapon in a game where every move has a cost.

Valentina Moretti is the Don the Italian Mafia. Smart and formidable, surviving a male dominated environment, overcoming tremendous challenges. Trained from a young age to be a deadly assassin, she commands respect wherever she goes. She seemingly has everything, until her father decides to arrange her marriage. Luca Delgado is the head of the American Mafia. He is a ruthless and cold individual. He understands the rules of the game perfectly and will do anything to achieve victory, including breaking others without hesitation. Their forced marriage is a cruel twist of fate. Will these two ruthless individuals find comfort in one another, or will they end up destroying each other? "I don’t remember agreeing to play strip poker," she remarked. Her lips formed a slight frown, but her eyes sparkled with playfulness. She realized she couldn't outmatch me in this game. "Are you giving up? Are you a coward? " I taunted, aiming to provoke her. Her lips quivered before she pressed them firmly together. The richness of her eye color intensified as she offered a sly grin. She began shuffling cards and removed one of her sandals. Great. We’re taking the long route. She held it up, letting it dangle from her finger before casually tossing it aside. She raised an eyebrow at me, clearly challenging me. I was pleased to know I had touched a nerve. Just as I expected. BE AWARE: Trigger warnings: MATURE CONTENT 18+ (SMUT) SWEARING SELF HARM/SUICIDE (REFERENCES) LANGUAGE THAT IS UNAMBIGUOUS CURSING VIOLENCE, GUN VIOLENCE SELF-INFLICTED HARM /SUICIDE (REFERENCES) BLOOD, DECEASE, and GORE

"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.

His gun-roughened hands burned against my waist, every breath laced with the cold, unyielding possession that had made him the most feared Cosa Nostra Don in all of Sicily. A shrill ring sliced through the haze. He answered in guttural Sicilian. It was the dialect I’d learned years ago to fit into his world, so I caught every word. His consigliere was screaming down the line at him for filing a valid, legally binding marriage license with Sofia Lombardi, the woman who’d abandoned him when a bomb left him mute for seven years. Luca’s order was cold as a trigger pull. “Secure the original license in the family vault. Draw up a forged, null-and-void marriage license for Isa to keep her compliant.” In the eyes of the law, of his entire crew, I was nothing but his mistress. After seven years of laying down my life for him, I’d been reduced to nothing but his mistress. Another call flashed. Luca turned to me, the lie already shaping his mouth. “Family matters. The guards will see you home.” Without a word, I stepped out into the Palermo night, my hands shaking as I dialed his mother, Anna Vitali. “I’ll take your fifty million euros. I’ll leave Luca. For good.” Anna once said Luca and I were worlds apart. I had to admit she was right. This time, I want to leave with dignity.