Robin
I grew up alongside the Don of the Vitale family.
I took a bullet for him and lost the son I was carrying.
I helped move the family’s operations from Sicily to Milan and built the Vitale name into one no one dared look down on.
The day Matteo took over as Don, he kissed me in front of everyone and declared that I would be his one and only Donna for the rest of his life.
For six years, there had never been another woman by his side.
Everyone said Matteo loved me more than anything.
Every summer, he returned to Sicily for a family gathering. I asked to go with him three times, and each time something happened that kept me in Milan.
This year, on the eve of his birthday, I secretly flew to Sicily alone.
I wanted to surprise him.
In the familiar courtyard of the old estate, Matteo was sitting beneath an orange tree with a little boy in his arms.
The boy called him “Papà.”
A woman in a long dress walked toward them carrying a freshly baked tart.
“You come back every year for your birthday just to be with us. Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out?”
Matteo smiled at her.
“No. The family needs her.”
“She’s the Donna of the Vitale family. She knows she has to put the family first. You’re the one waiting for me at home.”
Standing outside the courtyard gate, I suddenly understood.
Matteo had left me to run the family. He had given her a home with him.
And I no longer wanted to put his family first.
So I booked a one-way ticket to Albania for seven days later.