Done Playing His Perfect Donna
Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna.
When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind.
Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse.
When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye.
Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away.
When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over.
And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him.
And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess.
The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!"
I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account."
My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!"
Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack.
Did she really think a little drama would change anything?
I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done.
And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.