Donna Farmer Novels & Stories

For twenty-two years, I had been the only daughter of the Falcones. Everyone in the family held me in their hands. Underboss Leon Marchetti took a bullet for me. Consigliere Enzo Ricci stormed into enemy territory just to pull me out. Vice Don Darius Lombardi even swore in front of the Don himself that no matter what happened, I would always be the first person he protected. They spoiled me rotten, made me willful, and convinced me of one thing. No matter who I eventually chose as my fiancé, they would never leave my side. Until six months ago, when the real Falcone heiress, Bianca Falcone, came back to the family. Little by little, their time, their protection, all their care shifted t

When I walked out of the hospital clutching the miscarriage report, dazed and hollow, my husband Enzo called. "Feeling any better? I'll send a car for you. Corinne, you know that as my Donna, you have to follow the family rules. I can't bend them just because of your old stomach issues." "And don't blame Elara. She was only doing what she was told." I answered flatly, "Okay." He laughed. "That's my good girl." What Enzo didn't know was that it wasn't just a stomachache. I'd lost the baby. Three hours earlier, when the pain had become unbearable and I tried to leave, Elara had stopped me: "Ten more minutes, Corinne. You shouldn't put Enzo in a difficult position over something so trivial." En

I arrived at a standalone villa in the Queen's District of Southwold. As the former Donna of the Medicis, I had hidden in Holbeck for ten years. Today, I finally returned here under the name "Ella". I had just set my suitcase down in the entryway and hadn't even caught my breath when the front door was kicked open from the outside. Five women barged in aggressively. Leading them was Giovanna Valery, my future daughter-in-law, whom I had only seen in photos.

"Consigliere, I want a divorce from Cassius. I’m handing back all the businesses under my name. Draft up the papers." The old Consigliere frowned. "Camilla, this marriage keeps the peace between our two families. Can you think this over?" I was the frontwoman for Cassius Marino’s dirty empire for three years. In the shadows, I was this cold-blooded Don's legal wife. A month ago, a Mexican cartel kidnapped me. That night, the cartels blew up my husband's secure line, demanding a thirty-million-dollar ransom. He let it ring. They ended up throwing me into an abandoned meat locker in freezing temperatures. I almost froze to death. Luckily, a butcher stumbled in and dragged me out just in time.

Santino's POV Santino stood before the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows, his long fingers drumming restlessly on the mahogany desk. As night fell, his agitation grew. Getting rid of Jessy was just the first step. Now, he had to get back what was truly his. His top aide entered and handed him a top-secret file. "Don, we've found the Donna. She's in Lumina, on the West Coast. She opened an art gallery." He opened the file. The first thing he saw was a telephoto shot.

Some opportunists—fair-weather reeds—suddenly turned their criticism toward the hotel. "What kind of trash hotel is this? How can you judge people by their appearances? Just because the Donna was dressed a little simpler, you saw her as a con artist? She clearly said that she was looking for something her child lost, but you insisted on labeling her as mentally ill and even tried to throw her out!" Paul was scared stiff, with cold sweat pouring down his face. Trembling, he stepped forward to explain, "D-Don Vittorino, this is all a misunderstanding! We thought this lady…"

“Of course not. You always did like giving women symbols after you’d already humiliated them.” Matteo stood. “Did you send her the photo?” Vanessa did not deny it. “She deserved to know what kind of man she married.” “Nothing happened.” “Enough happened.” She crossed the room and touched the empty place on his hand where his signet should have been. “You took this off for me, Matteo. You gave me Donna access. You let me sit beside you in that room. If Elena has any pride, she understood perfectly.” Every word landed because every word was true.

Richard asked. "I can, "Donna said. "Though the Surgeon General is higher in rank than me but I will use my influence as the god of war's fiancee to set the meeting up. But if this works out, you must know that you also owe me a favor in the future." She said. Donna wasn't a type that help liberally. "As long as my father survives from his terrible sickness, I'll do what you want in the future," Ronald said. "I think I still have your old mobile number, I'll call you once I set it up," Donna said arrogantly and stood.

Thrown out. "And the Donna?" My voice is a low growl. "What did she do?" The butler flinches. "The Donna... she just stood there. She watched us take everything. And she didn't say a word." My heart stops. "Nothing?" "Nothing, Boss. She just watched. Then she turned and walked away. Her face was... blank." How could she be calm? Five years ago, a mistress knocked over her palette, and she threw a fit for three days.

“If you cry now, you will ruin your makeup.” “What if someone out there knows me? I used to be a stripper,” Donna whispered harshly. Farah looked mildly irritated with her in that way siblings were when someone was being overdramatic. “They can go fuck themselves.” Donna shook her head. “I won’t be a good Luna. Fuck, I do not even know what a Luna is.” My eyes found hers. Donna’s lips trembled as one tear slipped down. “I am not like you,” she added.