Donna Forte Novels & Stories

My husband, Lucien Moretti, had some last-minute trouble at the docks to deal with, so I had to attend the underground auction alone. I didn't expect to run into my ex, Damon Vesper—the man I was supposed to marry five years ago. The man who chose the woman who put my mother in a coma over me. The moment I raised my paddle for my mother's emerald brooch, he raised his against mine. The room laughed, whispered, sneered. They thought I was the same desperate fool chasing a man who'd never loved me. But I wasn't there for him. I was there for the truth—the truth hidden inside that brooch. The truth that would expose the accident that destroyed my family as the murder it always was. And when his

he said hesitantly. "Have you found Dalia's whereabouts?" Riccardo asked without looking up. Antonio was silent for a few seconds before replying, "Donna—I mean, Ms. Valentino is in Capitolium, but she refuses to see anyone. All our attempts to approach her have been rejected." Riccardo's hands clenched suddenly, crumpling the letter into a ball. "Book a flight. I'm going to Capitolium." "Don Corleone, you can't leave," Antonio cried in alarm. "The family's situation is unstable right now."

This mangy dog was the one chasing me, yet his stupid bitch had the nerve to bark at me. Just as I was about to slice both their tendons, a clear voice called out from the shadows. “Mama!” Cassiano was there. He calmly stubbed out his cigar. His voice left no room for argument. “Aurora. Come here.” That overwhelming sense of security washed over me. I didn’t hesitate. I walked straight to him and melted into his strong, broad chest. “Leo. You listen!” “I am the Donna,” I declared, my voice ringing with absolute power. “My body, my soul... they belong to Cassiano. Now take your pathetic fantasy and get the hell out of my sight. Forever.”

Don Daniels was a man who liked to surround himself with classy and sophisticated women. Dawn had only known the polished and vicious side of women growing up all his life. They might be soft and demure on the outside, but there were also thorns or poisoned barbs behind those pretty smiles. One could never be too careful around women as they have the ability to disarm a man.

They don’t call me the Mafia King for nothing. I’m dressed in my tailor made Tom Ford suit and Cass, well she is wearing a beautiful and classy white pant suit. Her blood red blouse tucked in with her high heels and sunglasses on her face. Her make-up is minimal with a bright red lip. She oozes business and sex appeal. Her suit jacket is draped over her shoulders. Not only is she the first Donna, but she is a CEO of Bristol-Romano International. “I know I have already said this, but you look breathtaking.” She turns her head nonchalantly and smiles at me.

On our third wedding anniversary, Lorenzo Falcone came back from Sicily with a chest of jewels. Without thinking, he slid the chest toward my sister Vella and told her to pick first. I stared, eyes wide, and the disappointment slipped out before I could stop it: "Lorenzo. It's our anniversary. Don't I get to choose first?" He faltered for just a second. Then he said: "Lily, as a Donna, you should know how to be gracious. You can't always act like a little girl." I'd heard that for over twenty years. Since I was a child, the eldest daughter of the family, I'd long learned to step aside. Give up the horse I loved. Give up my grandfather's keepsake. Give up the chance to study abroad. Give up 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

"The weather's perfect today. How about I set up a small table in the garden for you to enjoy the sun while having some snacks?" Donna suggested. Donna took a deep breath. She knew that standing up for Rita did not amount to much; it was just a momentary satisfaction. After all, Rita had been through such situations countless times over the years. It was better to get Rita away from Karen and Sadie, so that her appetite would not be ruined at the sight of them.

But hearing praise from both of them warmed my heart. Leon put down his spoon. He looked at Adrian. "Did Dona contact you?" Leon asked suddenly. Adrian frowned. "Dona?" "Margaret said Dona contacted my office, looking for you." I looked at Adrian. "Who's Dona?" Adrian and Leon exchanged glances. "Dona is our former mistress before you. She's beautiful, ambitious, and knows how to manipulate. She made us break up a few times. But in the end, she just left."

Jenna smiled and shook her hand, instantly frowning. “What are you doing?” She asked Donna, trying her best to not attract attention from onlookers. Donna’s voice was low with a wicked grin. “Smile Jen, if I break your little fingers, no one will know. Can't you handle a hand fight?” Jenna smiled back, “of course.” Putting herself together, she pressed Donna's hand so hard that she could hear cracking sounds from Donna's fingers. Donna broke out in cold sweats. This Jenna was stronger than the old one. She might need backup at times but she wasn't defenseless.