Donna Forte Novels & Stories

Nalaglag ang balikat ng kasamahan namin pero mabilis din itong nakabawi. "Ayos lang, may apat pa naman." "That's the spirit, girl," biro ko dito. "Pero sino kayang maswerteng babeng 'yon? Anong pinainom na gatas sa kanya noong baby pa s'ya? Ba't ang swerte n'ya?" Himutok naman ni Donna. "Si Siete pa naman ang bet ko sa magkakapatid. Big, brooding and very bad. Rawr!"

I was hurled onto the floor, struggling desperately as I tried to crawl back. Donna approached and assumed a crouching position to observe me. She was dressed in a Chanel outfit with her hair meticulously styled and a brand-new manicure. She appeared to be a socialite who had just finished playing bridge at the country club, but her eyes were devoid of warmth. She spoke in a very light tone, as if she were discussing a trivial matter. "You little tramp! You really thought you could wreck my son's Famiglia, huh? Did you think you could just walk out on the DeLuca Famiglia, Lina?"

Sonnia was totally defenseless against such a face that looked like the male lead of a romantic book, so she got butterflies in her stomach, feeling a burning sensation in her slapped butt, she tried to avoid meeting Dona's gaze. Dona was Sonnia's worst enemy in Michel Corporation, for she took liberties with Sonnia whenever they met. The two parties were locked in confrontation on their way up to the top floor. Dona and Lily were cut from the same cloth, but the difference here was that Lily was simply playing pretend, when it was time to actually step up to the plate, she was useless. After all, her fiancee kept his eyes on her. On the other hand, Dona was the real deal. Regardless of male

With a shake of her head, she turned and went to open the door. "Did you think you could hide from me?" Donna breezed in past Blake who held her cup away from her body not to spill the hot liquid on her. "Not answering your phone doesn't mean that I won't come over here and talk to you." She turned, waving her phone at Blake. "Where is your phone? Have you been writing? Tell me that's why you haven't been answering my calls. That's the only acceptable answer." Donna turned again and walked to Blake's kitchen, she pulled a mug out of the cupboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. "You know, if you ignore me, I'm just going to sit here until you say something." Donna sat at her kitchen count

The moment the De Luca security notification appeared on my tablet, I stopped waiting for Matteo. Vanessa Ashford had entered the Donna wing with a clearance level that should have belonged only to me, and Matteo had stood beside her without the De Luca signet he always wore before the family. That was not an accident. That was a choice. I closed the archive window and looked back at the mourning locket under my lamp. Pregnancy had made my hands unsteady lately, but pride kept me from breaking anything in my studio, including myself.

At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the donna, the mistress of the family. Before I could even speak, Alexander glanced at me with casual indifference. "Ivy, don't be so petty." He wiped the corner of his mouth elegantly with a napkin, his tone suggesting this was entirely reasonable. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class."

Sophia's point of view: The governor’s birthday ended at midnight, and the drive home was unbearably quiet. While I sat in silence, trying to enjoy my first big win, I felt uneasy. Something about William didn’t feel right. He had too many secrets, and I suddenly felt stupid for letting myself trust him. I didn’t say a word. Instead, I picked up my phone and typed in the name Marie had called him—“Victor Falcone.” I combed through the internet, social media, anything I could find. But there was nothing—no pictures, no real information.

Without it, even these seven years wouldn't officially be over. As I walked out of the law firm, I ran into Aido at the end of the corridor. He wore a black suit today, the collar pressed perfectly straight, silver-gray cufflinks fastening his sleeves. Standing beside him was Isabella Bellucci, the Principessa of the Bellucci family, the woman everyone now assumed would be the future Madre. She held his arm, her high heels clicking against the marble with a light, steady rhythm. She was beautiful. When she raised her hand, the diamond bracelet at her wrist caught the light with an expensive gleam. She belonged to this estate, these banquets, these social scenes in a way that seemed natural,

The grievance on Sienna's face vanished instantly. "You saw it that day, didn't you?" She lowered her head and smiled at me viciously. "You saw Matteo holding the baby." As she spoke, she took out her phone. "Look. Don't the two of them look exactly like him? Anyone can tell they're father and son. "Giana, don't you think you're pathetic? A hen that can't lay eggs, and you still think you deserve to be Donna? You should hurry and leave on your own. Otherwise, when you're thrown out of the family, it'll be far more humiliating."