Donna Trope Novels & Stories

“Alright, hurry up.” Donna gave her Barbie doll to Tony. “Take care of Elisa for me, Tony. I’ll be right back.” After using the bathroom, Donna fixed her hair and got ready to leave. But she accidentally bumped into someone in the corner and fell down. “Oh no.” Alpha Kilian heard the noise and saw the pretty little girl on the ground. He walked towards her.

Seeing that humans were treated well here may help their new guests feel relaxed. Donna walked out confidently, as always, with a pretty summer sun dress on. She was laughing and talking to April about making a line of women's dance wear. Looking up at the women in front of her, she raised a hand in greeting. She stepped forward and took her usual position in front of the rest of the women. What happened next was so fast, even Rosette nearly missed it. One of the Betas surrounding Cedric's women shot forward toward Donna. He was mid-shift into a large grey wolf when Kyle collided with him.

“Hurry up. She has to be ready before the Don.” The cook, Martha, peeked in at one point. “Mrs. Mancini,” she said softly, “you look beautiful.” The stylist chimed in, “The Don made a splendid choice in his Donna.” The women chuckled together. I only rolled my eyes. Choice wasn’t the word. By the time everything was done, I could barely recognize the reflection staring back at me. I looked elegant, polished, untouchable. But inside, my chest was tight. “Nora, it’s time to go. The ride is here,” Luca called.

The affection in his eyes was so clear that, for a moment, I almost believed that I was his entire world. I lowered my head, trying to hide the bitterness rising in my chest. ‘Elijah, this is the last chance I’m giving you. I hope you don’t disappoint me.’ Just as my resolve softened, I received a message from Naomi Cook that very night. Along with it was a photo of her celebrating her birthday with Elijah and Kai. In the picture, Naomi held up two gift boxes with the Cartier logo, smiling brightly. Her message was smug and provocative. [You’re still not leaving? Your husband and son both like me more. How do you still have the nerve to hold on to the donna position?]

"I've already had the clerk wait in the conference room. Once the marriage certificate is signed, Chiara will be your madre. From now on, choose your words wisely." Matteo took a step forward in disbelief, his voice raising an octave. "What did you just say?" "From now on, she's the Donna." Raffaele said nothing more. He turned and carried me into the car. Before getting in, I cast a glance at Matteo, who remained standing at the bottom of the steps, completely bewildered. At that moment, it felt like all the grievances of my previous life and this one were finally being resolved. I had never dared approach Raffaele in my previous life. It wasn't until he died in an assassination that I real

However, she still smiled and nodded, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You too. Get some rest.” Then she turned and left. Once her figure had disappeared from the doorway, Paul immediately called his aide. “Why is Emily’s number invalid? Has our intelligence system failed, or did the donna disappear and I’m the last to know?” His voice was cold as ice, sending a chill down the aide’s spine. “Don Garcia, actually, on the day you entered surgery, we already received news that Donna Emily had left the country. But during this time, you were…”

I walked into the bridal studio with my wedding gown draped over my arms. Four years as Bianca Marchello—fiancée of Enzo Marchello, heir to the most powerful mafia family in the city—and here I was, asking a seamstress to alter my wedding dress to another woman’s measurements. “Are you sure about the size change?” the seamstress asked gently as she pinned the new bust line—smaller, narrower, perfect for Lucia Ricci. “Yes.” My voice didn’t tremble.

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."

To prove my identity, I took off the faded apron and revealed a black velvet gown embroidered with subtle dark gold rose patterns underneath—the most prestigious pattern in the mafia world. This was a one-of-a-kind custom gown made for the Donna. I thought this would be enough to prove who I was, but Lina merely curled her lips into a sly smile. Covering her mouth dramatically, she exclaimed loudly, "Where'd you dig that rag up? It's in tatters, and you still want to show it off?" Only then did I notice that the hem of the gown had somehow been ripped in several places. Paul barked loudly, "You're just a crazy lady! Get lost right now!"

The day his first love came back, I became a thief of the Moretti family. One word of grievance from her, and I was brought before the Family Council. Her single tear cost me twenty lashes. Lucien took away my ring, my power, and gave everything that was mine to another woman. Later, I finally stopped explaining. Because I knew a man who would never trust me was not worth waiting for. It wasn't until he saw my "body" being carried out that he finally went mad.