The Donna Left,The Don Went Crazy
I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me.
But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed.
He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating.
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 of the family.
"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."
I didn't argue with him.
I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too."
Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me."
I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years.
Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe.
But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers.
The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."