From Donna to Doctor： My Second Life Begins

Before I realized it, I’d become the invisible wife standing beside my mafia Don husband, Adrian Kane.

A stay-at-home mom buried in chores while my husband paraded around with his secretary, Viola, ten years younger than me.

“She’s smart,” Adrian said once. “She knows how to help me.”

Tonight marked our tenth anniversary.

I saw an elegant designer dress and a necklace presenting in the living room. For a second, I was happy.

Looks like Adrian finally decided to take me to this year’s annual mafia gathering and introduce me as his Donna.

Turns out the dress and the jewelry was for Viola.

Later that night, I caught Adrian sneaking in with Viola—both drunk, hands all over each other like I didn’t exist.

I just made one phone call. “I will join the Doctors Without Borders program. Send me away.”

Before I married Adrian, I had a future in medicine. But I gave it all up for him.

Now? It was time to choose myself and leave behind everything that was never really mine.

Maeve’s POV

My Don husband had neglected me for ten years. Before I even noticed, I’d become the invisible wife who stayed home, did the chores, while my husband took his secretary to every event—introducing her like she was his equal.

This year, on our tenth anniversary night, a stunning dress and necklace were delivered to the house. I thought, maybe Adrian finally remembered. Maybe this year, he’d take me to the annual mafia ball and introduce me as his Donna.

I tried on the dress. It was a little tight, but I didn’t care. I was happy.

Then Adrian came home. His voice cracked like a whip through the room. “The dress is not for you!”

The smile froze on my lips. “Then… whose is it?”

Adrian let out a breath—exasperated, annoyed. “It’s for Viola. Jesus, can you not start drama in the house for once?”

My throat went dry. I hadn’t started anything. I just—

“I had that tailor work on this for weeks. Now look at it—your bloated body stretched the seams. I can’t even gift it to her anymore. How the hell am I supposed to take her to the annual ball tomorrow?”

I looked down. The dress clung awkwardly to my frame. I initially thought maybe there was a mistake with the size. But no—turns out the mistake was me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, dropping my gaze like a scolded child. “I thought… it was an anniversary gift.”

He laughed—cold, humorless. “Gift? Why would I get you a gift? What exactly have you done to deserve one? All you do is mop the floors and fold laundry.”

His words slammed into me harder than a fist ever could.

For a long moment, I just stared at him—my husband—looked exactly the same as the day we got married. Sharp jaw, cold eyes, always in control. But those eyes no longer held love in them.

I was top of my class before I