The Donna's Justice

When I pushed through the main door, covered in blood, I found my amnesiac husband right on top of my best friend.

His arm was wrapped around her waist with practiced ease, and she was passionately reciprocating his advances.

"Ada will be devastated if she finds out…" Camilla said in a sweet voice through bated breaths. "After all, she really thinks you've lost your memories."

Lucio chuckled softly and said in a mocking tone, "It's not my fault she loves me that much. Then again, it's a good thing for me since I can just let her do all the tough and dirty work."

He leaned down and planted a kiss on Camilla's lips, mumbling, "Right now, you're the only one I recognize as my wife. Just wait. Once I sign the deal with the Della Veras, I'll have her kicked out and pass everything she owns to you. After all, I no longer remember a thing."

Only then did it hit me. My husband's amnesia was all an act, a farce to fool me. Moreover, my best friend conspired with him to stab me in the back.

Too bad they didn't know that the Della Vera family, the most feared Mafia family in Ritelle, only acknowledged one person: Me, Ada Rossi.

While I was risking my life fighting for my amnesiac husband, Lucio, he was in bed with my best friend.

Turns out, his memory loss was nothing but a carefully crafted lie: One aimed at me.

Three months ago, Lucio supposedly lost his memory in an explosion. As a result, he forgot our marriage, and me.

To protect his position as the Don, I stepped up, taking on the most dangerous, most suicidal deals: the kind even his most loyal men wouldn't touch.

In the first month, I cleared out a drug lord's base in Barimo's old district.

I came home with a bullet still lodged in my shoulder blade, and what did I get? Lucio wrinkled his nose, looking at me like I was filth.

"Smells disgusting."

Camilla comforted me in private.

"He's sick right now, don't take it to heart. But you're always fighting and bleeding like this. It's no wonder he," she trailed off with a sigh.

The second month, I went to Laervo to negotiate with a volatile arms dealer. I got my thigh slashed open. I rushed home, only to find him dining with Camilla.

When Lucio saw me, his face showed nothing but irritation at being interrupted.

Camilla, however, looked concerned.

"You're hurt again! Sit down, quickly. All this blood, sigh. Next time, at least clean up before you come home."

Back then, I thought that she was concerned as my friend.

She offered to look after Lucio while I was out risking my life, so no one else could take advantage of his weakness.

Now I knew what her care meant: Warming my husband's bed.

In the third month, for the sake of a deal, Lucio sent me alone to meet