The Don’s Other Woman Was His Real Wife

His gun-roughened hands burned against my waist, every breath laced with the cold, unyielding possession that had made him the most feared Cosa Nostra Don in all of Sicily.

A shrill ring sliced through the haze.

He answered in guttural Sicilian.

It was the dialect I’d learned years ago to fit into his world, so I caught every word.

His consigliere was screaming down the line at him for filing a valid, legally binding marriage license with Sofia Lombardi, the woman who’d abandoned him when a bomb left him mute for seven years.

Luca’s order was cold as a trigger pull.

“Secure the original license in the family vault. Draw up a forged, null-and-void marriage license for Isa to keep her compliant.”

In the eyes of the law, of his entire crew, I was nothing but his mistress.

After seven years of laying down my life for him, I’d been reduced to nothing but his mistress.

Another call flashed.

Luca turned to me, the lie already shaping his mouth.

“Family matters. The guards will see you home.”

Without a word, I stepped out into the Palermo night, my hands shaking as I dialed his mother, Anna Vitali.

“I’ll take your fifty million euros. I’ll leave Luca. For good.”

Anna once said Luca and I were worlds apart.

I had to admit she was right.

This time, I want to leave with dignity.

Luca Vitali was the sole heir to the Vitali Cosa Nostra Family. And me? Isabella Berti. Just the daughter of the Family’s head steward.

I was twelve when I followed my mother through the gates of the Vitali family’s coastal compound, and first saw Luca in the sun, firing a 9mm at targets down the cliffside.

He turned his head, and his face was that of a fallen angel, straight out of the old Sicilian legends.

In that single glance, the name Luca Vitali was burned into my bones.

I never spoke a word of the love I hid in my chest.

Not just because of the chasm between our stations, but because I knew Luca’s heart already belonged to someone else.

Sofia Lombardi.

His childhood sweetheart, the only daughter of the Lombardi crime family.

He never hid how he doted on her, shielded her from every drop of blood and every bitter feud that came with the life.

When we were eighteen, a rival family set an ambush.

Luca threw himself over Sofia, took the full force of the car bomb blast.

Shrapnel tore through his throat, shredded his vocal cords, left him completely mute.

But in the darkest days of his life, Sofia never set foot in the Vitali estate again.

Instead, she ran off with the heir of the very family that had ordered the hit.

The Vitali family was tearing itself apart then.

Rival capos circled like vultures, waiting for the mute heir to fall.

The Family’s ruling Commission shipped him off to a derelict estate deep in the Sicilian countryside, and left him