The Unacknowledged Donna

The position as the private secretary of Don Aido Derocchi is a proper job that comes with a lavish salary.

That's why everyone is shocked when they find out that I've resigned from that job.

I tell everyone that I want to take my son, Leo Derocchi, to Melbir so that I can collect my husband's personal effects there.

What no one knows is that my so-called husband is actually Aido himself. Leo is the by-product of our one night stand.

That's why Leo and I can't let our true identities be known to the public.

Since the Derocchi family doesn't need me as their Donna, I don't need a man who's not a good husband as well.

Of course, Leo doesn't need a father who doesn't even permit him to call him "papa".

Viola's POV

When I submitted my resignation letter to the secretariat, the staff member looked shocked.

"Viola Conti, you're leaving the Derocchi family?"

The Don's private secretary was a respectable, well-compensated position. He couldn't understand why I would give it up.

"Sì." I smiled and delivered the excuse I'd prepared long ago. "My husband left me an inheritance in Melbir. I'm planning to take my son and live there."

It wasn't a particularly clever excuse. But for seven years, everyone believed I was just a single mother raising a child on my own. No one knew that the "husband" I spoke of was actually the Don of the Derocchi family, Aido Derocchi.

"That's good news. Raising a child alone is difficult." He flipped to the last page of the document and pointed at the signature line.

"But you're the Don's private secretary. You've had access to the main estate's ledgers, guest lists, and several important channels. According to the rules, your resignation and clearance release must be signed by the Don himself."

I nodded and took the document back.

Of course it needed his signature. Without it, even these seven years wouldn't officially be over.

As I walked out of the law firm, I ran into Aido at the end of the corridor. He wore a black suit today, the collar pressed perfectly straight, silver-gray cufflinks fastening his sleeves.

Standing beside him was Isabella Bellucci, the Principessa of the Bellucci family, the woman everyone now assumed would be the future Madre.

She held his arm, her high heels clicking against the marble with a light, steady rhythm. She was beautiful.

When she raised her hand, the diamond bracelet at her wrist caught the light with an expensive gleam. She belonged to this estate, these banquets, these social scenes in a way that seemed natural, effortless.

As for me?

Seven years ago, I was the most unremarkable assistant in the Derocchi family secretariat. Back then, the old Don was gravely ill, and Aido had just taken over family affairs.

Every day felt like walking on a tightrope. I worked late into the night organizing ledgers, verifying lists, helping the family dodge one risk after another. Through my