The Don Who Couldn’t Keep Me

For four years I was his secretary, and for four years I warmed his bed. I knew everything, from his family business to the secrets he whispered to me at night.

But to him, I was nothing more than a toy he could summon whenever he pleased. The moment his first love, Sofia Costa, flew back into the country, he humiliated me without a second thought.

He kissed her in a Sicilian church, abandoned me on a rain-soaked road with a gash ten inches long on my calf, and later dismissed me with a cold, cutting line. He said I was someone unimportant, someone he could simply ignore.

She waved the tulip plush he'd given her in front of me. "I'm the only one he loves. You were just a stand-in."

While I rebuilt my life in Chicago and finally found some peace, this ruthless Mafia don knelt outside my door, eyes red with emotion.

"Elena, come back to me."

I kicked his hand away with a smile. "Your so-called devotion disgusts me."

When the Valeri Family's personnel office called, I was busy packing up my things in the annex of Valeri Estate.

"Ms. Carter, your request to leave the family has been approved by Don Valeri, but he didn't realize it was you. Do you want me to let him know?"

I paused for a moment, then replied softly, "No, it's fine. Leave it be."

The person on the line pressed on, "Ms. Carter—Elena, you've been his secretary for four years, and you're his most trusted personal assistant. Maybe you should think this over."

I laughed softly. "My father isn't well, so I need to return to Chicago for an arranged marriage. Don't worry, I'll hand everything over properly when I leave in a month."

After hanging up, memories flooded back.

Eight years ago, I got into New York University and became best friends with Luna Valeri, which was how I met her older brother, Cesare Valeri.

After graduation, Luna went abroad to study. I sent my resume to the Valeri Family and became Cesare's secretary, just to see him more often.

At a Family celebration one night, Cesare had been drugged. I was about to call the Family's private doctor when he pressed me against the wall and kissed me. One night of tangled sheets later, he handed me an envelope stuffed with cash.

He said, "Last night was an accident. I have someone I care about, and I won't be responsible for you. Just pretend nothing happened last night."

I mustered my courage and called after him, "I don't want your money. I just want a chance. If she doesn't come back, or... if she does and you're still hung up on her, then I'll leave when the time comes."

He froze for a few seconds, then said, "Suit yourself."

For the next four years, I was his secretary by day and his secret lover by night. Our affair remained hidden and was never spoken of.

That was until the celebration for the Family's recently legitimized business deal. I waited until the early hours, but he never showed. Then I saw the photos forwarded by family members.

It showed Cesare and Sofia Costa kissing under a church arch, and the caption read, [La famiglia è tutto]—"Family comes first".

When I called, Sofia answered, and I heard Cesare's cold voice say, "Just someone unimportant. Ignore it."

At that moment, I knew it was time to exit his life.

I finished packing and was about to leave when I ran into Cesare at the estate gates. He insisted on driving me.

The car was filled with Sofia's favorite things, tulip plushies, and Sicilian candies. When he told me that, I said softly, "You finally got her back, Don Valeri. I'm happy for you."

Halfway through the drive, Sofia called, saying she wanted to stroll along the docks. When I saw the hesitation on his face, I wisely got out of the car.

In the process, one of my suitcases fell. Love letters and the photos I'd secretly taken of him spilled onto the ground. I scrambled to pick everything up.

Cesare didn't say a word and simply drove away.

It was a rainy night, and I couldn't get a ride. The roads were slippery, and I fell, slicing my calf with a wound nearly ten inches long. I lay there for what felt like forever before I could even move. Once the pain subsided, I limped and gritted my teeth, walking four hours back to my apartment.

After tending to my wound, I saw his message.

[Stop obsessing over one person. There are plenty of fish in the sea.]

At dawn, I burned that suitcase downstairs, letting eight years of love turn to ash.