Traded to the Don: Now I Rule as Donna

One year ago, Frank Luccasio, the heir to the future Don of Newborough's underworld, saved me when I attempted to commit suicide.

He cleared my school debt, admitted my younger sister, Ariana Romano, into rehab, and hired the best doctors in the world to treat my mom's cancer.

His only request? I had to become his mistress.

I thought Frank was a gift from God—that he was a beam of light illuminating my dark world.

When he got ambushed by assassins, I used my body to block the fragments caused by the explosion for him.

As Frank scooped my blood-drenched form into his arms, he screamed hysterically, "Isabella!"

But… my name was Selena…

After I got admitted into the ICU, the real Isabella Messina returned to Frank's life. Knowing that I was just a replacement, I sensibly left Frank, only to be brought back by force.

Since then, I became a plaything for the both of them. They humiliated and tormented me incessantly while flaunting their love for each other.

Unable to take it anymore, I sent a text to a certain someone and attached a photo to it.

"Don Luccasio, the one giving your son head in the photo happens to be your darling wife, Isabella Messina. Those who betray the family must never be forgiven."

This time, I would be the one sending Frank and Isabella to hell.

I lay in the ICU with various tubes in my nose and mouth, my face bandaged, and my four limbs in casts. I wanted to hurl, but I couldn't move. Every second felt like torture.

"How is she, doctor?"

Just as I thought I couldn't hold on any longer, I finally heard Frank's voice outside the door.

"She's in pretty rough shape, the worst of her injuries being the comminuted fractures she sustained in several places—"

"No, I don't want to hear about that! What I want to know is if her face will recover!" Frank cut the doctor off anxiously.

At his question, the solace that had barely settled in my heart was eclipsed by doubt.

I'd been caught in the blast when I tried to save him from an explosion earlier, the shockwave sending me flying. I got away with multiple fractures and internal bleeding.

It was bad enough that Frank had called me "Isabella" in the ambulance instead of my given name, Selena, but now, he took it up a notch by fussing over my cut-up face rather than the worst of my injuries.

"Isabella? What are you doing here? Where's my dad?" I heard Frank ask.

"Doctor, you're dismissed." A female voice I'd never heard before rang out like an unexpected bell chime. "Frank, I heard you found yourself a cheap double of me since my return to Itaria a year ago. Is that true?"

The woman's words were laced with contempt and mockery. My heart raced as some pieces of the puzzle began to click into place.

"Isabella, you'll always be the only one I hold in my heart. You're all I can think about when she and I are making love. But you're already married to my father.

"What do you expect me to do? Call you 'Mom' and ask you for a kiss like a kid barely out of diapers?"

Frank's reply struck me like a thunderbolt, shattering the last of my dignity. Tears rolled down my cheeks and into my ears.

A year ago, I'd been desperate and on the brink of suicide when the rich and handsome Frank Luccasio saved me.

He punished the thugs who'd tried to force me into prostitution and paid off my student loans. He also paid for my mother's cancer treatment and sent my younger sister into a rehabilitation facility for her drug addiction.

No one cared about me before he came along, let alone protected and looked after me. I once believed he was the only shining light in my life, burning so brightly that he'd chased away the darkness.

Only now did I understand that this beam of light never truly belonged to me.

No wonder Frank's intense love for me came out of nowhere. His gaze was always unfocused when he looked at me, and he'd always regulated my words and behavior.

As it turned out, he was refining me into a better imitation of Isabella, yet I'd stupidly believed he was teaching me the etiquette of fine society.

"That's why we should go back to your apartment and stay put there before the old fart comes home. He's almost 70! I've practically been a widow for a whole year!" Isabella's voice, thick with desire and complaint, came through the gap in the door.

The heart monitor beeped frantically, alerting the doctor and nurses, who rushed in to revive me with defibrillation.

"Mr. Luccasio, Ms. Romano will have to undergo a high-risk surgery. Her next-of-kin may have to sign a consent and waiver at any point during the surgery," I heard my attending physician anxiously inform Frank.

Frank, who'd been worried about me at least up until a moment ago, paused for a second before replying in bewilderment, "I'm not her next-of-kin. Have her mom or younger sister sign it instead."

"But her mother's still in chemotherapy, and her younger sister is in drug rehab."

There was a beat of silence, as if Frank was hesitating for my sake.

"I know you're worried about her because she saved your life, Frank, but you sponsored her plenty before this and took care of her family. As far as our family's rules go, you've repaid the life debt you owed her," Isabella advised softly.

"Besides, it's been a year since we last saw each other. Don't let an outsider get in the way of us catching up, okay?"

"Doctor, sign the paperwork on my behalf," Frank said.

Upon hearing his decision, I realized how foolish I'd been to hope.

The beam of light that never belonged to me left alongside faded footsteps, and darkness returned to my world.

I was wheeled into the operating room alone and underwent seven surgeries in three days. I survived them all through sheer will alone.

Frank didn't visit me once while I lay in the hospital. He didn't so much as call.

In the dead of the night, I pulled up his Instagram profile and discovered that he'd deleted all our pictures. Now that the real Isabella had returned, the memories he shared with a cheap double like me were nothing but a waste of space.

I bit my lower lip until a coppery tang gradually filled my mouth. No painkiller was strong enough to numb my heartache.

My phone slid out of my hand. I took a deep breath and told myself it was time to let go.

If Frank hadn't appeared all those years ago, I might have taken my own life. Now that I'd saved him from an explosion, we were even. He'd sponsored my family and me, and I'd repaid him with my body and soul. The scores were settled.

So when I was strong enough to move around with crutches, I called a number I hadn't dialed for an entire month.