After the Don Cheated, I Became His Rival’s Donna

Ethan and I met at a soup kitchen in the slums. We were fighting over half a moldy bread roll.

I only learned his story from other people later.

His father was the head of Lorencio's largest crime family, killed in a bloody power struggle from within. His mother took a payout and vanished.

My father was an accountant for another family. He was framed for cooking the books and shot dead.

Same story, same wound. That was what brought us together.

We clawed our way up from a crumbling slum to the marble halls of the Lorencio crime families, until finally Ethan took his seat as Don of the Valeria Family.

Nine years of marriage. No church. No proposal. Not even a proper cake.

Then one day, out of nowhere, Ethan said he wanted to get me a diamond ring.

"We had no church and no priest when we got married. I've been meaning to do this properly for a long time. And there'll be more to come."

I stared at the custom diamond in the display case, enormous and flawless, and felt something close to happiness.

The sales associate smiled and complimented his taste, mentioning that another couple had just ordered a ring too. They'd walked out minutes ago, planning a proposal for tomorrow.

"Nine years together and still this in love. That's everything."

I reached for his hand. He stepped away, said he needed to take a call.

I hadn't heard his phone ring.

I followed.

Down the hallway, I watched him press a woman against the wall, his mouth on hers. His voice was sharp with jealousy. "You actually agreed to let him propose to you?"

"Break it off. I'll buy you the ring."

I stood frozen. My chest caved in.

Then a pair of hands pulled me into a fitting room alcove. A man's breath was close, warm in the dark. A low voice, almost amused:

"Your husband's sleeping with my fiancée. Why don't we give it a try too?"

The sales associate had been waiting ten minutes for my signature. My palms were sweating, my hand too unsteady to hold the pen. She finally said, gently: "Ma'am, just your signature and it's yours. Right next to your husband's."

Ethan smiled, that easy warm smile, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Moved?"

I said nothing.

He wrapped a hand around my wrist. "Too much, too fast?"

"You've walked through gunfire without flinching. A signature shouldn't be this hard. Treat it like signing a contract. Relax."

His tone was patient. Indulgent. Performed.

All I could think about was the hallway.

We'd survived everything together. Stealing food off the street. Running weapons through the casinos. Fifteen years of living by the blade. At our worst, we were being hunted down by enemies with half a box of bullets between us, and neither of us would load our own clip because we kept trying to give the rounds to the other.

Later, when hitmen came for me, Ethan stormed the docks alone, took two gashes from a knife, and dragged me out anyway.

When he took a bullet running arms and couldn't risk a hospital, I bandaged him in our apartment, my hands shaking the whole time.

He'd bitten down on a towel, eyes red, and told me: "Nobody touches you. Anybody tries, I'll bury their whole family."

Nobody touched me anymore.

But now the person hurting me was him.

The hallway kept replaying. The sales associate smiled and smiled. I couldn't sign.

Eventually Ethan's patience wore thin. His brow tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He was about to say something when his secretary knocked, stepped in, took one look at the room, caught his eye, and said nothing at all. Something shifted in Ethan's face, a quiet understanding, and the coldness dissolved.

"Got it."

He reached over and signed my name for me. I hadn't even asked.

"Here." He handed me the ring box. "Take this home, get some rest. There's trouble with the family, and I have to go deal with it. I'll have someone drive you."

He cupped the back of my head and pressed his lips to my forehead, giving me that look, warm and tender, the one I used to believe.

After he left, I followed him.

His car did go straight to the family's operations building. I let myself exhale.

I was just about to leave when I spotted her.

A blonde woman threw herself into his arms and kissed his neck. He exhaled softly, pulled her in. It was the same woman from the hallway.

I recognized her face. Julie Banks. New liaison officer for the Valeria Family.

Ethan wrapped an arm around her waist. "Miss me?"

Julie pouted and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Of course. You went ring shopping with that old woman and I got jealous."

Ethan laughed under his breath. He walked her back against the table, took her breath away, and murmured: "You're the one who started this. If you hadn't let him buy you a ring, would I be doing this? Don't be angry. I already got you something." He slid a ring off her finger, tossed it aside, and fit a sapphire band onto her hand instead.

That ring was bigger than mine. By a lot.

Julie's eyes lit up and she kissed him.

I watched them tangled together in the family conference room, and a chill ran straight down my spine.

He used to criticize her constantly. At a formal sit-down, in front of the whole crew, he'd dressed her down right in front of the soldiers: sloppy, unprofessional, not ready for the work. Like he was about to fire her.

I'd even thought he was being too hard on her.

Now I understood. He was criticizing her because he had been paying attention to her, never mind that she already had a partner.

I dragged myself home and climbed into the pool to scrub myself clean over and over. The water was ice cold. I threw the diamond ring in the trash.

Ethan called a few times. I didn't pick up.

I opened Julie's social media instead.

The most recent post was a big night at the casino. In the corner of one photo, a cufflink: platinum, custom-made. I'd had it ordered for Ethan's birthday myself. I'd know it anywhere.

I scrolled back three months. Her birthday. She'd been out of town running an arms delivery, but someone had flown a helicopter out just to bring her a cake.

I tightened my grip on the phone.

That day, I'd been hunted by a rival family because Ethan had moved in on their territory. I called him. He told me he was busy.

Turns out he really was busy. Celebrating her birthday.

My eyes burned.

Ethan came up behind me, smelling like her perfume. His lips brushed my cheek. "Why aren't you wearing the ring?"

I said nothing.

He sighed. "Is it too small? Fine, I'll get you a bigger one. Don't be like this. You know your health isn't great, and you should dry your hair properly after a shower."

He picked up the blow dryer and started working through my hair, his fingers grazing my ear.

"Ethan."

"Yeah?"

"You said Julie was unprofessional. Transfer her to Bordertown. It's quieter there, less pressure."

"No."

He said it without a beat of hesitation. Hard and flat. A second later his eyes met my stunned gaze in the mirror, and he softened his tone just slightly.

"She's young. Not like you. She can't handle herself out there. Bordertown's dangerous right now." He stood, straightened his jacket, and walked out. "There's a meeting at the family house tonight. I'll be back late."

The tears I'd been holding fell.

When I'd been sent to Bordertown all those years ago, he was the one who sent me. Said it would be easier out there, a chance to breathe. But for Julie, the rules were different.