My Second Life Is the Donna

I instantly slapped Luca's hand away the moment he reached for my face, the sound of the slap carrying clearly to every corner of the room.

In that instant, everyone in the room fell silent, while Luca's gaze darkened noticeably.

I had been extremely afraid of that look in my past life, as it signified another round of punishment later that night. But now, it was all different. I said softly, making sure that Lia heard me, "I wish you and Lia all the happiness in the world, Luca."

I intentionally placed heavy emphasis on the word "happiness" before I turned around, my gaze sweeping over each hypocritical face in the room before finally stopping at the man sitting at the head of the table. It was none other than Vittore Corleone, Luca's father and the Don of the Corleone Famiglia.

Vittore was a 45-year-old man in a tailored dark gray suit, sitting upright. His blond hair was perfectly groomed, and his profound features resembled a classical sculpture. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes, which didn't age him so much as add to his dignified presence.

He remained silent the whole time, quietly savoring the red wine in his glass. The atmosphere of the whole room seemed to revolve around him.

In my past life, Vittore was the last person I saw before I died. He rushed into the hospital ward and tried to get the doctors to resuscitate me, but it was of no use. He stared at my lifeless body on the hospital bed as something inside his ice-blue eyes shattered.

It was only then that I understood that this man of a few words was likely the only person on my side. It was just a shame that the realization came too late.

It wasn't too late now, though. I strode toward the head of the table in my high heels, the clicks against the marble floor resounding through the silent room.

Lia widened her eyes in surprise, while Dad looked as if he wanted to call out to me. However, he ultimately remained silent.

I came to a stop in front of Vittore, who suddenly looked up at me, his expression so neutral that it was impossible to discern his thoughts. I leaned over to whisper into his ear, noting the subtle aroma of cedar and whiskey clinging to him. It felt entirely different from the blatant, aggressive scent Luca gave off.

"You need a successor to the Corleone Famiglia, right, Don Corleone?" I whispered, my lips almost brushing his ear, as I noticed his frame go rigid for a split second. I then continued, "You'd need a legitimate successor, one with the pure blood of a Corleone."

Vittore lightly tapped the rim of the wine glass, and though the movement was subtle, the atmosphere in the room turned ice-cold.

I looked toward Luca, who was still standing naked at the center of the room, glaring at me like he wanted to kill me, and continued, "I mean, your current son doesn't possess any skills besides screwing women during commission meetings."

Vittore finally turned to face me, meeting my gaze head-on. He then, with deliberate slowness, smiled faintly and spoke with a deep, resonant Cisilian accent. "How interesting. Go on, Ms. Rossi."

I straightened my posture and glanced back at Lia, noticing that her triumphant grin was gone, replaced by a look of bewilderment and growing dread. I deliberately raised my voice so that everyone in the room could hear me, saying, "I have nothing more to say. I'd just like to offer my heartfelt blessings to Lia and Mr. Luca."

I paused for a moment, my gaze moving from Luca's sullen face to Lia's pallor and the cold sweat beading on Dad's forehead. I then stated deliberately, "I hope that they'll grow old together."

"Meeting adjourned," Vittore said as he set down his wine glass, his gaze still fixed on me. He rose to his feet, a full head taller than I was, until his shadow fell entirely over me. He then tilted his head slightly and said, "I want you to stay behind, Ms. Rossi."