The Donna’s Exit

The next morning, Matteo answered a phone call. His expression shifted. He hung up and walked toward me, looking like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

"Giana... about the seaside villa. There's an issue with the developer. The construction quality is shabby. I've had them choose another property for you."

I set down the cup in my hand and looked at him.

"The Forest Castle. Do you like it? I remember you once said you liked walking in the woods, picking mushrooms. That estate is located in the perfect place." There was a note of compensation in his voice, as if he were trying to soothe me.

I smiled slightly. "Anything is fine. So long as it's from you, I like it."

He visibly relaxed. He sat beside me and took my hand. "For the anniversary dinner, I've had them prepare a forest theme. Just the two of us. Marco Santini, the driver will take you there first. Once I'm done handling matters at the office, I'll come straight over."

I looked at him and nodded. "Okay."

That afternoon, Marco was waiting at the door on time.

I changed into a dress and put on light makeup. Before getting into the car, I turned back to look at the house.

Laughter drifted from the nursery on the second floor.

Marco drove for a long time before arriving at the Forest Castle.

A white dining table had been set up on the lawn. Flowers, candles, champagne—everything was perfectly arranged.

Carlo Vitelli, the butler, led me to my seat and asked if I would like dessert served first.

"No. I'll wait until Matteo arrives."

I sat there, watching the sun slowly sink behind the trees.

The sky shifted from orange-red to deep blue. Four candles had already burned out and been replaced.

My phone remained silent.

I sent him a message: "Are you done?"

No reply.

Eight o'clock. Nine. Ten.

Carlo approached cautiously and asked whether he should serve the dinner first. I shook my head and said no.

At ten-thirty, my phone finally rang.

It was not a message from Matteo.

It was anonymous, but who could it be other than Sienna?

"Still thinking about your anniversary?"

I opened the video she sent.

On the screen, Matteo stood in a brightly lit hall. The room was filled with people. I recognized the faces. They were all core members of the Bellandi family.

He was holding a child in his arms. Sienna stood beside him, holding the other.

Someone was reading aloud, "Eldest son, Luca Bellandi. Eldest daughter, Aria Bellandi. Effective immediately, their names are entered into the family registry as legitimate heirs of the Bellandi bloodline."

In the video, Matteo lifted the two children high. Applause and cheers erupted around him.

He was smiling.

He exchanged a look with Sienna, his eyes full of affection.

Once, he had only looked at me that way. Now that look no longer belonged to me.

Another message appeared beneath the video: "He said once the children are formally acknowledged by the Family, he'll give you a sum of money and send you away. The position of Donna belongs to the children's real mother.

"Surely the Bellandi heirs can't be illegitimate."

I stared at the screen for a long time.

Then my phone vibrated again.

A single-sentence message from Matteo's mother: "The plane is ready. 1:00 a.m."

I turned off my phone and stood.

I left.

His mother's soldati were waiting at the boarding gate. They handed me new identification and a passport.

"Ms. Bellandi, this way."

I accepted the passport. The photograph was mine, but the name was not.

Beyond the boarding gate, the night was thick and endless.

I did not look back.