The Donna's Last Intel

I sometimes wonder if there's a limit to a person's self-debasement. I'm a prime example.

All those years ago, for a man who simply held an umbrella for me in the rain, I threw away an Ivy League education and a clean future, diving headfirst into a dark world I could never wash clean.

The Vincenzo back then wasn't the ruthless man he is today.

He would play jazz for me all night by the Hudson, get down on one knee, and swear I was the only thing he believed in.

The family elders looked down on me at first, mocking my humble origins and my ignorance of the underworld's rules.

Without a word, Vincenzo slapped a loaded Beretta on the table.

He even endured a whipping from the old Don that left him bloody and raw, but he never backed down.

I believed in those sincere, grey eyes.

To help him clean house within the family, I gambled with my career, single-handedly building the impregnable intelligence network we have today.

But all it took was one pout from Amelia, and he never chose me.

I'd confronted him more than once, asking why he crossed so many lines for Amelia.

He would just pin me beneath him, his fingers tracing the line of my spine.

"Jealous? Bella, I gave you entire docks when I was winning you over."

"Amelia and I have known each other for years. Is it too much to want to see her smile?"

In that moment, I understood.

Once he'd caught me, I went from his prey to his trophy. Something to be mounted on a wall for display, left to gather dust.

Tonight was the quarterly meeting of the family's inner circle.

As usual, I walked toward the seat reserved for the Donna, right next to the Don, but Vincenzo's hand landed on the back of the chair.

He didn't look at me. Instead, he turned to a timid-looking Amelia and waved her over.

"Amelia, come here. Sit."

"Donna, Vince said I could listen in on business matters. You don't mind, do you?"

She stared at the intelligence master key in my hand, her eyes full of greed and defiance.

I knew Vincenzo spoiled her.

But I never imagined he'd let her trample on the family's rules, on my dignity.

The meeting room fell silent. I looked at the man at the head of the table.

Vincenzo smiled nonchalantly and guided Amelia into the seat.

"Bella. Don't be so serious." He pointed to the far end of the long table. "You can sit over there for now."

Everyone knew that was the seat for new recruits.

I gave a self-mocking smile, said nothing, and walked over.

Throughout the meeting, Vincenzo listened intently as Amelia spouted her childish, laughable theories about my operations, letting out a low chuckle from time to time.

I once believed that indulgent gaze was reserved for me and me alone.

And for the first time, I was invisible at a family meeting.

Midway through, Amelia petulantly swirled her wine glass.

"Vince, I'd like some of that estate red."

Vincenzo raised an eyebrow, his gaze shooting across the long table and landing squarely on me.

"Isabella. The bottle behind you. Go pour some for Amelia."

I froze. He was telling his wife, the family's Donna, the city's Safety Officer, to pour wine for an outsider?

The Capos around me, who once treated me with the utmost respect, were now whispering amongst themselves.

"Looks like the winds are changing in the De Luca family."

"What's a Donna? If it makes Amelia happy, she's just a glorified waitress."

"I'd say it's not just the Donna title. That Intelligence Officer position will be the girl's sooner or later."

Vincenzo watched me with a raised eyebrow, as if expecting my obedience.

"What are you waiting for? You're the closest. Just help her out."

He winked at me. "Don't be so serious, darling."

I fought back the burn in my eyes as I looked at the man I had loved so desperately for so many years.

The classified archives I hadn't yet secured were my only leverage. I had no choice but to stand, pick up the decanter, and walk over to Amelia.

The scarlet liquid poured into the glass, like blood.

Amelia took the glass, her fingertips deliberately brushing the back of my hand. She then glanced at Vincenzo, as if seeking his approval.

"See? I told you the Donna is a very kind woman. She's even pouring my wine herself."

Vincenzo smiled, satisfied. He wrapped an arm around my waist and placed a kiss on my forehead.

I set down the decanter, the nauseating, suffocating feeling making me want to flee.

"I'm going to the restroom."

Before Vincenzo could respond, I turned and walked briskly out of the meeting room, shutting the door on the absurdity within.

I ducked into the lounge, locked the door, and sagged against the cold marble wall, gasping for air.

My heart ached as if it were being squeezed by a merciless hand.

Just then, the encrypted satellite phone vibrated.

The screen lit up with an anonymous audio file.

As if in a trance, I pressed play.

"Vince! I typed the code randomly! I didn't expect the network to crash... That massacre could have been avoided..."

"I didn't mean to! I just wanted to see Isabella look stupid! Vince, you have to help me, the family elders will kill me..."

Amelia's voice was panicked. After a few seconds of static, Vincenzo's voice came through.

The voice I knew so well was still gentle, but now it was terrifyingly unfamiliar.

"Shh, don't cry, Mia."

"Here is a fund transfer to a Swiss account and a new identity. Go lay low for a while. I'll clean up the rest."

"As for Isabella… it's fine. Let her take the heat. She's tough, she can handle it."

The audio cut off.

The phone slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.

The file was dated three years ago. The day the docks ran red with blood.

It wasn't a system malfunction at all. Amelia was the culprit.

And my husband, to protect his childhood friend, had personally branded me as incompetent.