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The Don’s Regret Novel Cover

The Don’s Regret

After six years of taking bullets and erasing her identity for a cold mafia don, a devoted wife realizes her devotion was one-sided. When a bomb countdown forces a final choice, her husband abandons her to save his sister, Sophia. Surviving the betrayal, she decides to stop playing the victim. She serves him divorce papers and vows to destroy the man she once loved. This romance and action story follows her quest to drag his empire into the abyss.
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Chapter 4

That afternoon, after returning to the villa, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

When I woke up the next day, a burning pain stabbed straight through my left shoulder. I struggled to sit up and pulled open my silk robe.

The palm-sized Rossi family tattoo on my shoulder had been forcibly cut away at one corner, the edge crudely stitched with silver thread.

Blood rushed to my head. Enduring the pain, I rushed downstairs.

Sophia sat on the living room couch, casually playing with a transparent sealed box. Inside was the piece of tattooed skin, still stained with fresh blood.

She smiled, innocent yet cruel.

“Ella, the Rossi family tattoo is really beautiful. I liked it the moment I saw it, so I had the doctor take a small piece as a keepsake. You won’t be angry, right?”

“A keepsake?” My fingers clenched white. “That tattoo is a symbol of the Rossi family. What right do you have to touch it?”

“What right?” Sophia stood up and walked over while deliberately shaking the box.

“It’s because I’m the most favored young lady of the Corleone family. Also, my brother won’t blame me. You’re just an outsider who married in through an alliance. Don’t tell me you actually think you’re the lady of the Corleone family?”

That sentence lit the fuse.

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the villa.

Sophia covered her cheek and suddenly screamed, “You dare hit me?! Soldati! She has overstepped her rank. Seize her!”

The doors on both sides of the villa were thrown open. Four soldati in black suits rushed in, pressing down on my shoulders and forcing me to my knees.

Sophia said coldly, “According to the family’s punishment for overstepping one’s rank, she shall receive one hundred lashes, as a warning to others.”

The whip had been soaked in cold water, feeling like a branding iron whenever it struck my back. I let out a muffled groan, cold sweat instantly soaking my robe.

“One, two, three…” The soldato’s voice as he counted was cold and mechanical.

Each strike tore through flesh.

When the count reached ninety-nine, Sophia suddenly stepped forward and tapped my knee with the tip of her high heel.

“Make it a nice round number. One hundred. Let her remember who she is. Corleone rules aren’t something she can break.”

When the hundredth lash fell, I spat out a mouthful of blood. My vision blurred, and then everything went black.

When I woke again, I was lying on the bed in the bedroom.

Vincenzo sat on the sofa beside it, a document in his hand.

Seeing that I was awake, he finally spoke.

“I made her hand over the ruby necklace she treasured most. That counts as an apology to you.”

“A necklace?” I propped myself up. The pain in my back made me suck in a sharp breath.

“She cut off my tattoo and whipped me a hundred times, and all she loses is a necklace? Vincenzo, how are you making sense?”

He frowned, impatience creeping into his voice. “You hit her first. The punishment was justified. Ella, don’t push your luck.”

“Justified?”

I grabbed the family dagger from the bedside table, the “self-defense weapon” he had once given me, and smashed it to the floor.

The blade pierced the wood with a shrill sound. “Get out! I’ve had enough!”

Vincenzo’s expression darkened completely. However, he didn’t say anything else and turned to leave the bedroom.

Over the next three days, I gathered everything connected to him—the family badge I once pinned to my chest, the diamond handgun meant for protection, and the jewelry he had given me—and threw them all into the fireplace.

As the flames swallowed them, crackling sounds filled the room, as if mocking the absurdity of my past six years.

Vincenzo returned just in time to see me throw the last family badge into the fire. He rushed over and grabbed my wrist, anger in his voice.

“What are you doing?”

I shook off his hand and looked at the flames, my voice calm and without a trace of emotion.

“Your family, your power, everything you gave me, I don’t want any of it anymore, including you.”

He stared at me. Emotion flashed in his eyes before being quickly covered by indifference.

The fire in the fireplace gradually died down, leaving behind a pile of black ash. Just like my last attachment to the Corleone family, burned away completely.

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