
The Forgotten Donna: A Second Chance
Chapter 3
The welcome party was held at the Lucchese club in Manhattan. From the outside, it looked like an abandoned theater. Inside, it was filled with New York's most respectable criminals: politicians, lawyers, dock bosses, bankers, and every ally Damian needed to keep his throne.
In five years, he had never thrown a public dinner for me. Serena came home, and he gave her the whole city as an audience.
She entered on Damian's arm, wearing the Lucchese obsidian pendant at her throat. It was the symbol of the Godfather's wife. Five years ago, Damian told me it was too dangerous to wear in public and locked it in a safe. He had never put it on me.
Now it rested against Serena's collarbone.
Whispers moved through the crowd.
"So she's the real one."
"The Godfather kept the wife hidden for five years because he was waiting for the younger Vega daughter."
"We'd better start calling her Mrs. Lucchese."
My parents stood in the middle of the room, smiling with a pride I had never received from them. Years ago, when they tried to brag about my marriage, Damian warned them to stop. They lost face because of me, so they hated me even more. Tonight, Serena was finally giving them the glory they wanted.
Damian raised his glass. "Serena has been away from New York for too long. From tonight on, she remains the jewel of the Vega family and someone the Lucchese Family will protect."
Applause thundered through the club.
Serena took the microphone with tears in her eyes. "The person I want to thank most is my sister. Eve carried so much for me, and she has always been willing to give me the best of everything. Without her, I wouldn't be here today."
Every face turned toward me.
I stood behind a pillar on the second-floor balcony and lifted my glass.
"Welcome home."
The calmer I was, the more disappointed Serena looked.
The gifts came next. My father gave her a yacht. My mother fastened our grandmother's sapphire necklace around her neck, the necklace that should have gone to the eldest daughter.
At last, Damian's underboss wheeled out a black velvet case. Inside was the deed to the San Lorenzo Winery in Tuscany. It was not just a vineyard. It was the cleanest public face of the Lucchese fortune.
Serena threw herself into Damian's arms and cried right on cue.
The room cheered.
When it was my turn, I asked a waiter to bring over a narrow mahogany box.
"A welcome-home gift."
Inside, there should have been a ruby bracelet. It was the first thing Damian had given me after our wedding, and I no longer wanted it.
Serena opened the box in front of everyone.
The bracelet was gone.
On the velvet lay a bloodstained silver bullet, pinned beneath a black card with one sentence written on it: Impostor. Pay what you owe.
The hall went dead silent. Then someone screamed.
Serena stumbled back with a hand on her stomach, her face bone-white. "Eve, why would you scare me like this? I only wanted to come home."
My father slammed his glass down. "Eve! She is your sister!"
My mother rushed in front of Serena, sobbing as if I had put a knife to her throat. "You can't stand that people love her. You can't stand that Damian cares about her, so you had to ruin her night."
I looked at Serena. She was crying in Damian's arms, but for half a second, the corner of her mouth lifted.
I understood.
She didn't just want my place. She wanted to make sure I could never come back from this.
"Someone switched the box," I said.
My voice vanished under the noise.
Damian held Serena close and looked at me as if I were staring down the barrel of his gun.
"Eve, I thought you at least had a line you wouldn't cross."
I tried to explain, but one of the Lucchese guards shoved through the crowd. In the chaos, he moved as if he were protecting Serena, then slammed his shoulder straight into mine.
I fell backward and struck the champagne tower. Glass burst across the floor. A shard opened my calf, and the edge of the table drove into my lower stomach so hard that pain shot up my spine.
Someone gasped. "She's bleeding."
Damian looked back at me.
Only once.
Serena cried against his chest. "Damian, my stomach hurts."
So he turned away, lifted her in his arms, and left. The doctors, guards, and his underboss followed him out.
I slid to the floor, one hand braced against the table leg, while my mother's voice cut through the room.
"Karma. That's what this is."
In my last life, it had been snow.
In this life, it was blood.
As long as Serena was there, they would always leave me behind.