A Donna of My Own Making

Panic flickered in Riccardo's eyes.

"What? That's nonsense! You are the love of my life."

He said it so naturally.

Seeing the change in my expression, he leaned closer, scrutinizing me. Then, as if realizing something, he laughed.

"Ah… my little wildcat is throwing a tantrum again? Just say you want me to comfort you," he teased, moving in for a kiss.

I turned my head instinctively. "Don't touch me!"

Even someone as oblivious as him could sense something was wrong. He straightened slowly, staring at me.

"Lia… you've been off since yesterday…"

A rapid knock at the door cut him off.

"Don… Li… uh, there's trouble up north!"

"Leave! Don't you see the Madre needs me?" he barked at his assistant, though his eyes flickered constantly toward his lit phone.

I spoke coldly, "Go ahead. Don't let it delay your… serious matters."

"There's nothing more important than keeping you calm. Sleep, I'll stay with you."

But once he confirmed I was "asleep," he was gone in a flash.

Two hours later, my phone lit up.

Last time, Lina had sent memories. This time, she sent evidence of what had already happened: photos of Riccardo's scarred, muscular abdomen, and a leather whip on the sheets.

Her voice message was full of triumph.

"Sis… since you got pregnant, he hasn't touched you, right? Afraid of hurting the baby? Well, guess what? I'm pregnant too, and the moment he saw me, he started stripping me. Now he's exhausted and asleep. Oh, and we're naming our child Alexander—the firstborn name set by the Colombo family."

She even sent a photo of their hands intertwined—a tattoo on their wrists: two lilies that only completed the full flower when joined. Below it, in flowing script: 'My beloved Lily.'

At last, I understood. The night of our wedding, when I kissed that line over and over, moved to tears, that flicker of guilt in his eyes—it wasn't for me. For the past three years, every tender "Lily" he whispered had been for another.

I had been living a colossal lie, a cruel joke.

I opened my phone and found the message from someone I hadn't contacted in ages.

[I agree to your proposal. But can you do one thing for me?]

He replied instantly, as if he had been waiting a long time: [Of course, my queen.]