A Proper Donna Takes Out the Trash

But Veronica violently wrenched her arm free, tears welling in her eyes. "You promised you would only bring me to this negotiation! Why did you bring Naomi at the last minute? She's the noble Falcone Principessa—she should stay in her ivory tower, not meddle in our business!"

"Since you're choosing her over me, fine! I'll leave! You two can handle the deal yourselves!"

She spun around and ran out in a huff.

"Veronica!"

Adrian panicked and immediately bolted after her.

When he caught up to her and saw her small frame trembling, his anger dissolved. The harsh words on the tip of his tongue morphed into gentle reassurances. "It's okay, it's okay. It wasn't your fault. Don't cry."

The deal collapsed. Adrian's family lost a crucial revenue stream.

With no one else to blame, Adrian directed his fury at me. "You're the Donna. How could you be so careless? You can't even protect a vital piece of equipment?"

I had given everything for this family, only for him to blame me for a mess Veronica had orchestrated.

I didn't bother to defend myself.

The humiliation of the red carpet incident festered, and the whispers of gossip felt like tiny daggers in my heart.

I could endure the psychological torment, but the ache in my chest was a different beast entirely—a sharp, relentless agony.

Seeing my silence, Adrian softened his tone, trying to console me. "I know you're still angry with Veronica, but she's a helpless orphan. It's inevitable she'll make mistakes. Show some tolerance. As the Donna, it's your place to be magnanimous. It makes you look better."

"I'm only saying this for your own good."

He always claimed it was for my own good, yet every action he took was tearing me apart.

Was altering our wedding tattoo also for my own good?

Three years ago, after a street shootout, I rushed to the scene. The block was a warzone. We found Veronica cowering behind a pile of rubble.

She had lost her parents and her home in the crossfire.

Out of sympathy—and a sense of duty as the Donna—I brought her back with me. I sponsored her education, and after she graduated, I arranged for her to become Adrian's assistant.

But Veronica was hopelessly incompetent. She would spill coffee on our associates during negotiations or mix up transaction locations.

Adrian used to complain to me constantly. "That girl you gave me can't do anything right. She's a walking disaster."

And I would always tell him, "She's still new. Give her some time. Don't be so hard on her."

Back then, I thought I was doing a good deed. But my kindness only fueled her arrogance, until she started setting her sights on what was mine.

Adrian sighed, stroking my cheek and studying my haggard expression.

I could only imagine my reflection—pale and ghastly, with dark circles etched under my eyes.