My Driver’s Girlfriend Called Me a Freeloader,But I Was the Donna

So all this time, Gemma had believed I was the one mooching rides in Nico's armored car, shamelessly throwing myself at a rising capo who belonged to her.

What a joke.

Gemma turned to the hangers-on lounging through my ruined estate and announced at the top of her lungs:

"You want to know how shameless this tramp really is?"

"She parks herself in my man's car every single day. You literally can't get rid of her!"

"I even left word for her to keep her distance, and she threw a fit and ran to the Feds, claiming he was harassing some low associate."

"So my Nico had to start dropping me at the club first, then double back just to play wheelman for her, all to keep the Family's name clean."

"I have never in my life seen a more shameless piece of trash!"

My eyes went wide.

So that was why Nico had been late fetching me every day.

He'd been slipping off to drive Gemma around first, then circling back for me.

Well played, Nico. Well played.

You want to treat the Donna of the Valente bloodline like a fool? Then don't blame me for what comes next.

I pulled out my phone on the spot and dialed Lorenzo.

"Bring the Consigliere's men to the estate at Peach Blossom. Now—"

Before I could finish, Gemma snatched the phone out of my hand and hurled it against the marble.

"God, you are unbelievable! How can one person be this full of it?"

"Your estate? This is my man's house!"

Her friends piled on, sneering and spitting venom into the smoke-thick air:

"Classic gold-digger. Hasn't even landed the connected guy yet and she's already claiming his property."

"Some women are just born desperate. The second they smell money, they're on their knees begging like dogs. Disgusting."

"Gemma, you're way too soft. If I ran into trash like her, I'd rip her lying mouth right off her face!"

Their words pumped Gemma full of confidence. She grabbed my collar and yanked me close.

"Hear that? Everyone here agrees. You're nothing but trash."

Then her gaze dropped to my throat, and her eyes lit up.

"That jade pendant doesn't look cheap. Let me guess—you spread your legs for some old made man to buy it?"

She seized the chain and ripped it off my neck.

The motion was so fast, so violent, I didn't even have time to react before the necklace was in her hand.

The blood drained from my face. "Give it back!"

My sudden panic only made her smile sharpen. She dangled the pendant just out of reach. "This nervous? Must be worth a fortune."

"It's worthless," I blurted, lunging for it. "But it means everything to me. Give it back. Now."

I grabbed for it, desperate. My hand went to my throat and found only bare skin where the jade had always rested.

That jade pendant was a protective charm my mother had given her life to obtain.

I'd been sickly since birth. When I was four, I lay dying, unconscious and fading, tended in a back room of the family estate while the men who owed us everything stood useless in the halls. The doctors told my father to start making arrangements.

My mother refused to accept it. She made a pilgrimage to pray for me.

To prove the sincerity of her devotion, she set out in the scorching heat of a hundred-degree summer and prostrated herself the entire way, one bow for every step, from the base of the mountain to its peak.

By the time she reached the top, her knees were torn to raw flesh, white bone visible beneath the blood. Her forehead was split open, her consciousness flickering. Only then was she granted the jade pendant.

Perhaps heaven itself was moved by what she'd done.