Married to the Don: My Sister Unravels in Regret

Carlo paused slightly. He swept his blue-gray eyes over me indifferently before stubbing out the cigar.

Then, he said to his trusted subordinate, "Tidy up the suite in the east wing. Everything my wife uses has to be the best of the best. Make sure to have them prepared."

In less than half an hour, my room was filled with haute couture, dazzling jewelry, and extravagant accessories.

During the day, Carlo was busy with the affairs of the famiglia, so I helped manage the kitchen. I personally prepared his meals and made sure to constantly switch up the menu.

I prepared warm stews in the morning and delectable desserts for afternoon tea. I made every dish with my own hands and carefully delivered them to him.

Gradually, I began to sense the occasional, inscrutable gaze he cast in my direction.

One night, Carlo was reviewing some documents while leaning against the headboard. When I moved closer to look, he pulled me into his arms in one swift motion.

I straddled his lap. When his lips came down on mine, there was a restrained ferocity to his kisses. His fingers tugged at my buttons and undid them. Soon, our bare skin came into contact. I felt his scorching breath on me. His eyes were filled with intense desire that he could no longer hide.

After that night, Carlo's attitude toward me gradually softened. The cold, austere look in his eyes was replaced by genuine warmth.

Carlo no longer confined me to the manor. Instead, he often took me with him to family banquets and private gatherings. He remembered that I didn't eat raw or cold foods. On rainy days, he personally held an umbrella to escort me to the car, and he would always tilt it toward me.

However, our peaceful days only lasted a few years before a single phone call shattered the calm.

Mama's urgent, tearful voice came through. "Nerissa, you have to help us! Something happened to Jovina!"

My fingers stiffened for a moment before I replied calmly, "I don't have an older sister. I only have a younger sister who has already drowned at sea."

Mama's voice shot up. "Cut the act! This is urgent! Jovina's boyfriend, Idalgo Fattore, got into a fight and beat someone up badly. He's being held at the police station now. The other party wants an astronomical sum as compensation, or they'll send him to prison! She's your sister! You can't just ignore this!"

I didn't give any response as to whether I would help.

In a calm voice, I asked, "So what do you want me to do?"

Mama demanded in an entitled tone, "Carlo is so rich and powerful. Ask him to give you the money. Pay the compensation and get Idalgo out! We'd be heartbroken if Jovina is unhappy while living abroad. You're well-off now. You can't just leave Jovina be!"

"No. I won't give you the money," I said firmly.

"How can you be so heartless! It's only 20 million dollars! You must help Jovina, or we'll come to the manor ourselves and expose the truth to Carlo. Let's see how you'll stay by his side then!" Mama screeched anxiously.

I clenched my phone. They thought they could threaten me, but they were unaware that in this life, I was no longer the timid person I once was.

My voice was full of disdain as I said coldly, "Do whatever you want. It's not up to you whether I can hold on to this position or not."

With that, I hung up the call. My chest rose and fell slightly due to my rapid breathing as I tried to suppress my anger.

Soft footsteps sounded behind me. At some point, Carlo had come over. He stood close to me. His attractive, deep-set eyes rested on me, giving me a slightly probing look.

I quickly adjusted my emotions and walked over to him. "It's nothing. The other person got the wrong number."

As he approached, the faint scent of cigar smoke lingered around me.

Carlo raised his hand and gently caressed my cheek. The warmth of his fingertips dispelled some of the chill I felt.

He murmured in a low voice, "If you're tired, rest early, cara mia."