The Ashes of a Don's Regret

Prying life-saving money from Isabella was harder than snatching a steak from a rabid dog.

"An emergency treatment requires a one-time payment of five hundred thousand dollars? Miss Caterina, you're not just making up an excuse for pocket money, are you?"

"Five hundred thousand is no small sum. Miss, could you provide a 'non-affiliated party' certificate from the Swiss clinic before I sign? For compliance reasons, I have to reject this for now."

I explained to her it was for an emergency surgery and that a detailed plan could only be made after my condition stabilized.

Isabella tapped the desk with her blood-red nails, feigning a sudden realization. "Oh, so that's how it is. I've been blessed with good health, so I'm not very familiar with medical matters."

"However, the family's financial compliance and anti-money laundering reviews are very strict. This could easily attract the FBI's attention. How about this, Miss, you provide a full paper trail for the legal source of all funds, and then I'll approve it for you?"

Then she narrowed her eyes. "Besides, for all we know, the clinic could have been bribed. I'm not doubting you, Miss. I just have a responsibility to protect the Don's reputation."

"Why don't you go find the family's lawyer and get a liability waiver?"

Just like that, Isabella stalled and stalled, until the critical window for my heart treatment slammed shut.

By the time the money finally came through, even the best private doctor in the family could only shake his head in regret.

In that moment, an endless hatred mixed with soul-tearing agony churned inside me.

I knew it was over.

A suffocating weight pressed down on me. It felt as if my heart gave one last, feeble flutter before the hope inside it died completely. This engagement was no longer a sacred promise, but a cage meant to imprison me.

Once I knew what I had to do, a strange sense of relief washed over me. The powerful aura of Vincenzo that had weighed on me for years abruptly vanished.

So, when I saw Isabella's provocative post on social media, I felt nothing.

The photo showed Vincenzo teaching her how to shoot at a private range, his chest pressed flush against her back. I calmly took a screenshot and then casually liked the post.

When Isabella was involved, Vincenzo’s reply was always instantaneous.

"Caterina, why are you randomly liking things? It was just training. Don't overthink it."

"You know you're the only one in my heart. Isabella is a capable subordinate; she's like a sister to me."

He immediately sent another message:

"Since you've already liked it, taking it back now will just make you look petty. Everyone in the family is watching."

"Be a good girl. Go leave a comment praising Isabella. This is your chance to show your grace as the future Donna and help me maintain my image. You've always been so understanding, haven't you?"

I wasn't going to bother.

But on second thought, I couldn't just swallow the bitterness.

So I did as Vincenzo said.

"Isabella is indeed the best 'sister.' She not only helps the Don with his work but shares his private life, too. Managing the family finances, taking care of my fiancé... she's so dedicated. What a heavy burden she must carry."

"Every dollar you save for the Don now will be your own when you take my place. Then you won't have to live like a beggar, the way I do."

After replying, I tossed my phone aside.

Then I began to calmly pack my things.

My phone buzzed violently on the table; it was Vincenzo. My cold reply must have finally tipped him off that something was wrong, because he began calling me repeatedly.

I answered, and his voice was tight with suppressed fury: "Caterina! What the hell are you talking about? Was your account hacked?"

"Baby, stop it. Delete the comment, and we'll talk this out..."

I hung up and threw the phone onto the sofa.

The world was finally quiet.

Packing didn't take long.

After all, in this luxury penthouse, every valuable item belonging to the future Donna was locked in a vault that required multiple verifications. For all these years, I had been an unwelcome guest, living in a house that was never mine. Even my scent was just a fleeting trace.

For the first time, I saw everything with perfect clarity.