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The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real Novel Cover

The Don’s Obedient Doll Was Never Real

Rosalie Thorne was the North’s most rebellious princess until she traded her wild life for Rocco, the South’s ruthless mob boss. For five years, she played the role of his submissive porcelain doll, erasing her identity to suit his preferences. However, when Rocco crowns his adoptive sister as the new Donna, Rosalie realizes her sacrifice was in vain. Reclaiming her fierce spirit, she walks away from the man who took her for granted to fulfill a long-awaited marriage alliance back home.
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Chapter 3

Three days later, the Poseidon, the South's most luxurious seaside casino hotel, was a glittering spectacle of light and champagne.

This was Rocco's victory gala, an event to divide the spoils of war.

Tonight, the balance of power in Southmi's underworld would be redrawn.

I wasn't here to fight for everything, but I had to claim my share.

It was the price for five years of my youth.

I had changed into a deep-V silver sequin gown, slit to the top of my thigh.

Facing the full-length mirror, I gave myself a sharp, smoky eye and painted my lips the brightest shade of red.

The Rosalie who always kept her head down was dead.

In her place stood the Thorn Principessa of the Thorne family.

As I pushed open the two heavy, gilded doors of the banquet hall, Rocco was lounging in the high-backed chair at the head table, swirling a glass of champagne.

Vivian was pressed against his side, her tight red dress accentuating her exaggerated curves.

As I approached, a newly promoted Capo, eager to move up, raised his glass and bowed to Vivian with a fawning smile.

"To our future Donna! Please, drink as you wish!"

The triumph on Vivian's face was impossible to miss.

And Rocco, his back to the entrance, didn't stop it. He just let it happen.

My heart felt like it had been squeezed in a fist, a pain so sharp it made me want to vomit.

You're pathetic, Rosalie. Still feeling pain for this man, even now.

I took a deep breath, straightened my spine, and walked toward them, clinging to my last shred of dignity.

Vivian saw me first.

She looked me up and down, her eyes sweeping over my startling new look, a smirk playing on her red lips.

"Well, well, Rosalie? Finally decided to ditch the nun's habit?"

"Dressed like that... are you trying to copy me? How pathetic."

The surrounding chatter seemed to pause, and all eyes turned to us.

I ignored her, my gaze fixed on Rocco.

"Rocco, I'm not dead yet, and you're already letting your men call someone else Donna?"

My voice wasn't loud, but it sliced through the jazz music.

Rocco's hand, holding the wine glass, paused.

He slowly turned around. The moment he saw me, a flash of pure astonishment crossed his cold eyes.

But it was quickly replaced by that familiar, entitled arrogance.

"Rosalie, don't be so petty. Vivian and I grew up together. The men are just trying to get on her good side."

"I spoiled her rotten. If I don't let her have her way, she'll throw a fit."

"It's just a title. You've always been generous. What's the harm in letting her have it?"

Donna. Such a sacred title, and he was telling me to let her have it.

I looked at the man before me and felt like the past five years had been an absurd joke.

The sharp pain in my chest miraculously vanished, leaving only a dead, gray calm.

I smiled.

"Fine," I said softly. "Since you asked, I'll let her have it."

Rocco's expression visibly relaxed, probably thinking I had gone back to being the meek woman who would swallow any humiliation.

He was wrong.

"Vivian, since I've given you the title of Donna, is there anything else you want?"

I turned to the gloating woman. "Our last meeting was so rushed, I didn't prepare a gift. Ask for anything today, and it's yours."

Vivian's eyes lit up as she pointed to the ruby ring on my finger.

"Perfect. Rosalie, I think that ring would go well with my dress. Since you're being so generous, give it to me."

Everyone's eyes focused on my hand.

The ring wasn't exceptionally valuable, but it was one-of-a-kind.

Three years ago, after fighting his way through a hail of bullets to secure control of the Southmi port, Rocco had sketched the design himself.

He said the ruby was his true heart—proof of his absolute loyalty to me, and a symbol of my future as his Donna.

He had given me many more expensive gifts over the years, but this was the only one I always wore.

Now, Vivian was publicly demanding this heart.

Rocco frowned and gave a low shout:

"Vivian, stop messing around. That ruby is out of style. If you want jewelry, I'll buy you something better."

In that reprimand, there wasn't much anger, only indulgence.

I looked at the smug entitlement on Vivian's face, then at the casual indifference in Rocco's eyes.

I'd had enough.

I smiled even more brilliantly. "If you like it so much, it's yours."

While Rocco watched in shock, I raised my hand without hesitation and pulled the ring from my finger.

The cold metal slid across my skin, sending a subtle shiver through me.

As if what I was removing wasn't a ring, but an organ connected to my flesh and blood.

"Rosalie! What are you doing?!" Rocco shot to his feet, his face ashen.

I frowned, my eyes full of tears I was fighting to hold back.

Didn't you say the ruby, your true heart, was out of style?

Now that I'm giving up everything, what are you getting so worked up about?

"Catch, Vivian. Here's the heart you wanted."

With a flick of my wrist.

The ring, laden with so many broken promises, was tossed like a piece of trash at Vivian's high-heeled feet.

The room fell silent. I didn't look at anyone.

"Rocco, let's just say we..."

"Don't say it!"

He lunged forward to stop me, but Vivian blocked his path.

A stiff smile remained on my face, but real tears streamed from my eyes.

"Let's say our debts are settled."

Without another glance at him, I turned and walked away.

Behind me, I heard Vivian's theatrical shriek.

"Rosalie, are you insane?! Rocco gave that to you! How could you just throw it on the ground! You're so ungrateful!"

"Well, if you don't want it, it's mine..."

Just as she bent down, her fingers reaching for the ring.

A gunshot exploded through the room.

Vivian screamed, yanking her hand back and cowering on the floor, trembling.

Rocco stood with his silver Beretta in one hand, the muzzle still smoking.

His eyes were terrifyingly dark, his voice a blade of ice.

"Anyone touches it, and I'll break their arm."

"I want to see who's brave enough to pick it up tonight."

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