The Don’s Regret

The white lights in the underground clinic were cold and harsh, forcing the smells of disinfectant and blood into every corner.

I lay on the black leather-covered examination bed.

Thick gauze was wrapped around my temple. The family’s private doctor had just finished removing the last stitch.

I needed thirty-two stitches, with not a single one done under anesthesia. The dull pain of the needle piercing flesh was still throbbing at my temples.

“Ms. Rossi, Don Corleone instructed that the bandages shouldn’t be removed for three days. Don’t let them get wet,” the doctor said.

His movements were light as he packed up his tools, but he deliberately knocked the tweezers heavily against the tray. “And you’d better stop provoking Miss Sophia. In this family, no one will offend the young lady for an outsider.”

The word “outsider” felt like a needle.

I didn’t respond and reached under the pillow to take out my phone.

The first notification on my social feed was Sophia’s post.

In the video, Vincenzo sat on a leather sofa in his study. White bandages were wrapped around his fingers as he carefully wiped the diamond-studded handgun. Sophia leaned against his shoulder, smiling at the camera.

The caption was a single line: [The Corleone Don, always protecting me.]

The comments were full of agreement from family members. Even an old council advisor left a comment praising the closeness between the don and the young lady.

I clenched my phone until my knuckles turned white.

The family rules clearly stated that intentional harm to family members must be judged by the council.

Sophia smashed a bottle over my head and stunned me with a taser, yet somehow it was reasoned as “closeness”.

I struggled out of bed. As soon as I reached the clinic door, two guards in black suits stopped me.

“Ms. Rossi, Don Corleone has ordered that you are not allowed to leave the clinic for now.”

“I want to convene a family meeting.” I raised my phone in front of them. “Sophia violated family rules. I want her to pay the price.”

The guard on the left sneered. “The family received Don Corleone’s instructions this morning. Corleone family matters aren’t for outsiders to comment on. You should behave yourself and not make things difficult for us.”

“Outsider?” I stared at the family badge on their chests and suddenly laughed. “I am Vincenzo’s lawful wife. How exactly am I an outsider?”

No one answered. The guards simply stepped forward half a step, blocking every path.

I didn’t know how long it had been before the clinic door was finally pushed open.

Vincenzo walked in wearing a dark gray custom suit. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and two buttons at his collar were undone.

There was a black velvet box in his hand, and he tossed it onto the bedside table in front of me.

“Sophia is young and lost control of her emotions,” he said flatly. “I’ve punished her with one week of confinement at the family villa. She won’t be allowed to participate in any territorial affairs.”

“One week?” I picked up the velvet box and opened it.

Inside was a set of blue diamond jewelry. The pendant on the necklace was as large as a pigeon egg, dazzling to the point of hurting my eyes.

“I needed thirty-two stitches and almost got electrocuted to death, and she only gets confined for one week?”

Vincenzo frowned, as if he felt I was being unreasonable. “Stop dwelling on this. I’ve already arranged for a private jeweler to customize another set of blue diamonds for you. Once you’re discharged, you can also visit antique jewelry shops in Monaco. Buy whatever you like. It’s all on me.”

When he said this, a trace of guilt flickered briefly in his eyes before being covered by indifference, as if jewelry could erase everything.

I slammed the box shut. My voice trembled as I said, “Vincenzo, do you think this is what I want? What I want is fairness under family rules, and you, as my husband—”

“Enough.” He cut me off, his tone turning cold. “I decide Corleone rules. Either accept the jewelry or stay in the clinic. Choose one.”

I didn’t speak again and stared at the blue diamond box on the bedside table.

Seeing that I didn’t argue, he turned and walked toward the door. “You’ll be discharged tomorrow. I’ll have the driver pick you up.”

The next morning, a black armored car stopped outside the clinic.

As soon as I got into the back seat, I froze.

Sophia was already there.

She wore a red dress, with a gold family honor badge pinned to her chest—the kind only core members involved in central affairs were allowed to wear.

“Ella, I’m sorry.” She glanced at the bandages on my temple, her tone perfunctory, as if reciting lines. “I shouldn’t have been impulsive. Don’t take it to heart.”

Before I could respond, Vincenzo’s voice suddenly came from the front seat, filtered through the partition.

“Sophia will move into the main villa and participate in the family’s jewelry smuggling operations. The two of you will work together.”

“Jewelry smuggling?” I turned sharply toward Sophia, who smiled, clearly pleased.

Sophia pulled out her phone and waved the screen. On it were contact details from a rival family.

“Vincenzo, people from the Valentino family contacted me again yesterday. They want to cooperate with me.”

Vincenzo’s voice hardened instantly. “Delete it.”

Sophia paused. “Vincenzo, they said they could help us—”

“I said delete it.” He gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white.

His tone was filled with undeniable control. “Your connections can only be with the Corleone family. You are not allowed to have any contact with outsiders.”

Sophia reluctantly deleted the contact. Then, she turned toward me and raised her brows slightly, the provocation in her eyes impossible to hide.

He cared so much about the men around Sophia. Yet, for my injuries, he didn’t even offer a single sincere word of concern.