The Powerless Donna’s Second Life

On her first day at the Genovese estate, Jessy began bossing the household staff around.

She was making a grand show of redecorating the main living room.

"This Altorian handmade solid wood furniture is so heavy," she said, running a dismissive hand over a tabletop before turning to Santino with a seductive smile.

"Santino, can we replace it with those gilded imperial-style sofas? Something that suits your status as the Don of Veridia."

Santino didn't even bat an eye, simply instructing the butler beside him, "Do as Jessy says."

I stood there like a ghost, numbly watching as several family soldiers in black suits took down the art prints I had personally selected from the artistic capital of Solaria just six months ago.

They were Renaissance-era antiques, gifts I had spent over half a month acquiring at auction to celebrate their acceptance into a top-tier private school.

Leo and Sofia trailed behind her silk skirt like two loyal puppies.

They pointed excitedly, "Auntie Jessy, the carpets and curtains have to go too! The things Mother picked are so old-fashioned and boring, it's like living in a museum!"

Jessy bent down and kissed their foreheads gently. "Of course, darlings. We'll change everything to be just the way you like it."

My hands gripped the cold marble banister so tightly my nails threatened to snap, but just as quickly, my grip went slack.

Those prints and art pieces were things I had scoured galleries across the continent for, things I had chosen for them by hand. Some I had even designed myself, brushstroke by brushstroke.

While I was pregnant, I endured the discomforts of carrying them, wanting only to give them a home filled with culture and taste.

The pieces were made with the most expensive pigments and infused with calming lavender oil, because when they were little, they were allergic to many common decorative materials.

And now, they were being tossed into a junk truck in the courtyard like cheap trash.

Over the next few days, the once tranquil estate was transformed into something unrecognizable.

Santino and the children indulged Jessy's every whim, as if she were the true Donna of the family.

"Jessy, put that down." Santino caught her wrist as she made a show of directing the workers moving a vase.

His long fingers rested lightly on her delicate skin. "Your hands are for playing the piano and caressing the children, not for this."

"Auntie Jessy, I'll get your bag for you!" Leo scurried over, taking her handbag like a little gentleman.

I had never seen such a fawning expression on the face of this spoiled Mafia heir.

"Miss Jessy just needs to relax and take care of herself, to prepare for the family's future," the butler said obsequiously, handing her a freshly poured glass of champagne.

"Leave the heavy lifting to us."

The irony was laughable. I once thought I was the rightful mistress of this family, so I had always treated them with the utmost respect, conducting myself with grace.

But the moment I was out of favor, they seamlessly moved on to a new Donna, rendering all my efforts worthless.

Jessy had simply walked in, done nothing, and become the pampered princess everyone doted on and protected.

Their hushed whispers were not as quiet as they thought.

"The Don is so generous with Miss Jessy. Look at the way he looks at her, like he could eat her alive. He barely even spares a glance for the Donna."

"Tell me about it. And look at the young master and young miss, always clinging to her. I bet we'll be calling her the new Donna soon enough."

The last flicker of feeling in my heart died.

I retreated to my bedroom, quietly packing the few old clothes I had left, and waited for the right moment to leave for good.

That afternoon, my phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Jessy.

It was a series of photos and short videos documenting her and the children's "family time" at the equestrian club.

She had shamelessly paraded them around the parents' lounge at the club.

In the video, Leo and Sofia were surrounded by the children of other mob bosses and wealthy businessmen.

They proudly held Jessy's hand, boasting, "This is our... new mom! She's the hottest woman in all of Veridia!"

The other children let out feigned gasps of awe. "Wow! Your new mom looks like a silver-screen movie star! Her perfume smells amazing!"

"Your Papa is the Don, and your new mom is so beautiful and stylish. Your family is so cool!"

"So, does your new mom cook for you and help with your homework?" another wealthy kid asked, clearly not understanding the situation.

In the video, Leo and Sofia froze for a second.

Then they mumbled, "Oh, that's all our nanny's job. You guys have seen her before, she's the one who used to come pick us up."

My fingers trembled violently. The cup slipped from my trembling hands, shattering on the floor and splashing black coffee across the expensive carpet.

I slowly knelt, picking up the shards with my bare hands, and suddenly, I laughed. It was a laugh filled with nothing but sorrow.

So, all these years, in the hearts of my own flesh and blood, I was never a mother. I was never worthy of being the Donna.

I was nothing more than a glorified nanny.

But it didn't matter anymore.

This "cheap nanny" was about to resign, permanently.

From now on, their charming, beautiful "real mom" could deal with their tantrums and homework.