The Queen the Don Lost

The next morning, Vera's door flew open.

Carlo stormed in, all fire and fury. Eyes bloodshot, jaw tight.

"Why'd you run last night?" he barked. "Why the hell'd you call Gina?"

Vera blinked. The heat in his voice threw her. 'Wasn't this the dance? I stepped aside. Didn't he want that?'

She gave a small smile. "She's the Chisari principessa. You care about her. Last night, she was the only one who could pull you outta that mess.

"I crossed a line. Got feelings I shouldn't've. But I get it now.

"From here on out, I'll stay in my lane. Wishing you and Gina a long, loving life together."

She'd rehearsed those words a million times in her head.

Last time, she forced the marriage. Lost the only brother who ever loved her. Died alone.

This time? She'd play the good little "sister." No do-overs.

Carlo's scowl darkened.

"What's this now?" he snapped. "You're playing hard to get now?"

Her chest tightened. He didn't believe her. Not one bit.

Truth was—neither did she. But she meant it.

That past life still echoed in her head like a warning siren: 'Don't screw this up again.'

The door opened again.

"Carlo! Didn't you say you were making me breakfast?"

Carlo—born into power, ruled with blood and iron—had never touched a damn frying pan. But for Gina? He did.

She strolled in wearing his shirt, latched onto his arm. Tugged him toward the door, all giggles and clingy hands. He let her. Even held her steady like she was something precious.

Vera's eyes dropped to Gina's hand.

That ring—black obsidian, loaded with power. The kind that let you boss around everyone under Carlo.

It was meant for the Don's wife.

He never gave it to Vera.

But he gave it to Gina.

No wonder Gina burned down the orphanage on Quaranta turf in her last life—and walked.

Love and indifference? Couldn't be louder.

Gina caught Vera's stare, lifted her hand, and gave the ring a little shake. "Carlo says it matches my skin tone. Practically begged me to wear it. What do you think, Vera?"

Vera kept telling herself to let it go. Her chest still felt like a fist.

She dropped her gaze. "Looks good. You're the Chisari principessa. It fits."

"Obviously." Gina smirked, then turned to Carlo, voice all sugar. "Babe, I wanna move in for a few days. But not the guest room—the lighting's awful."

Carlo's tone shifted, soft. "Which one you want?"

Gina glanced around, then landed right on Vera's room. "This one's perfect. Window faces the garden. Best view in the house."

Vera froze.

Back when she first came to the Quaranta estate, nightmares wrecked her sleep. Carlo had given her the room next to his. Decorated it just for her.

He even stayed the whole first month, only leaving once the nightmares stopped.

She let out a bitter smile. If he hadn't been that good to her back then... maybe she wouldn't have mistaken it for love. Wouldn't have crossed that line.

She'd lived too easy in her past life. Now that she was stepping back, she hadn't expected this kind of hit.

"Carlo..." The name slipped out before she could stop it—soft, almost pleading.

His reply came ice-cold. "Didn't you hear? Clear out of your room."

"But—"

"No but." His voice snapped. "That room's for the lady of the house. You've been squatting in it for years. Time to hand it back."