The Don’s Discarded Wife
Description
eedom with a smile. What they didn't know? She was the hidden heir to the most powerful mafia family in Velmorra. Now she sits beside her true father, Don Matteo Corvatti. And when Dante walks in expecting a blessing for his new life, she's already there-calm, flawless, untouchable. "You called me forgettable," she tells him. "I took that personally." He threw her away. Now she's the one they all answer to.
Chapter 1
Jun 22, 2025
I knew I was beautiful. That’s why they hated me even more.
“Still pretending to be one of us?” The voice of my sister-in-law Alessia rang behind me as I passed the dining room.
Her mother Gianna didn’t even look up from her espresso. “She thinks pearls make her royalty.”
I bit my tongue. I was raised to stay quiet. Raised in the shadows. Don Vittorio said it was safer that way—for me. He told me once, “You are more than what they see. One day, they’ll choke on what they ignored.”
I was married into this family as a strategic move. I didn’t understand it all, but he did. He never called me daughter-in-law. He called me protected. But the rest of the house? They treated me like furniture with lipstick.
“Don’t forget the gala napkins,” Alessia added, tossing me a list like I worked for her. I smiled tightly. “Of course. Anything to please the real princess.”
The hallway smelled like polished marble and old perfume, a mix that clung to the bones of the house. Every time my heels echoed against the floor, I felt like I was trespassing in a life that was never mine.
I passed the portraits of dead Morellis—men with harsh eyes and sharper fates—and wondered if they’d sneer at me too.
Gianna didn’t need to raise her voice to cut me down. She did it with a glance, a purse of her lips, the way she dusted invisible lint from her designer blouse when I walked in.
“Napkins, Aria,” she said crisply, not bothering to look up from her crystal glass. “Folded like swans. I trust even you can manage that.”
“I could also handle the seating chart,” I offered carefully.
Gianna finally looked up, eyes like cold metal. “Darling, this isn’t about what you can do. It’s about what you should stay out of.”
Alessia snorted from the side, arms crossed like she was posing for a magazine cover. “She still thinks she’s here to help. That’s adorable.”
Laughter rippled through the staff, too afraid to meet my eyes. They didn’t have to. I already knew how I looked—polished, poised, misplaced.
By mid-afternoon, the house buzzed with menus, floral crises, wine pairings. I stood alone at the far table, folding napkins, while Alessia clicked by in heels.
“Don’t forget the swan tails,” she said sweetly. “We wouldn’t want your big contribution to look sloppy.”
The pearls around my neck itched. Or maybe it was just the weight of pretending.
A maid brushed past me with a tray and whispered, “You shouldn’t let them treat you like this.”
I smiled politely. “Why not? I’m their favorite prisoner.”
Later, I passed my husband Dante’s study. The door was cracked just enough for sound to slip out.
“Oh, Dante,” Valentina’s voice sang, sugar-sweet and lethal. “Don’t tell me you actually miss your charity wife.”
He didn’t respond. But I heard the clink of a glass. Hers. Not his.
I should’ve walked away. Instead, I stood there, listening like a fool. Like a wife. I hated that part of me.
“She’s so quiet,” Valentina continued. “Like a doll someone forgot to wind up. Pretty, but not much use.”
I stepped back. The pearls dug into my throat like a noose.
Don Vittorio passed me in the hallway later, his cane tapping softly. He paused beside me without speaking.
Then he nodded once. Just that.
It was the only real acknowledgement I’d had all day. And somehow—it was enough to keep breathing.
The Don’s Discarded Wife
30 Chapters
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