His Uncle's Donna, His Bitter Regret

I was delivering design blueprints to my husband, Giovanni, the Don of the Grimaldi family, when I ran into my ex from two years ago at his family's headquarters—the same man who’d abandoned me at the altar to "protect his sister."

I had changed my hairstyle, my makeup, my entire persona.

But he recognized me in the crowd with ease.

"Alessia. I'm back for you. Happy to see me?"

I felt a familiar, unwelcome churning in my stomach.

"I'm sorry, but who are you…?"

He let out a shaky laugh.

"Baby, don't be like that. Don't be angry. I didn't mean to leave you waiting at the church. Gracie was targeted by a rival family. I had to get her out of there, to keep her safe. She's my only sister; I couldn't just stand by and watch something happen to her."

"Things got… complicated. I had to lay low at an overseas branch for a while."

"But as soon as she was safe, I rushed back to bring you home!"

It was only then that I realized. This disheveled man… was my ex-fiancé, Jeremy.

No.

Had no one told him? That on the very night he left me at the altar, I married his uncle: Don Giovanni Grimaldi, head of the Grimaldi family.

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1

I strode into the lobby of Grimaldi Holdings, a blueprint tube tucked under my arm.

As usual, the receptionists greeted me with respectful smiles.

I nodded and headed straight for the private elevator.

Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind me.

"Alessia?"

I turned to see Jeremy standing just past the revolving door, his adopted sister, Gracie Rossi, by his side.

Two years had clearly taken their toll on him.

He was so worn and disheveled I almost didn't recognize him.

"Here to pick me up?" Jeremy strode over, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I just got back from my overseas assignment. How did you know I'd arrive so soon?"

I glanced at the blueprint tube in my hand and tried to remain composed. "Excuse me, I have an appointment."

Jeremy misunderstood. He looked down at the blueprint tube and chuckled. "You knew I love architecture. Are you bringing me new blueprints?"

"I knew you'd still be waiting for me," he said, his voice brimming with unshakeable confidence.

Beside him, Gracie let out a soft cough.

Jeremy immediately wrapped an arm around her, his voice thick with concern. "Are you alright? Feeling sick again?"

After comforting her for a moment, Jeremy caught up to me again. "Don't get the wrong idea. She's frail and needs looking after. You know her parents died protecting me, gunned down in a shootout with a rival family. With them gone, I'm all she has. I have to be responsible for her."

"Right," I said, my tone dismissive as I turned back toward the elevator.

"Wait." Jeremy quickly blocked my path.

"Stop pretending, Alessia. If you came to get me, let's go. I know I hurt you by leaving you at the wedding. But we were both immature back then. I'm back now. We can start over."

I was speechless.

I tilted my head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and revealing the skin of my collarbone.

"I'm already married."

There, just below my collarbone, was the Grimaldi fleur-de-lis, its ink a dark, gleaming promise. A mark reserved only for the family's Donna.

"In fact, I should thank you for abandoning me. Otherwise, I would never have met the man I was destined to marry."

Jeremy froze. A few seconds later, he burst out laughing. "A sticker?" He leaned in, trying to get a better look. "Alessia, that's so childish. Do you really expect me to believe this?"

"Believe what you want." I pressed the elevator button.

"Impossible!" Jeremy's voice hardened. "Alessia, everyone in New York knows we were supposed to get married! Everyone thinks of you as my future wife. Who would dare touch you?"

So he knew. He knew the wedding was a declaration to the world that I was his. And yet, he had still left me without a second thought. Did he think that simply by claiming me, I would be left with no other choice?

I shook my head and ignored him. We’ll see if he’s still laughing when he finds out I'm the Donna of the Grimaldi family.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside. Jeremy tried to follow, but a security guard stopped him. "Sir, you do not have clearance for the top floor."

"What?" Jeremy frowned. "I'm Giovanni Grimaldi's nephew!"

"I'm sorry, sir. Rules are rules."

Just before the doors slid shut, I saw the fury on Jeremy's face.

A scene from two years ago flashed through my mind. In St. Patrick's Cathedral, everyone was waiting to witness our wedding. But at the crucial moment, his adopted sister received a threatening message and collapsed.

Jeremy had hesitated for a second, then turned to me. "Gracie's condition can't wait. I need to get her out of here now. Don't worry, we'll postpone the wedding. I'll be back."

With that, he had swept up his adopted sister and boarded a private jet without a backward glance. The church erupted in whispers. Some people were even snickering.

I stood there in shock, feeling like a complete fool.

Then Giovanni appeared. He was Jeremy's uncle, the Don of the entire Grimaldi family. In that moment, he stood before me like a god and gave me a gentleman's bow. "My dear lady, are you in need of a new husband?"

I met his deep-set eyes and placed my hand in his. "Yes," I said.

The next second, Giovanni gently pulled me into his arms, lowered his head, and captured my lips in a kiss that was a declaration to everyone watching. When he kissed me, I felt the sheer force of his will, a current of power that sent a shiver down my spine.

The elevator arrived at the top floor.

I walked into Giovanni's office. His secretary informed me that his meeting would be delayed for at least another hour.

My phone buzzed.

My Husband:

Sorry, baby. The Valentis are a real pain, always posturing and wasting time. Don't wait up for me tonight. I'll make it up to you later.

He even added a heart emoji at the end. I couldn't help but smile.

"Alessia?"

I turned to find Jeremy had somehow followed me up. He must have used his family name to pressure the security guards downstairs and force his way up. He stood at the office door, staring at my phone screen with a playful smirk. "'My Husband'?" He crossed his arms, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "A delayed meeting? Really? You're laying it on a little thick."

"Alessia, stop playing games," Jeremy said, taking a step closer. "You know I hate being played."

"Still so stubborn after two years," he said, his tone condescending.

"Come on, let me see your 'fake tattoo.' It's quite realistic, I'll admit." He reached out, his hand aiming for the fabric near my chest.