“Have you guys seen how much the Don’s been hanging around Susan lately?”
“Shut your mouth, the Donna’s right there!”
One of the men elbowed the other, who turned to me with an awkward smile.
“Sorry, Donna. Just messing around, don’t pay us no mind.”
I stared at the table full of mango desserts.
Susan’s favorite, through and through. And I was deathly allergic to mangoes.
Once, Zane had loved me just as fiercely.
He’d camped out at the docks for weeks on end, just to have an excuse to eat lunch with me when I was too busy to leave the office.
When I’d pushed through work in the middle of a heart episode, he’d crushed my pills into a sugar-free cake, fed it to me with a grin, and laughed at the face I made when I tasted the bitter medicine underneath.
Back then, the wind off the water had tasted sweet, just because he was there.
Now, that sweetness belonged to someone else.
I pushed the thought away, burying myself in the winery project paperwork.
I’d pulled all-nighters for weeks to get this deal over the line, and of course, I was working late again that night.
It was pitch black outside by the time I finally looked up.
Zane was standing in the doorway.
“Seraphina? You’re still working?”
I looked up, my voice cold and distant.
“Is there something you need, Don Corleone?”
He seemed thrown by the formality, but after a brief pause, he walked in.
“Susan’s been in a bad state for a while. The doctor said it would help if she had something of her own to focus on.”
Then he said quietly, “I want you to let her take over the winery project.”
He knew exactly how hard I’d fought for this deal. How many nights I’d stayed up, how many meetings I’d sat through, how much of myself I’d poured into it.
And still, he had come to me asking for it for Susan.
Because he believed I would understand.
Because he believed I would give way.
“Fine. She can have it. Tell her to come down to the docks tomorrow, and I’ll walk her through the handover.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
Then, almost like he was rewarding me for being reasonable, he reached out and brushed a hand lightly over my shoulder.
“That’s my girl.”
When I didn’t respond, the faint smile on his face faltered for a second.
“Alright,” he said, gentler now. “Don’t make that face. I’m not trying to upset you. Just help her get through this for now.”
“Stop being so stubborn with me. I know I messed up with the cellar. You’ve always wanted to go to Sicily, right? When this blows over, I’ll take you. Just the two of us.”
He glanced at me, the easy confidence already back in his eyes.
“Tomorrow’s our anniversary,” he said. “Don’t stay too late. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
He said it with the same easy certainty he always had, as if one dinner and a few soft promises were enough to mend everything.
I suddenly realized how long it had been since we had spent an anniversary alone.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
One last dinner, to close the book on us forever.
We arrived at the restaurant at six o’clock that evening. We’d barely sat down when Zane’s phone rang. He answered it, then turned to me with an apologetic look.
“I’m so sorry, Seraphina. Something urgent came up. I have to go handle it, but I’ll be right back, I promise.”
He left.
I waited until nine o’clock, until the food on the table had gone cold, until my stomach ached with hunger. He never came back.
I was just standing up to leave when a familiar figure slid into the seat across from me.
Susan.
She looked me up and down, a cruel smirk on her face.
“Well, Seraphina. At the end of the day, Zane still chose me. He left you alone on your wedding anniversary to come running to me. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you’re the problem?”
When I said nothing, she leaned forward, her voice sharp with triumph.
“Let’s make a bet. Which one of us is gonna be the Donna of the Corleone family? It’s almost sad, really. All your hard work’s just gonna be my legacy. You should just fold now. I’d hate to see you humiliate yourself even more.”
My chest tightened, that familiar warning sign of an oncoming heart episode.
I stood up to leave.
Susan grabbed the wine bottle off the table and smashed it against the floor, then threw herself down onto the shards of broken glass. Bleeding gashes opened up on her legs instantly.
Her voice shook with perfectly feigned terror.
“Seraphina, I just wanted to help you with the dock work! You said I could! Why would you do this to me?!”
The restaurant door slammed open. Zane stormed in.
Of course. She’d heard his special footsteps coming down the hall.
He saw Susan on the floor, covered in blood, and pointed a finger straight at me.
His voice was a roar.
“I thought you were finally willing to let this go. Why would you make things harder for her again, Seraphina? She’s already in bad shape.”
Susan scrambled to her feet and hid behind him, sobbing hysterically.
“I don’t even care about the project! I never wanted to hurt you! Why would you do this?!”
A sudden, dull pain slammed into my heart.
My breathing turned ragged.
“Zane...”
His face changed instantly.
“Seraphina?”
He took a step toward me, tension flashing across his features.
But Susan suddenly grabbed his arm, crying even harder.
“I know you hate me, but you can’t do this every time!” she sobbed. “You can’t keep using your heart condition to pull him away whenever something happens to me!”
Zane’s body stiffened.
His eyes lingered on my pale face for half a second, torn between doubt and anger.
“Enough, Seraphina,” he said sharply. “Not now. Susan’s hurt. She’s bleeding.”
The pain twisted harder through my chest. My knees gave out.
Voices broke out around us.
Someone called my name. “Don... Madam doesn’t look right—”
Zane bent down and caught Susan as she swayed against him.
“She’s faking it again,” he snapped. “Take Susan to the hospital.”
That was the last thing I heard before I let my eyes close.
By the time they reached the hospital, Susan was already stable.
Zane stood outside the exam room, his expression still cold, but something in his mind wouldn’t settle.
For a split second, he saw the look in my eyes before I collapsed.
His fingers tightened slightly.
He pulled out his phone and dialed my number.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
A faint irritation flickered across his face, quickly replaced by something sharper.
He called the villa.
“Where is Madam?” he demanded.
“Don… Madam passed away. Sudden heart failure.”