The position as the private secretary of Don Aido Derocchi is a proper job that comes with a lavish salary.

That's why everyone is shocked when they find out that I've resigned from that job.

I tell everyone that I want to take my son, Leo Derocchi, to Melbir so that I can collect my husband's personal effects there.

What no one knows is that my so-called husband is actually Aido himself. Leo is the by-product of our one night stand.

That's why Leo and I can't let our true identities be known to the public.

Since the Derocchi family doesn't need me as their Donna, I don't need a man who's not a good husband as well.

Of course, Leo doesn't need a father who doesn't even permit him to call him "papa".

Viola's POV

When I submitted my resignation letter to the secretariat, the staff member looked shocked.

"Viola Conti, you're leaving the Derocchi family?"

The Don's private secretary was a respectable, well-compensated position. He couldn't understand why I would give it up.

"Sì." I smiled and delivered the excuse I'd prepared long ago. "My husband left me an inheritance in Melbir. I'm planning to take my son and live there."

It wasn't a particularly clever excuse. But for seven years, everyone believed I was just a single mother raising a child on my own. No one knew that the "husband" I spoke of was actually the Don of the Derocchi family, Aido Derocchi.

"That's good news. Raising a child alone is difficult." He flipped to the last page of the document and pointed at the signature line.

"But you're the Don's private secretary. You've had access to the main estate's ledgers, guest lists, and several important channels. According to the rules, your resignation and clearance release must be signed by the Don himself."

I nodded and took the document back.

Of course it needed his signature. Without it, even these seven years wouldn't officially be over.

As I walked out of the law firm, I ran into Aido at the end of the corridor. He wore a black suit today, the collar pressed perfectly straight, silver-gray cufflinks fastening his sleeves.

Standing beside him was Isabella Bellucci, the Principessa of the Bellucci family, the woman everyone now assumed would be the future Madre.

She held his arm, her high heels clicking against the marble with a light, steady rhythm. She was beautiful.

When she raised her hand, the diamond bracelet at her wrist caught the light with an expensive gleam. She belonged to this estate, these banquets, these social scenes in a way that seemed natural, effortless.

As for me?

Seven years ago, I was the most unremarkable assistant in the Derocchi family secretariat. Back then, the old Don was gravely ill, and Aido had just taken over family affairs.

Every day felt like walking on a tightrope. I worked late into the night organizing ledgers, verifying lists, helping the family dodge one risk after another. Through my own efforts, I became Aido's private secretary.

Later, after a port negotiation one night, Aido accidentally drank a glass of wine someone had spiked. I thought he was simply drunk, so I let my guard down and escorted him back to his room without suspicion. But that night, we slept together.

Afterward, I got pregnant.

The old Don refused to let Derocchi blood exist outside the family. He forced Aido to register our marriage in secret. That marriage certificate was locked away in the Derocchi family's underground vault like an old receipt no one wanted to see.

Aido never acknowledged me as his wife. He wouldn't let me wear a wedding ring, wouldn't let me live in the quarters meant for the Madre. Our son wasn't even allowed to call him "Papa".

In his eyes, I was always the woman who used one accidental night and a child to force her way into his world.

As we passed each other, I couldn't help myself. I called out softly, "Aido."

He stopped, his gaze settling on my face. It seemed calm, distant, without a ripple of emotion.

"Signorina Conti."

He was reminding me that this was the corridor outside the family law firm, not the small building on the east side of the estate where he'd put Leo and me. I was his secretary, not his wife.

I lowered my eyes and corrected myself. "Don Derocchi."

He made a faint sound of acknowledgment and continued walking, as if I were just another subordinate.

My phone lit up. It was a message from Leo on his children's smartwatch.

"Mamma, will Papa come home to spend Christmas with me tonight?"

I froze mid-step and glanced back without thinking.

Not far away, Isabella said something that made Aido lean in closer, listening intently. A breeze drifted through the window, and he reached up instinctively to drape her shawl over her shoulders.

I stared at the scene, like something sharp twisting slowly in my chest. Still, I sent Aido a message.

"Tonight is Christmas Eve. Will you come home?"

Across the corridor, I watched Aido glance down at his phone. Less than three seconds later, his expression unchanged, he pressed the screen dark and slipped it back into his pocket. He didn't reply.

I almost laughed. What was I even hoping for?

I took a deep breath, put my phone away, and turned to leave. Soon enough, Aido wouldn't be bothered by Leo and me anymore.

After leaving the main estate, I went to pick up Leo from school. The little guy came running up with his backpack, eyes shining.

"Mamma, will Papa come home tonight?"

My throat tightened. I was about to comfort him when my phone suddenly vibrated. It was a reply from Aido.

"I'll be home tonight."

Those few words landed like sparks in my already cold heart.

I looked down at Leo and kept my voice as steady as I could. "Sì."

I ruffled his hair. "He said he'll come home tonight."

Leo immediately jumped with joy. "Really? Can I wait for him to open presents together?"

I nodded and told him yes.

Back home, I made Leo's favorite foods. After Leo finished his homework, he ran back and forth across the living room, rearranging the small lights under the Christmas tree three times, then sneaking to the door to peek outside.

This was the sixth time he'd hoped his Papa would spend Christmas with him. It was also the sixth time Aido had promised, though whether he'd actually show up remained uncertain.

An hour passed, then another, then another. My messages to Aido sat there unanswered, just like always.

Leo finally asked in a small voice, "Mamma, is Papa really busy again?"

I opened my mouth but couldn't get a single word out. In the end, I just placed the red and white Santa hat on his head and said softly, "It's okay. Mamma will always be here with you."

He nodded obediently and didn't ask again.

That was when I happened to scroll past Isabella's latest social media update. The photo showed the night view from the top floor of a seaside club with wine glasses, roses, candlelight, and a caption so provocative it stung my eyes.

"Tonight is perfect. Couldn't have asked for a better evening or better company."

The photo didn't show his face, but I recognized Aido immediately. That hand with its prominent knuckles rested on the edge of the table, palm pressed against a half-full wine glass. On his left pinky sat an extremely thin, plain band.

That was our wedding ring.

Seven years ago, when we registered our marriage, he'd chosen it himself. He said wearing it on his ring finger would draw too much attention, so he kept it on his pinky instead.

To anyone else, it looked like an ordinary accessory. No one would know it was a trace left behind by a marriage.

How ironic. What should have symbolized our marriage had become just another piece of jewelry he could wear without a second thought while out with another woman.

I liked the post with a blank expression, set my phone aside, and turned to arrange the small Christmas cake for Leo.

Candlelight flickered across his face as he pressed his palms together and closed his eyes, making his wish as serious as if he were saying a prayer.

"I want to stay with Mamma forever."

I froze for a moment, then smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead.

"Okay," I said. "Mamma promises."

In that instant, the last trace of my hesitation disappeared. After Leo fell asleep, I took out the divorce papers I'd been keeping in my drawer.

At 2:00 am, Aido finally came home. When he pushed through the door, his coat still carried the damp chill of the night air.

He caught sight of the untouched Christmas cake and the dinner that had long gone cold on the table, and his steps faltered slightly, as if only now remembering what day it was.

"Sorry," he said. "I forgot."

I almost laughed out loud.

He hadn't forgotten. He'd just put another woman ahead of Leo and me.

I handed him the documents, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "Sign these."

He glanced down but didn't take them. "What documents?"

"A few family matters that need your signature."

Aido was about to flip through them when his phone suddenly rang.

Isabella's voice came through, clearly pouting. "Aido, the power just went out on my street. Can you come keep me company?"

Aido stood up without hesitation. "Sure, I'm on my way."

After he said that, he didn't even look at the documents in my hand. He just flipped to the last page and signed his name with a few sharp strokes. When that string of bold letters landed at the bottom of the page, my chest felt strangely calm.

The door slammed shut behind him.

I looked down at the signed resignation letter and divorce papers. Suddenly, it felt like the weight I'd carried for seven years had finally lifted.

"Aido, don't forget. You're the one who signed these."

…

The next morning, I went to the secretariat for my final handover. I submitted the resignation letter with Aido's signature, returned the guest lists, the encrypted phone, two handwritten schedules, and the black-and-gold pin that marked me as his private secretary.

On my way back, Aido stopped me. He was holding an elegantly wrapped gift box.

"Christmas present for Leo," he said. "I forgot last night."

I took it and opened it right in front of him. Inside was a black Doberman model, meticulously crafted with teeth and eyes that looked disturbingly realistic.

My hands went rigid. Leo was terrified of dogs. More precisely, he was terrified of all large dogs.

When he was four, Aido had promised to take him out for the first time. At a horse racing club, he'd left Leo with a bodyguard halfway through so he could meet with an important business partner. The bodyguard answered a phone call, turned away for just a moment, and Leo disappeared.

When we found him, he was huddled against the fence outside the kennels, face pale as death, frozen in place. The guard dogs inside were barking viciously at him, their foul-smelling saliva spraying across his face.

Ever since, dogs had become the nightmare that woke Leo up screaming in the middle of the night. And his father had just given him a Doberman model as a Christmas present.

I couldn't even tell if what churned in my chest was anger or exhaustion.

I closed the box again, my voice soft. "Grazie."

Aido probably noticed something was off about my expression, but he didn't ask.

He just paused, as if remembering something, and spoke in that same detached tone. "Isabella will be moving into the estate for a few days."

I looked up at him.

He continued, "Isabella likes the building on the east side. The sunlight is better there, and she thinks the white roses outside the window are beautiful. She'll be staying there. You and Leo need to move out."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "You're saying that because she likes the sunlight and the roses in that house, I need to take our son and leave?"

Aido frowned. "It's only temporary."

"Temporary?" I let out a short laugh.

"Aido, Leo and I have lived there for seven years. Now you want us to give up our home because another woman likes the sunlight and flowers, and you're telling me it's temporary?"

He was silent for two seconds, his tone still calm. "I'll compensate you both."

But what good was compensation when the damage was already done?

I didn't argue further. "Fine. We'll leave tonight."

That evening, after packing our things, I went down to the basement. I placed the signed divorce agreement in the safe that hadn't been opened in seven years.

Then I took Leo and left.

The moment we stepped outside, we ran into Aido personally escorting Isabella into the estate. The black sedan was parked at the front steps. The driver had just opened the trunk when Aido moved ahead to pull open her door.

He shielded the top of the car with one hand and steadied her wrist with the other, his movements smooth and natural, every inch the attentive lover.

Isabella stepped out in her high heels and froze when she saw me. "Signorina Conti?"

Her gaze dropped to the suitcase by my side, then swept over Leo standing next to me. Her smile flickered.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Before I could answer, Aido cut in.

"My former private secretary," he said flatly. "She stayed here for a while to handle business more efficiently."

My fingers tightened around the suitcase handle until the metal dug painfully into my palm. It wasn't the first time I'd heard something like that, but every time felt like someone was twisting a dull blade into an old wound until I couldn't breathe.

Before I could say anything, Leo stepped out from behind me. He looked up at Aido, his voice soft but unnaturally clear.

"Good evening, Don Derocchi."

Aido went completely still. He stared at Leo as if he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"What did you call me?"

I felt a bitter smile tug at my lips. Wasn't this what he'd always wanted? From the moment Leo learned to speak, Aido had corrected him over and over.

Never Papa, never Father, always "Don Derocchi"—Aido had drilled that into him from the start. Now Leo was using it by choice.

Something complicated flickered across Aido's face. He grabbed my wrist, his grip hard, his voice low and strained. "Give me some time."

He stared at me. "I'll explain it to him."

I glanced down at his hand on my wrist.

"Isabella's waiting for you," I said. "Let go."

He seemed to snap out of it and slowly released me. I took Leo's hand and started walking away.

"Wait."

Aido hurried back to the car, pulled a cake box from the back seat, and held it out to Leo. "Merry Christmas."

Leo's eyes lit up instantly.

"This is the limited Christmas cake from the artisan bakery on East Street, no. 98. Aido had someone reserve it for me two days ago." Isabella looked at Leo, her smile laced with barely concealed mockery.

"Signorina Conti, you should take your son to places like that more often. Oh, don't worry. Compared to your generous salary from the Derocchi family, it won't cost you much."

Leo was too young to catch the sarcasm. He bit his lip, then asked me quietly, "Mamma, can I have just one bite?"

I wanted to refuse, but seeing the hope in his eyes, I smiled and nodded. I opened the cake box and cut a small piece, but the moment I caught the sweet scent, my smile froze.

It was pistachio.

"Don't eat it!"

I snatched the fork from Leo's hand so fast I barely registered my own movement, but it was already too late. He'd swallowed that bite and was clutching his throat now, bending over as violent coughs racked his small body.

Aido's face darkened, his voice sharp. "Viola, what the hell are you doing?"

I pulled Leo into my arms and looked up at him, my eyes burning.

"He's allergic to nuts," I said, each word deliberate. "Didn't you know that?"

Aido froze. Several seconds passed before he spoke in a low voice. "I didn't know."

That phrase again. Leo leaned against me, his face pale, the light in his eyes slowly dimming.

"It's okay, Mamma," he said, his voice trembling faintly. "It's normal that Don Derocchi wouldn't know."

In that moment, the last shred of hesitation inside me disappeared completely. I picked Leo up and turned to leave.

This time, Aido didn't try to stop me. He stood there, watching us go, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't get a single word out.

I didn't look back. I hailed a cab straight to the airport.

Before we boarded, Leo rested his head on my shoulder and asked quietly, "Mamma, will you be sad if we never see him again?"

I paused mid-step. "Will you?"

He thought about it seriously, then shook his head gently.

"No," he said, wrapping his arms around me.

His voice was soft but firm. "I just want to be with you."

My throat tightened, and I held him closer.

Before the plane took off, I pulled out my phone and blocked every way Aido had to contact me. Text messages, private numbers, the secretariat backup email, and encrypted communication apps—I deleted everything.

Goodbye, Aido. The Derocchi family didn't need a Madre who couldn't be acknowledged. I didn't need an absent husband. And Leo didn't need a father who had to stay hidden.

From this moment on, Leo and I were gone from his life for good.

…

At the same time, in the Don's study, Aido woke earlier than usual. He'd barely slept, too busy replaying Leo's painfully distant "Don Derocchi" and the image of me walking away with our son without looking back once.

He'd just sat down at his desk when the butler, Giorgio Rossi, brought in a document. "Don Derocchi, Antonio Romano sent someone early this morning. He said you need to review this personally."

Aido frowned slightly and flipped it open. The next second, the bold letters at the top hit him like a punch to the gut—"Resignation Letter".