The Don Regretted It Five Years After I Left

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner.

She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.”

Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic.

He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in.

We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me.

But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article.

At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing.

Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling.

One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down.

The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal.

I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold.

Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance.

The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.”

That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done.

While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back.

Five years passed.

“Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

The woman and I were barely acquaintances, but everyone in the LA underworld had heard the story of me and Dante.

She'd been typing fast on her phone until she got a good look at Lily's face. Then she froze and deleted the message without sending it.

“You... got married? And you have a kid?” Her throat worked. “Who's the father? Please tell me it's not that old creep from the underground bar.”

Lily tugged at my skirt and looked up at me. I smiled politely and moved to step around her.

Yet she caught my wrist, blood-red nails digging in.

“Mia, listen to me. Dante's more powerful now than he ever was. The whole East Coast port network answers to him. He spent years looking for you. He put the word out: say the word, he'd break off the engagement that same day. Without Camille, she's done. She'll never be Donna of the Moretti family.”

She watched my face. Nothing moved in it. Her voice dropped.

“Or I could pretend I never saw you. Take the baby, go smooth things over with Dante. The position's still open: Donna. He's still holding it for you.”

I covered Lily's ears with one hand.

“You're working harder for Dante than his own mother ever did. How much is he paying you?”

The color drained from her face.

“Who do you think you are?” She snapped, voice cracking sharp. “You spent your teenage years hustling drinks at a dock bar, Mia. Don't act like you're above this.”

Trash. Shameless. Whore.

I'd been hearing those words my whole life.

I slapped her hard without hesitation. Five fingermarks rose on her left cheek before she'd finished flinching.

She stood there, too stunned to scream.

“You know what slander is, right?” I moved Lily behind me, voice flat as a blade off the whetstone. “Need me to walk you through it?”

“If my daughter has nightmares tonight because of your reckless words, I'll make sure you never speak a coherent sentence for the rest of your life.”

“Mia Rossi.” She backed away, jaw tight, teeth grinding. “You married some nobody and now you think you're something? That man doesn't come close to one hair on Dante's head.”

“You're going to bat for Dante this hard,” I said. “You trying to get into his bed?”

I didn't wait for an answer.

I took Lily's hand and walked. I didn't look back.

Behind me, she was nearly screaming. “Mia! Don't think this is over!”

Lily licked cream off the corner of her mouth and looked up at me.

“Mommy, why did that lady get hit?”

“Because she said the wrong things.”

“Oh.” She thought about it. “Daddy says people who say the wrong things don't need to keep talking.”

“He's right.” I kissed her forehead.

“Mommy, when's Daddy coming to LA?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“But what if someone's mean to you before he gets here?”

I looked down at her, five years old, with eyes exactly like her father's. Bright in a way that unsettled people.

“Mommy can handle it herself.”

“Does Daddy still need to bring his gun?”

“Yes. And some new LEGO sets for you.”

She gave this a satisfied nod and buried her face against my shoulder.

I knew exactly what was coming. Within half an hour, everyone in the LA underworld would know I was back, and that I was married, with a child.