I Left the Don Who Used Me as Bait

Dante Rinaldi, the Don, had one unbreakable rule. After midnight, no one was allowed near the estate's West Wing. Not even me. Not even on our wedding night, right after we signed our marriage contract. The moment the clock struck midnight, he'd draw his gun and coldly order his guards to keep me out. Once, while overseeing an arms shipment at the port on his behalf, I discovered the Russians had set a trap. Desperate, I activated my emergency beacon. His voice came back over the radio, flat and mocking. "If you can't even survive a firefight, you have no business being my Donna. I'm hanging up." I barely made it back to the safe house through a hail of bullets. He never asked if I was okay. Instead, he punished me for losing the shipment. Then, today, I hacked into the West Wing's top-secret surveillance system. I watched every midnight recording from the West Wing, three full years of them. The footage was silent, but there he was—the ruthless Don, spending hours patiently comforting a frightened woman. The woman with access to that wing was his private doctor, Elena Costa, the widow of his late older brother, Matteo Rinaldi. She was the one he truly wanted to protect. To keep her safe, he'd made me, his wife on paper, a target for every enemy he had. My shoulders sagged, and exhaustion washed over me. I sat there until my legs went numb. Then, without a word, I turned off the footage and filed the papers to end our contract. The light in that safe house had never burned for me. And I was done being his decoy. Chapter 1 The confirmation popped up on my screen just as Dante pushed open the carved doors to the great room. He found me slumped on the couch, making no move to get up. He checked his watch and frowned, already impatient. "Any other business we need to discuss tonight? It's almost midnight. I have to get to the West Wing." I studied the hard lines of his face for two seconds, then shook my head. "No. Nothing." He gave me a curt nod. "Fine. Get some sleep." He didn't notice how pale I was or that my hands were shaking. He turned and headed down the private corridor to the West Wing. I sat there for a while, staring at nothing. I was about to get up when the dark screen of the house comm unit flashed red. It was Elena's private channel. And then there was Dante. The ruthless Don had forbidden all visitors, calls, and business after midnight. Yet he answered her call at once. As if he couldn't bear to keep her waiting. I let out a bitter laugh. How considerate. Too bad I'd never been the one he broke his rules for, despite being his wife. I went back to our room. And I finally let myself notice the things I'd always ignored. Like the backup radio he kept in our bedroom, its volume turned all the way down. Like the receiver he kept on him day and night, locked to the West Wing's frequency. I turned off the light. In the suffocating dark, I opened an encrypted message from my Russian contact, Alexei Volkov. Last week, he'd offered me a job in Moscow running a new shipping route. I'd turned him down. Things were more dangerous than ever, and I hadn't wanted to leave Dante. But now it was over. All of it. Alexei's reply came almost immediately. "Are you sure? Once you're on that icebreaker to Moscow, you don't belong to Sicily anymore. It sails in two days." I typed back a single word. "Yes." Outside, a cold wind moved through the treetops. Elena was probably sleeping like a baby in the West Wing right now. I got under the covers. An invisible trench seemed to divide our bed in two. My mind drifted back to a rainy night two years earlier, when a fight over territory had nearly gotten us killed. Dante, who never let anything shake him, had thrown me to the ground and shielded me with his body. As he held me in the dark, I felt his arm trembling, just barely. It was the same arm that held a gun steadier than anyone's. "Don't be scared. I'm here." His voice was low and urgent, betraying how worried he was about me. That was the night I started falling for him. Back then, I'd believed we would be happy together for the rest of our lives. I sighed and closed my eyes. Nightmares dragged me under. When I woke up the next morning, Dante was standing at the gun bench by the walk-in closet. I got up and touched his tactical tablet. It was burning hot. Before I left, I had to destroy the Rinaldi family's coded files. I fed them into the shredder, then headed for the door without looking at him. I'd almost made it past him. Dante turned his head, caught off guard, and called after me. "You're not going to sight in my Beretta for me?" I gave him a small smile. "Nope. Not anymore. "You can read the manual and figure it out yourself." I paused. "Or have your private doctor do it for you." Dante set down the magazine he was loading and came over, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. "You mean Elena?" The moment her name left his lips, all that frightening menace drained out of him. For a second, his cold eyes almost smiled. "She knows her way around guns. She's careful. But what does that have to do with you sighting in mine?" I just looked at him. He acted like it was perfectly obvious, and I couldn't be bothered to say more than I had to. "It doesn't. I just don't feel like doing it anymore." Dante's mouth tightened. He clearly wasn't happy. "Suit yourself. And don't bring lunch to the meeting room today. Elena said she's bringing me one of her healthy meals." My fingers tightened on the door handle. "Fine." Dante's stomach had been badly damaged in a shootout years ago. No matter how many assassination attempts I faced, I'd always made his special liquid meals myself and gotten them to him on time. Well. That suited me just fine. One less thing to carry. That settled it. I gave up any thought of looking after him, gave a one-word reply, and slammed the door behind me. I went to a hidden outpost run by the Santoni family, who controlled Corsica, and got their highest-level travel seal. On the way back, I stopped by the armory and wiped every fingerprint record they had on me. I dropped my badge into a bag and sealed it. I stood in the blinding Sicilian sun and watched the coastline stretch into the distance. For the first time in a long time, I felt free. Then I remembered something. I took out my handheld, logged into the estate's security system, and erased Dante's master access code. From that moment on, he was locked out. The system would never take orders from him again. Chapter 2 On the drive back, the head of our outpost called me. He asked me to stop by the central medical unit and pick up the casualty report from the latest shootout. I ended the call. I sighed. I was trying to make a clean break, and of course the medical unit had to be Elena's territory. By the time I arrived, the place was packed with people getting their dressings changed. A few guards from the outer perimeter were talking quietly, but I couldn't help overhearing them. "The Don had a helicopter fly these sedatives in from Russia. Just for Dr. Costa." "Yeah. Everyone in the family knows he has a soft spot for her. They look perfect together. She's the real Donna." I slowed down. Bitterness rose in my throat before I could stop it. I'd held the title of Donna for three years, but I'd never once been allowed into the room where the real decisions were made. Right after we signed the blood contract, I'd asked him to introduce me at a meeting of the elders. To tell the other gangs who I was. But this was Dante. The Mafia Don who held the power of life and death had looked me over like one of his men and shut me down cold. "Know your place. Don't overstep. "You're not some street punk fighting over a man. Stop making a scene. That's not how this family operates." I went cold all over that day. I never asked again. The guards nearby were still gossiping about Dante and Elena, not caring who heard. "Honestly, I bet the Don only married her to use her as a decoy to take the heat. Has anyone ever seen him smile at her?" "No doubt about it. He's ruthless with everyone except Dr. Costa." Their voices faded down the hall along with their footsteps. I stood there, the sharp smell of antiseptic in my nose, and slowly clenched my fists. Every bullet I'd taken for him, every drop of blood I'd shed, suddenly felt like a cruel joke. I took a deep breath. Thank God I had a way out. In three days, none of this would be my problem. I got the report from the man in charge. As I passed the second private room, familiar voices drifted through the partly open door. "Try this. It's a Sicilian specialty. It's really good." I looked through the crack. Elena and Dante sat side by side on a sofa. She held a sugar-dusted pastry to his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Dante hated sweets. Always had. I'd made him something sweet once. He smashed the bowl and walked out. But now? He barely frowned before giving in to Elena's gentle coaxing and opening his mouth. He looked at her as if she could get away with anything. He swallowed it. Elena watched him expectantly. "How is it? Do you like it?" Dante nodded. "It's not bad." I couldn't help smiling bitterly at myself. All those years I'd fought for my life, and it turned out Dante knew how to bend over backward for a woman after all. I just never got to see that side of him. Not in three years. Not once. But the show wasn't over. Dante pulled out a tissue and wiped the crumbs from the corner of Elena's mouth as if he'd done it a hundred times before. His voice softened. "Did last night scare you? Did you sleep okay?" "I slept fine." Elena gave him a fragile smile. "As long as you're here, I feel safe." Then she seemed to remember something. "But I thought you weren't supposed to take calls after midnight. Am I causing trouble for you?" Dante answered without hesitation. "You're the exception." Those three words. They hit me like a knife to the chest, twisting slowly until I couldn't breathe. It was one thing to suspect it. It was another to hear him say it. It lasted only a moment. After that, there was nothing but numbness. Some bullets kill you if you leave them buried in your flesh. But if you grit your teeth and dig them out, the wound eventually scabs over. I leaned against the wall for a long time, until my face gave nothing away. Then I turned and walked out of the building. Back at the estate, I dragged out a suitcase and started tossing in the things I couldn't leave without. After three years in that cage, I didn't even have enough belongings to fill a single suitcase. Night fell. Dante called on the house line. "Come downstairs. We're having dinner with my mother tonight." I answered with a flat "Mm." When I stepped outside, the armored car was waiting at the foot of the steps. Out of habit, I went around to the passenger side and reached for the door. But Elena was already sitting there, holding a cup of hot cocoa. "Good evening, Donna." She'd spilled a few brown drops on the leather seat. Without thinking, I looked up at Dante. He was a neat freak. No food or drinks in his car, ever. Not even for me. But Dante didn't react, as if this happened every day. Right. Of course. I'd almost forgotten. Elena was allowed to break every rule he had. Elena grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the seat, putting on a show of embarrassment. "I should sit in the back. I..." I gave her a calm smile. "No need. Stay where you are. It's just a seat." I opened the back door. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the surprise on Dante's face. I ignored it. It wasn't like I'd never tried sitting up front before. But every time, Dante had given me the same cold lecture. "Know your place. It's just a seat. Don't make a scene." I stared out at the dark Sicilian night. There wasn't a shred of the old heartbreak left in me. I was so calm that even I was surprised. He's right. It's just a seat. And he's just a cold-blooded Don. They're all the same to me now. Trash to be taken out. Chapter 3 When we pulled up at his mother's estate, Maria Rinaldi was already on the steps, watching eagerly for us. As Dante's mother and the former Donna, she commanded more respect than anyone else in the Rinaldi family. Elena had her door open before the car even stopped. She gathered up her skirt, hurried over, and linked arms with Maria. "Maria, it's so damp out tonight. You didn't have to come out to meet us. Let's get you inside." Maria beamed at her, all warmth. "I'm worrying about you, sweetheart. Having to stay in Dante's West Wing like that. You deserve better. "Hardly anyone can put up with that temper of his." Elena glanced at Dante, who was smiling a little, and her cheeks turned pink. "Dante takes good care of me. I don't mind at all." The two of them went up the steps together, laughing and chatting. Maria was halfway up before she stopped, as if she'd only just noticed me. She looked back at me, not bothering to hide her contempt. "Oh, you're here too. Come inside. You're an eyesore standing out there." That was all the welcome I got. Dante didn't seem to notice my humiliation. He reached out to pull me against him as if nothing were wrong. I stiffened and stepped out of his reach before I could think. His hand hung there in the empty air. Dante caught my wrist and gave me a dark look. "What are you sulking about now?" "I'm not sulking." I just couldn't be bothered to keep groveling anymore. His jaw tightened. "If someone's giving you trouble out there, let someone else deal with it. There's no need to bring your problems home and brood over them. "And wipe that miserable look off your face. I won't have my wife looking bitter in front of everyone." My hands curled into fists at my sides. As my nails bit into my palms, the absurdity of it all hit me. For a second, I'd fooled myself. I'd actually thought he'd noticed my heart had gone cold. I stopped walking. I looked straight into those bottomless eyes. Whatever I'd once felt for him was gone. All that was left was calm. Dead calm. "My mood and my expression are none of your business. If you don't like what you see, gouge your own eyes out. "I'm your wife. Not a pet who has to cater to your moods." Dante's face darkened. The Don's authority was unmistakable in his voice. "You're a grown woman. You know the rules. We signed a contract, and I expect my wife, even if it's only on paper, to have some self-control." I scoffed. "Then who do you think can live up to your high standards?" His eyes narrowed as if he were seriously considering it. But I knew he'd made up his mind long ago. "It doesn't matter who. Until the contract ends, you're my wife on paper. "You'd do well to learn a thing or two from Elena. She knows when to hold her tongue and how to survive in this family. Am I clear?" I held his gaze for two long seconds. Then I let out a dismissive laugh. "Fine." Inside the castle's grand dining room, Maria led Dante and Elena to the seats of honour at opposite ends of the long table. I knew where I belonged. I went to the farthest, least noticeable seat. It wasn't until I sat down that I saw it. The table was covered with beautiful dishes, but there wasn't a single thing I could eat. Maria held both their hands and beamed. She kept telling the staff to fill Elena's plate. "Look at you. You're so thin, it breaks my heart. "You have to take care of yourself, even in the West Wing. Dante told me what to make, and I had all of this prepared just for you." Elena ducked her head shyly. "Thank you, Maria." Then Maria paused. She looked me over with open disdain and gave me a thin smile. "I couldn't be bothered to ask what you like. Just make do with what's here." Dante picked up a shrimp with the serving fork and dropped it onto my plate. "If you have any special requests next time, let the kitchen know in advance. "You're not picky about food anyway. "Not like Elena. She's so fussy. She only likes rich sweet-and-sour dishes like these. She's like a little girl who never grew up." I looked down. I stared at the shrimp on my plate, my eyes going unfocused. One bite could trigger an allergic reaction bad enough to kill me. Three years. For three years, I'd taken every bullet and every knife in the back that was meant for him. And he had no idea what I couldn't eat or what I was allergic to. Nothing. Yet he could recite Elena's every preference without a second thought. Every word landed like a slap, reducing everything I'd done for him to a joke. Just then, the comm unit in my pocket buzzed with a route confirmation code from the Santoni family. Departure was set for eight o'clock tomorrow morning. The knot in my chest finally loosened. I didn't touch my food all evening, and Dante never noticed. I sat there like an outsider, watching the three of them play happy family. There was no place for me in their circle. And I didn't want one. Chapter 4 "Turn right up ahead. We'll drop Elena off at the clinic first." Elena's perfume filled the car. On the way back, Elena still had the front seat. I sat in the back, quietly discussing the purchase of a safe house in Moscow with an overseas contact over an encrypted channel. "Come sit up front." Dante said it out of nowhere, in a tone that left no room for argument. I didn't even look up. "I'm good." He went quiet for a moment. "Suit yourself." I had no energy left to argue. On my screen was a heavily secured villa out in the snowy countryside. I paid the deposit without a second thought. We got back to the estate. Dante took out a beautifully bound portfolio and walked over to me. "Take a look. See if anything catches your eye." Confused, I picked it up. Inside were designs for the ceremonial scepter I'd be presented with when I was formally recognized as the family's Donna. "Pick one soon. You'll be presented as Donna in just a month, and the craftsmen need time to finish it." He tapped a page with one long finger. It showed a scepter set with tiny diamonds and engraved with bellflowers. "I like this one. It suits you." A flicker of cold contempt crossed my eyes. Bellflowers. Elena's favorite flower. He'd even turned the symbol of my power into a tribute to her. Before, I would have drawn my gun and overturned the table. But that was then. Now I just nodded as if it didn't matter. "Sure. No problem. Go with that one." By tomorrow morning, I'd be gone for good anyway. A month from now, the crowning ceremony would be a farce. There would be no Donna to crown. Dante seemed pleased with how well I was behaving. For once, he reached out and touched my face. "Good. Evelyn, one more month and I'll be announcing you to the whole underworld as my Donna. "This is how I like you. Quiet. I don't want to see that bitter-wife act from earlier today again. Is that clear?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he walked into the bathroom. I pulled out one wet wipe after another. I scrubbed the spot where he'd touched my face more than a dozen times and didn't stop until my skin was red. Then the clock hit midnight. As if he were running on a timer, Dante got dressed, took his comm unit, and left our bedroom for the West Wing. He didn't notice that the weapon I always kept on the vanity was gone. Or the packed tactical backpack sitting by my nightstand. Of course he didn't. Unless it was Elena, everyone else was beneath his notice. It stayed quiet until two in the morning. Then a shrieking alarm tore through the silence of the estate. My eyes flew open. On the security monitor, flames were shooting into the sky over the West Wing. Elena's scream came over the radio, high and cracked. "Dante! Help me!" On the monitor, the cold-blooded Don, who never flinched even when everything fell apart, looked like an enraged animal. He didn't even stop for a vest. He grabbed a heavy assault rifle in one hand and charged into the fire, roaring. "Elena! Get behind the bulletproof glass!" So much for his midnight rule. So much for his rule about showing no weakness before I was officially recognized as Donna. The moment Elena was in danger, he tossed it all out like trash. I had no intention of getting dragged into that mess. I leaned against the headboard and settled in to watch. I switched over to the dark web. The Mafia forums were already going crazy. "Hit men from an unknown crew just raided the medical wing. Looks like they're after Dr. Costa!" "Update! The Don's going in himself with his men! He's like a madman!" "I've got footage from outside. The Don snapped three hit men's necks with his bare hands. Now he's covered in blood and holding her in his arms!" "That's real love. That Evelyn-whatever-her-name-is must be a joke they keep around to draw fire." I kept scrolling, my face blank. Then someone uploaded a video. I hit play. Dante, who always preached discipline and ruthlessness, had completely lost control. He was slamming his fist into an assassin's face, over and over, until there was nothing left of it but blood. Finally, a few of his men worked up the nerve to drag him off. Only then did he stop. Then he turned and crushed a trembling Elena against his chest. He pressed her face into his coat so she wouldn't see the body parts scattered across the floor. "It's okay. I'm here." The clip sent the dark web into a frenzy. Everyone gushed about how devoted the Don was. I watched for a while, perfectly calm. Before closing it, I liked a comment about how they'd live and die for each other. Then I logged off. Dante didn't leave the West Wing all night. I wasn't surprised. I woke at six on the dot. I picked up my black tactical backpack, packed with weapons and classified files, grabbed my forged passport, and took one last look at the bellflower design on the table. I left the Donna's ring on top of it. Then I opened the door and disappeared into the morning fog without looking back. At the port of Naples, I boarded the Santoni family's private yacht. Then it cut through the waves and headed out into the deep blue sea. Dante and I were finished. Whether he lived or died, I'd never see him again.