The Don’s Regret: His Obedient Donna Is the Lost Heiress! Chapter 02

The Don’s Regret: His Obedient Donna Is the Lost Heiress! Chapter 02

The next morning, I showed up at the hospital on time for my pre-op checkup.

Dr. Elian looked at my ultrasound and sighed.

“The fetus is developing perfectly, Miss Sanzaro. Your health is already fragile, it might be very hard for you to get pregnant again later. Are you really sure about this?”

I stared at the small shadow on the paper and clenched my fingers.

My child didn’t deserve a father full of lies.

“I’m sure. Please schedule the surgery as soon as possible.”

…

After I left the hospital, I went straight to the company for my final handover.

As soon as I stepped onto the executive floor, I heard a woman’s soft, seductive laugh coming from Don’s office.

“Alarion, this bracelet is so pretty. Won’t Virelle be upset if she sees it?”

I’d never mistake that disgusting voice—it was Ismeria.

My hand on the doorknob froze mid-air.

“She won’t find out.” Alarion’s voice was warm and indulgent. “Virelle’s so understanding, she won’t fuss over something this small.”

I looked down at my own empty wrist.

That Donna heirloom bracelet was the wedding gift he’d promised me.

Understanding again! Fuck understanding!

I pushed the door open straight away.

The laughter cut off instantly. Alarion’s eyes flickered nervously.

“Virelle, what are you doing here?”

Ismeria sat on his desk, the bracelet on her wrist glinting. She deliberately lifted her wrist to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Virelle, Alarion said my complexion looked bad and insisted on buying me a little gift to cheer me up. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I don’t mind. It’s just a bracelet. I can afford one myself.”

Alarion breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to take my hand.

“I knew you’d be the most understanding.”

I pulled away from him and set the handover checklist on his desk.

“Sign it. Once you sign, I’ll leave.”

He didn’t even look at it—he thought it was just a regular work document—and signed his name right away.

“Virelle, after this busy period is over, I’ll take you to pick out a much nicer gift.”

“Don’t bother.”

I grabbed the document quickly and turned to leave.

In the hallway, I flipped through the stack of papers. It clearly said “resignation statement” on top, and right below it—divorce papers.

…

That night, I cooked a whole spread of dishes, all of Alarion’s favorites.

At seven thirty, he pushed the door open. He froze for a second when he saw the full table.

“Why did you suddenly cook so much?”

“It’s sort of a farewell dinner.”

Alarion’s hand froze on his coat, he frowned, then walked over and pulled out a chair to sit down.

“What do you mean, a farewell dinner? Virelle, everything you say today sounds so off.

“Sorry baby, I wasted your effort. I already ate out earlier. I had a few too many drinks with a client, I can’t eat anything right now.”

I stared at the lipstick stain on his collar—the exact shade Ismeria had worn today.

“Was it a client, or was it Ismeria?”

Alarion’s face darkened instantly.

“You’ve been spying on me?

“Ismeria isn’t feeling well, so I look out for her a little more. What’s wrong with that? Virelle, stop overthinking this. You should know what you mean to me.”

I stood up, carried the plate of food over to the trash can, and dumped it all in.

It didn’t mean anything else. I just thought even a farewell dinner from this mess was disgusting.

“Virelle, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Alarion strode over and grabbed my hand angrily.

I looked up and met his eyes straight on.

“Alarion, when food is dirty, you throw it away, right?”

His pupils shrank sharply. He tried to read some petty anger on my face.

But he was disappointed. There was only calm in my eyes.

He let go of my hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Go to bed early tonight. I promise nothing happened between me and her. Just calm down, okay?”

He walked into the study, and paused for a second when he pulled the door closed. In the end, he didn’t say anything else.

I looked at the mess all over the floor and picked up the broom to clean it up bit by bit.

There weren’t many more days left for me to clean out the garbage in this house anyway.

On my phone, the countdown to my flight to London ticked—three days left.