The Don’s Regret: His Obedient Donna Is the Lost Heiress! Chapter 07

The Don’s Regret: His Obedient Donna Is the Lost Heiress! Chapter 07

Three months later.

London, England.

I hunched over my architectural blueprints, making revisions at an open-air café along the River Thames.

This was my first project after rejoining the Sanzaro family, my first official test after stepping into the family business.

Early winter sunlight warmed my skin, soft and gentle.

“Virelle, have some hot milk.”

A steaming mug slid across the table toward me.

I looked up, straight into Tavion Valenwick’s warm, crinkling eyes.

Tavion was the heir to the Valenwick family, and the Sanzaros’ most reliable ally in London.

When I first came back to the family, he’d been the one to meet me in person, carrying the authorization documents from the Sanzaro family council.

No questions, no pity. He’d just draped his coat over my shoulders and said, “Welcome home, Miss Sanzaro.”

“Thanks.”

I lifted the mug and took a small sip.

“I’m almost done with the blueprints. I’ll just swing by the site this afternoon to check it out.”

Tavion sat down across from me and reached out to straighten my scarf, which the wind had messed up.

“Okay.”

I’d barely answered when my peripheral vision caught a familiar figure standing across the street—Alarion.

He wore a thin trench coat, had lost a huge amount of weight, with sunken eye sockets and a thick stubble shadowing his jaw.

The once confident, charismatic king of New York looked haggard and broken now.

He stared at me, his gaze locking onto Tavion’s hand as it adjusted my scarf.

The next second, he ignored the oncoming traffic and stormed straight across the road.

Amid sharp screech of brakes and a driver’s furious yelling, Alarion skidded to a stop in front of my table, breathing heavily.

“Virelle…”

His voice came out rough and scratchy, his eyes immediately glistening red.

I looked at him calmly.

“Sir, can I help you?”

That single word “Sir” made Alarion’s body jolt hard.

He reached out, going to touch my face, but Tavion blocked him

instantly.

“Sir, watch yourself.”

Tavion stood up immediately and stepped in front of me, shielding me.

Alarion’s gaze bore into Tavion’s hand resting on my shoulder, a wild rage boiling up in his eyes.

“Let go! Who the hell are you? How dare you touch what’s mine!”

Tavion didn’t back down an inch.

“You’re mistaken. Virelle has never been anyone’s property.”

Alarion’s face darkened. He stepped forward, forcibly shouldered his way between me and Tavion, just like he’d done a hundred times before—trying to block anyone he didn’t approve of from getting close to me.

But this time, I stepped back. I moved to stand beside Tavion.

Alarion froze mid-movement.

He turned to look at me, his voice shaking, broken and desperate.

“Virelle, I finally found you.

“Come home with me, okay? I was wrong, I really know I messed up.

“I kicked Ismeria out. I rebooked the wedding venue, did it all exactly the way you like it…”

I cut him off impatiently, tired of his rambling.

“Alarion, are you deaf? Listen good and clear—we’re done!”

“We are not done!” Alarion suddenly raised his voice.

“Virelle.” He ground out my name between his teeth, his voice still shaking.

“When did I ever give you permission to leave?”

He pulled a crumpled prenatal test report out of his pocket.

Alarion lowered his head, his voice suddenly going thick.

“The baby… that was my fault.”

He paused for a long time, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently before he forced the next words out.

“Virelle, just give me one chance. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

I stared at the report, crumpled beyond recognition in his hand, and felt nothing but bitter irony.

“Alarion, you still don’t even understand why I left.

“I wasn’t throwing a tantrum, and I wasn’t just jealous of Ismeria.

“I just… don’t love you anymore.”

Alarion’s face drained of all color, turning deathly pale.

“No… that’s impossible…”

He didn’t try to grab me. Just his fingers hanging at his sides shook uncontrollably, his voice dry and raw.

“Seven years. You loved me for seven years. You can’t just let go that easy.”

He lifted his eyes to look at me—those eyes that once held nothing but arrogance were now bloodshot and full of begging.

“Virelle, you’re punishing me, aren’t you?”

I pried his fingers open one by one, hard.

“You’re not that important.

“Wasting even a second punishing a man like you isn’t worth my time.”

I turned to Tavion.

“Let’s go.”

Tavion nodded, slipped an arm around my shoulders, and walked with me toward the car parked at the curb.

Alarion stood rooted to the spot, watching me get into another man’s car.

As the window rolled up, I didn’t miss the way he collapsed heavily to his knees, and for a second it was like I was thrown back years ago.

Back when he’d been exiled by the Morvane family, kneeling in the rain, a wreck like a discarded dog.

Back then, I’d gotten out of the car and pulled him out of the mud.

But this time, I wasn’t getting out.