The Donna’s Stolen Christmas Was For Her Don’s First Love Chapter 04

The Donna’s Stolen Christmas Was For Her Don’s First Love Chapter 04

Fabrizio stood in the doorway of the study, his eyes locked on the contract in my hand.

He walked in and pulled it from my grip.

“Camilla, going through my private drawers is beneath the dignity of a Donna.”

It felt like someone had sucked the last breath of air from my chest.

“Marcella lived in that wing when she was young. She just wants something familiar to help stabilize her emotions. It doesn’t affect you.”

“What about me?”

Fabrizio paused. “You’re the Donna of the Santapaola family. You don’t need these kinds of gestures.”

There it was again.

Donna. Be sensible. Step aside. Keep up appearances. A perfectly packaged excuse.

“Let me see the photos.”

“Camilla! Enough.”

Just then, his phone rang. His mother.

Fabrizio answered and listened quietly for a few moments.

Then his gaze settled on me.

“There’s a family gathering at the Noto Valley estate tonight. Some of the Mazzei family elders will be there too. My mother wants us to come back.”

He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“The elders from the Mazzei family heard about the necklace. Go apologize to Marcella, and we can put this whole thing behind us.”

“And if I don’t go?”

Fabrizio placed the tin box back in the drawer and locked it.

“Then I’ll have the driver bring your mother to the Noto Valley estate tomorrow.”

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

“Don’t misunderstand. I just think it would help you calm down if the older generation had a conversation.”

I looked at him and slowly nodded.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

He seemed to exhale with relief. “That’s my Donna.”

That evening, I changed into a white dress.

When Fabrizio saw me, something flickered in his eyes. “Why are you wearing that dress?”

“Is it not appropriate?”

He was quiet for two seconds.

“It’s fine.”

When we arrived at the estate, the driveway was lined with luxury cars.

Fabrizio was in the living room greeting the Mazzei family elders. Marcella sat beside him, a new necklace glinting at her throat.

The moment she saw me walk in, she stood and smiled. “Donna, I’m so glad you could make it. Since everyone’s here, let’s clear up yesterday’s misunderstanding.”

Fabrizio pressed his hand lightly against the small of my back. “Go on.”

I didn’t move.

His mother’s expression darkened. “Camilla! Don’t embarrass the Santapaola family.”

One of the Mazzei family wives smiled and said, “The Donna is still young. A little jealousy is normal. But the bond Marcella and Fabrizio share from growing up together isn’t something a newcomer can compete with.”

Fabrizio leaned close and whispered, “Say something.”

I looked up at him. “Say what?”

Marcella’s eyes reddened again. “Donna, it’s okay. Please don’t make things harder for the Don.”

Fabrizio turned to her, his voice going soft.

“No one would dare let you be mistreated.”

I spoke before I could stop myself. “Fabrizio, why did you marry me?”

The living room went dead silent.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t the time for that conversation.”

“I want to know.”

Fabrizio’s mother cut in, her voice cold and sharp. “It’s simple. Marcella had married and moved to America that year. The former Don pressured Fabrizio to stabilize the family’s position. Your family had a clean background. You were a suitable choice for the Santapaola Donna.”

Fabrizio’s expression shifted. “Mom!”

I looked at him.

And finally understood the truth.

Marcella murmured, “Please stop. The Donna will be hurt.”

Fabrizio’s mother sighed as though the whole situation was simply beyond her control.

“Fabrizio hasn’t mistreated her all these years. She’s had the Donna’s seat for a full five years.”

Fabrizio stepped forward, reaching for my hand.

“Camilla, don’t listen to my mother. Let’s settle things tonight, and we can talk properly when we get home.”

I looked at his outstretched hand. I didn’t pull away.

But the moment his fingertips touched mine, Marcella reached into her bag and produced the old tin box.

“Don, I’d like to return this to you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You told me once that when I came back, you’d spend every Christmas with me.”

Fabrizio’s hand froze in midair.

Every pair of eyes in the room landed on that tin box.

I looked down at the cake sticker on the lid, and it finally hit me.

The first burned Panettone was never mine.

Fabrizio finally spoke. “Marcella, put it away.”

Marcella flinched as if startled, her fingers tightening around the box.

“I’m sorry, did I say the wrong thing again? I was only trying to prove that there was never anything between us.”

I didn’t respond to any of it.

I simply reached into my bag and pulled out a document.

When Fabrizio saw the cover page, his pupils contracted sharply.

“Why did you bring that here?”

I placed the divorce agreement on the table.

“Since the elders of both families are here tonight, there’s no need to waste time notifying everyone individually.”

“Fabrizio, sign them!”

His gaze settled on the papers.

He didn’t move.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Then…

He slowly lifted his eyes to meet mine.

When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Camilla…”

“Do you really want me to sign them?”