The Donna’s Stolen Christmas Was For Her Don’s First Love Chapter 09

The Donna’s Stolen Christmas Was For Her Don’s First Love Chapter 09

Word of Fabrizio trying to buy me the pastry shop traveled back to the Santapaola family fast.

His mother called me personally. Her tone was much softer than before.

“Fabrizio hasn’t been himself lately. He wasn’t trying to control you. He just doesn’t know how to express himself.”

I poured flour into a mixing bowl, speaking toward the phone on speaker. “You have the wrong number.”

A sigh came through from the other end.

“I was wrong about everything before. Marcella’s father once saved Fabrizio’s grandfather, and I always felt the Santapaola family owed her a debt. But then she took that recording and used it to pressure the Mazzei elders into backing her. That’s when I finally saw what she really was.”

My hands paused in the dough.

Fabrizio’s mother continued. “Yesterday she told Fabrizio that if he didn’t marry her, she would expose everything about the Santapaola family. Fabrizio already has the family lawyers handling it.”

I said, “None of this has anything to do with me anymore.”

“I know.” Her voice sounded like it had aged years. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

—

I had waited five years for that apology.

Now that I heard it, all I noticed was that the dough in my hands was a little too sticky.

I hung up. Ruby poked her head in from the doorway. “Who was that?”

“The Santapaola family.”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

I found a different storefront. Not the original one.

On opening day, my mother sat behind the register. Ruby handled the customers.

When the first batch of Panettone came out of the oven, Fabrizio showed up.

He didn’t come inside. He just stood across the street.

Ruby spotted him and rolled her eyes. “He’s not going to do this every day, is he?”

I slid a pastry into a paper bag without looking up. “Let him.”

That afternoon, a car pulled up in front of the shop.

Marcella stepped out wearing sunglasses, flanked by two Mazzei family bodyguards.

She took off the sunglasses, revealing swollen, red-rimmed eyes. “Camilla, can we talk?”

—

Ruby immediately stepped in front of me. “We have nothing to discuss with you.”

Marcella clenched her jaw. “I came to apologize.”

I looked at her. “Then apologize.”

She clearly hadn’t expected me to actually let her do it.

Passersby on the sidewalk were already turning to watch.

One of the bodyguards leaned in and muttered, “Hurry up. The Santapaola family already issued their final warning. If this keeps going, the Mazzei family won’t be able to protect you either.”

Marcella gripped her purse strap, the words sounding like they were being squeezed from her throat.

“I’m sorry.”

I asked, “Sorry for what?”

Her eyes reddened. “Camilla, don’t push it!”

At that moment, Fabrizio crossed the street and walked over.

The instant Marcella saw him, her voice turned soft. “Fabrizio, I already apologized.”

Fabrizio didn’t even glance at her. He handed a document to one of the bodyguards.

“Miss Mazzei has been spreading false statements and harassing my

—

ex-wife. The Santapaola family will pursue this to the fullest extent.”

Marcella went white. “You’re suing me? For her?”

Fabrizio’s gaze finally landed on her.

“Not for her. For myself. I woke up too late.”

Marcella shook her head, crying. “You told me before. You said as long as I came back, we’d still be family.”

Fabrizio’s voice was steady. “Marcella, I’ve owed a lot of people. But the worst thing I ever did was use her life to make up for what I owed you.”

The Mazzei bodyguards pulled Marcella away.

Her struggling cries faded into the distance.

Fabrizio stood at the doorway and said quietly, “Camilla, there are three days left in the cooling-off period. After that, I’ll be waiting in the conference room at headquarters.”

I looked up at him. “Fine.”

Something lit up in his eyes.

Then I added, “After the paperwork is done, don’t come here again.”

—

The light in his eyes flickered and dimmed.

“You’re really not going to give me another chance?”

“Fabrizio, I gave you five years. You spent them looking elsewhere.”

“I was blind. I was stupid. I thought I could have both—duty and comfort. But I never saw what was right in front of me.”

“Then that’s your loss.”

He stood there, the Sicilian sun casting long shadows across the cobblestones.

I turned back to the shop. Ruby was watching from inside, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

“Camilla,” Fabrizio said behind me.

I paused.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to earn it anyway.”

I didn’t turn around.

“Goodbye, Fabrizio.”

I walked inside and let the door close behind me.

The bell chimed softly.

And for the first time in five years, I didn’t look back.