The Dons Forbidden Wife

Serena's pov

"Mrs. Romano, without a deposit, we'll have to discontinue treatment ."

The words land like a slap.

I stand frozen in the narrow hospital corridor, the smell of antiseptic burning my nose. My fingers are clenched so tightly around the strap of my handbag that my knuckles ache. The doctor looks at me with that careful, practiced sympathy,the kind people reserve for someone they've already written off.

"How much time do I have?" I ask. My voice barely holds together.

"Today," he says gently. "Your mother needs surgery immediately. If we don't receive the deposit by this evening, the hospital administration will have no choice but to discharge her."

Discharge her? My heart lurches. "But she'll die," I whisper.

He doesn't deny it. He simply shakes his head and turns his attention back to the papers on his desk.

I stumble out of the office, my legs trembling as I fumble for my phone. Antonio will fix this. He always does. He has to, he's my husband, my partner. The man I built my entire life around.

I dial his number.

Voicemail!! My fingers ached...

I try again.

The person you are calling is unavailable.

My chest tightens, panic clawing up my throat. I force myself to breathe. Antonio has been busy lately, important meetings, powerful people, the Romano family finally recognizing his worth. He told me to be patient. He promised everything we sacrificed would pay off soon.

I step into the hospital lobby, my thoughts spinning, when a familiar voice echoes from the mounted television.

"-breaking business news this morning. Antonio Romano has officially been appointed as the new managing director of Romano Holdings-"

I stop dead.

The screen flashes to Antonio's face. My Antonio. Impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, he exuded confidence with every contour of his figure Cameras go off as he shakes hands with guys in fancy suits, reporters shouting his name like he's part of the scene

For a moment, the world tilts.

Then tears fill my eyes not from pain, but relief.

"Oh my God," I breathe, a shaky smile spreading across my face. "You did it."

Memories crash into me. Late nights waiting up for him. Selling my jewelry to cover rent. Quitting my job because he asked me to focus on our home, on him. Believing in him when even his own family dismissed him as weak.

And now he's finally at the top.

He can pay for my mother's surgery.

Everything is going to be okay.

I hurry outside, dialing him again, excitement buzzing through the fear.

Voicemail.

I frown, then shake my head. He's likely in the midst of a crowd, getting pats on the back I'll see him at home. I'll catch him off guard at the office later

As I turn back toward the elevators, I catch sight of a familiar figure striding ahead of me.

Antonio.

My heart leaps. "Antonio!" I call.

He doesn't turn.

He steps into the elevator just as the doors slide shut. I rush forward, but it's too late. I watch the numbers climb, my reflection staring back at me in the mirrored doors...hopeful, anxious, devoted.

I press the call button for the next elevator, my pulse racing.

When the doors open, I step inside and ride it up, barely registering the floor numbers lighting up until the doors slide open again.

Maternity Unit.

I frown.

Unease creeps in as I step out, following the sound of familiar laughter down the corridor.

Then I see him.

Antonio stands near the nurses' station, his arm wrapped protectively around a woman with a swollen belly stretched beneath a luxurious cream-colored dress. She's beautiful in an effortless, polished way. Designer heels, diamond bracelet catching the light. Her hand rests possessively over Antonio's chest.

They're smiling at each other.

Intimately.

My breath catches. "Antonio?"

My voice sounds wrong in my own ears.

He stiffens.

He turns slowly, his face draining of color when he sees me. Shock flashes across his features, then disappears-replaced by irritation.

"Serena," he says sharply, glancing at the woman beside him. "What are you doing here?"

My feet feel glued to the floor. "My... my mother is in this hospital," I say softly. "I told you last week. She's very sick."

The pregnant woman's gaze slides over me with cool curiosity, her lips curling faintly, like she's mildly amused by my existence.

My eyes burn as I gesture weakly between them. "Who is she?"

Antonio exhales, then takes my arm, guiding me a few steps away. His grip is gentle but firm.

"Lower your voice," he murmurs.

Lower my voice?

My heart pounds painfully. "Antonio, please. Just tell me the truth."

He looks at me then , he really looks at me and suddenly smiles. The smile he uses when he wants something from me.

"Don't overthink this," he says softly. "She's Isabella Black. The hidden heiress everyone's been talking about."

I blink. "The... Black family?"

"Yes," he says smoothly. "I was assigned to assist her. That's all. It's work, Serena."

My gaze flicks back to her whose hand still rests on Antonio's chest like it belongs there.

"And the baby?" I whisper.

His eyes soften. "Part of the arrangement. It's complicated. You wouldn't understand."

The words sting more than I expect.

He squeezes my arm. "Come to my office later. We'll talk properly. I promise."

For a moment, I want to scream. To cry. To demand answers.

Instead, I nod.

Because I trust him.

Because I always have.

I leave the maternity ward feeling like I'm moving through water, my thoughts tangled, my heart bruised but still stubbornly hopeful.

He'll explain, I tell myself. He always does.

I visit my mother briefly, holding her frail hand and lying through a smile. "Antonio's doing well," I tell her. "He'll come soon."

Then I leave for Antonio's office.

The Romano Holdings building towers over the city, all glass and steel, power made physical. I smooth my dress as I step inside, nerves fluttering with anticipation and dread.

The elevator carries me up.

When I reach his floor, I notice his office door is slightly ajar.

Laughter drifts out.

Female laughter.

My steps slow.

I push the door open.

Antonio is kissing Isabella.

A deep, unrestrained kiss, not a quick, careless one. His hand gently holds her pregnant belly as if it's something precious She giggles quietly in his ear, her fingers weaving through his locks.

My bag slips from my fingers and hits the floor with a dull thud.

Antonio breaks the kiss and turns.

Our eyes meet, his cold now, calculating, stripped of every lie.

Isabella follows his gaze and smiles.

Slow. Cruel. Victorious.

Antonio straightens, adjusting his suit like I'm nothing more than an inconvenience.

"Perfect timing," he says flatly.

My heart shatters.

"I was just about to end this."

Serena's pov

I don't move.

I think maybe my body hasn't caught up to what just happened. Antonio's last words still hang in the air, sharp and unfinished, like he cut a wire and walked away before the sparks could die down.

I was just about to end this.

Someone says my name.

"Serena, are you okay?

The voice seems distant , like it's coming through water. I blink and realize I'm still standing just inside Antonio's office floor, right where my bag hit the ground. The glass walls stretch around me on all sides...transparent, spotless, unforgiving. I can see everything, and worse, everyone can see me.

Executives hover near their offices. Assistants pause mid-step. A few people pretend to be busy, eyes glued to tablets or phones that aren't fooling anyone. Others don't even bother pretending. They just watch.

I'm still clutching my phone in one hand, the screen dark, my thumb hovering uselessly where I kept redialing his number earlier today. I don't remember lowering it. I don't remember breathing.

Whispers ripple through the space. Soft, quick, poisonous.

No one meets my eyes.

I feel wrong here. Like I walked into a room where the rules changed while I wasn't looking. My dress suddenly feels too simple, my shoes too worn. My tears, God!!!, my tears are still streaking my face, hot and impossible to hide.

I lift my head because I feel movement more than I see it.

Antonio is walking toward me.

Not rushing, Not concerned.

He looks relaxed and Confident, Like this is just another meeting he's late for. There's a smile on his face, but it's not meant for me. It slides past me, directed at the people watching, the ones who matter now.

My stomach twists.

He stops a few feet away.

Doesn't touch me, he doesn't lower his voice nor even say my name, this sent shivers down my spine .

Instead, he turns slightly and gestures behind him, casual, practiced.

Isabella steps forward.

She looks exactly like she did in the maternity ward, except now she belongs here. Cream dress, perfect hair, calm smile. Her belly is unmistakable, round and prominent beneath her hand.

Antonio's hand settles on her stomach.

Possessive and Proud.

"This is Isabella Black," he says clearly, his voice carrying through the glass-walled floor. "My wife."

The word hits me harder than any slap could.

Wife???

My mind blanks, like someone pulled the plug. I stare at his mouth, waiting for him to correct himself, to laugh, to say this is some sick misunderstanding.

Nothing comes.

Isabella looks at me, her eyes skim my face, my clothes, my tears, and something like satisfaction flickers there. Not triumph. She's past that.

She's already won.

"And," Antonio adds casually, like he's sharing a bonus detail, "she's carrying my baby."

The room tilts.

I grab the edge of a nearby desk to keep myself upright. My fingers slide against the smooth surface, useless.

"This... this is a joke," I say quietly. My voice barely carries, but the silence makes it loud anyway. "Right?"

Antonio's smile shifts.

It turns sharp. Mocking.

He leans in just enough that I can smell his cologne, the one I bought him years ago when we couldn't afford it. His voice drops, but not enough. Everyone can still hear.

"You always did struggle with reality, Serena," he says. "That's one of your many flaws."

My chest tightens. "Antonio"

"I settled for you," he continues, like he's reciting facts from a report. "You were convenient. Obedient. You didn't ask for much. You knew your place."

Each word lands heavy and deliberate.

"You embarrassed me," he says. "In elite circles, you stood out and not in a good way. You didn't belong."

I shake my head, tears spilling faster now. "That's not true. We built everything together. I..."

"You supported me because you had nothing else," he cuts in. "Don't romanticize it."

He straightens slightly, gesturing between us. "Isabella is my equal. She understands the world I'm in. She enhances my image."

Isabella's fingers curl lightly around his sleeve, subtle but claiming.

"And my promotion?" Antonio goes on. "Romano Holdings didn't finally take me seriously because of hard work alone. It came because of her. Because of her family background ."

The truth sinks in slowly, cruelly.

Everything I gave up, my job, my savings,My pride. All of it meant nothing.

Tears slip down my chin, unstoppable, humiliating. I swipe at them, but it doesn't matter. Everyone sees.

Antonio doesn't stop talking.

He straightens fully now, his voice rising, projecting. "Serena Romano is no longer associated with me or this company."

A ripple of attention sharpens. Phones shift in hands. Someone actually lifts theirs, angling for a better view.

"She's a liability," he says. "A financial burden. I can't reach the top with dead weight dragging me down."

Isabella's hand tightens on his arm, her nails pressing into the fabric.

I feel eyes everywhere, Judging me like I was a piece of trash . I become painfully aware of how I'm standing, how I'm shaking, how small I must look next to them.

Antonio reaches into a folder he's holding and pulls out a stack of papers.

He shoves them into my hands.

I almost drop them. My fingers are shaking so badly the pages crinkle.

I don't need to read them.

The word "divorce "jumps out immediately, bold and unmistakable.

My breath stutters.

I look up at him, stunned. "My mother," I whisper. "She's in surgery."

For a split second, something flickers across his face.

Then it hardens.

"That's no longer my problem," he says.

Two security guards step closer.

Phones rise higher.

Isabella leans in and whispers something to Antonio. I can't hear it, but he nods once, already stepping back, already creating distance like I'm contagious.

The room feels smaller. The glass walls close in.

"Escort her out," Antonio orders coldly.

My grip tightens on the divorce papers as the world narrows to that one command, and I realize, with sick clarity, that I have never been more alone in my life.

Serena's pov

"I don't want to see your filthy, broke self around me or my wife ever again."

Antonio's voice cuts through everything.

The guards grab my arms before I can react. Their hands are firm, unyielding, like I'm already a problem they've been warned about. My body jerks forward as they pull me, my heels scraping against the polished floor.

I stumble.

Someone laughs.

People don't pretend anymore. They stare. Some lift their phones openly, angling for a better shot. I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in the glass...hair messy, face wet, eyes too wide.

Antonio raises his voice deliberately, projecting.

"She drained me for years," he says, shaking his head like I'm a cautionary tale. "Broke, Useless and Dead weight."

My chest tightens. I try to speak, but nothing comes out.

"Disposable," he adds, amused.

I twist my head back over my shoulder, desperate, stupid, hoping he'll look at me one last time.

He doesn't.

He grabs Isabella, wrapping his arm around her waist .He gives her a soft, lingering peck on the cheek, taking his time.

Isabella smiles sheepishly...

Soft, Sweet and Victorious.

The guards steer me toward the exit. The glass doors stand ahead, clear and unforgiving.

I look back one last time.

Antonio has already turned away.

The doors slide shut behind me.

The sound is quiet.

Final.

Outside, the city crashes into me. There was a buzz, people moving about as if the world hadn't stopped .I stand there for a heartbeat, clutching the divorce papers so tightly they bend, then I run.

I don't remember how I get back to the hospital.

I know my lungs burn. I know my hands shake so badly I almost drop my phone twice. I know people stare as I push past them, but I don't care.

My mother's room is dim when I rush in. She's lying there, all pale and fragile, with her chest barely moving up and down. The Machines are quietly buzzing by her, totally unbothered.

I grab her hand.

It's cold.

"Mom," I whisper. "I'm here."

My throat closes. I force a smile she can't see. "They're going to start the surgery. Everything's going to be okay."

The lie feels heavy in my mouth.

The doctor steps in quietly. The same careful expression. The same distance.

"I'm ready to make the deposit," I say quickly, cutting him off. "Please. Just start the surgery."

At the billing desk, my hands shake as I swipe my card.

Beep.

Declined.

"That's wrong," I say. "Try again."

Beep.

Declined.

My heart starts to race. I pull out another card. Then another.

Declined.

Declined.

"There has to be a mistake," I say, my voice cracking. "I have savings. Please."

"I'm sorry," the doctor says, gentle but firm. "We can't proceed without payment."

Panic crawls up my throat, thick and suffocating.

A billing clerk types something, then pauses.

"Mrs. Romano," she says carefully. "Your accounts are frozen."

Frozen.

"What do you mean frozen?" I whisper.

She hesitates. "All funds were transferred earlier today. To a foreign account."

The room tilts.

My hands tremble as I check my balance.

Zero.

I stumble back, barely managing to get out of the hospital before the walls feel like they're closing in. I don't even remember crossing the street before I'm inside the bank, slamming my hands on the counter.

"I need answers," I say. "Now."

The accountant looks up, then freezes when she sees my name.

"Yes," she says quietly. "Mrs. Romano. Your husband was here earlier."

My stomach drops. "He what?"

"He authorized the transfers."

"That's impossible," I say. "I didn't sign anything."

She slides a folder toward me. "The documents are here."

I read every page.

The signatures are close but wrong. The dates were altered. Sloppy.

"They're forged," I whisper.

She doesn't meet my eyes.

My hands shake as I dial Antonio.

He answers almost immediately.

"What do you want?" he says, irritated.

"My savings," I say, my voice breaking. "You took my savings. Why?"

There's a pause.

Then he laughs.

"Because I could," he says. "They're gone, Serena. Deal with it."

"You had no right," I say. "That money was mine. I need it. My mother..."

"That's not my problem anymore," he cuts in. "You should've thought about that before embarrassing me."

My chest tightens. "You planned this."

"Yes," he says calmly. "And if I were you, I'd stop calling before you make things worse."

I hear movement on the other end. A soft sound. Fabric. A breath.

Then the phone shifts.

Isabella's voice replaces his.

"Don't call again," she says calmly. "We know where your mother is."

My blood turns cold.

"Enjoy your miserable, lonely life," she adds softly.

The call ends.

I stand there in the middle of the bank lobby as people brush past me like I don't exist.

I walk outside.

The sun is too bright. The noise too loud.

The world spins.

My knees buckle.

And this time, my body finally gives up.