The Donna He Took for Granted Chapter 01
The moment I entered the boutique, Corrado got out and followed me.
He flung a woman’s coat at me hard enough to strike my face.
“Ottavia, you need to stop leaving your things everywhere.”
Corrado was obsessive about cleanliness and never allowed any of my belongings to remain in his car.
I glanced at the coat on the floor and answered calmly,
“That isn’t mine.”
His expression softened. Forgetting his usual disgust with anything unclean, he picked up the coat and folded it neatly.
I knew it belonged to Tessa.
Whenever Tessa deliberately left something behind, it became the spark for another vicious argument between Corrado and me.
This time, I did not complain.
I simply turned to the sales associate and gave her my phone number.
She greeted us with a bright smile.
“Your timing is perfect. Your gown and suit are both finished, so you can try them on today.”
Before I could refuse, Corrado, his face still cold after turning his anger on me, strode into the fitting room.
Ten minutes later,
I stood before him in my wedding gown.
His mouth twisted.
“Tacky.”
I did not argue. I only asked the associate to take a picture of me.
Corrado watched with visible impatience, but he was about to put an arm around me for the photo.
Then his phone rang.
It was the ringtone he had assigned only to Tessa.
She cried that her favorite coat had disappeared.
If some wonderful person found it and brought it back immediately, she promised him her heart and undying devotion.
Corrado ended the call and rushed out without even changing his clothes.
As his car disappeared, I picked up a pair of scissors and cut the wedding gown to pieces without hesitation.
At one thirty in the morning,
I was packing my belongings when a message appeared on my phone.
It came from Corrado.
Corrado:[I’m having drinks.]
After eight years together, he had finally volunteered to tell me where he was.
During those eight years, being Corrado’s fiancée had been only the smallest part of my role.
I managed the family foundation, kept the peace with senior members and allied families, and handled the Ventresca Group’s most difficult affairs.
Don Salvatore had named Corrado first in line largely because he believed I could help Corrado protect everything the family had built.
Everyone said I was the ideal wife for the Ventresca heir.
That was exactly why my presence had become a constant source of resentment for Corrado.
Tessa never discussed responsibility or reminded him what kind of heir he needed to become.
She only gazed at him with adoration, praising his power and cruelty.
I glanced at the cleaning gloves on my hands and left his message unanswered.
After taking out the trash, I showered and fell asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.
When Corrado came home the next day, he found me heading out with another trash bag.
He gave me a strange look.
“Is your phone broken?”
When I shook my head, his brow furrowed instinctively.
I knew why he had asked.
Whenever he stayed out late, I used to call and text until he responded.
But the night before, not a single call or anxious message from me had disturbed him.
Just as I reached the door, Corrado asked another question.
“Ottavia, where are the pictures that were on the wall?”
I glanced at the trash bag and was about to tell him the truth when his phone buzzed.
He bumped my shoulder aside, held down the voice-message button, and walked farther into the apartment.
“Easy, sweetheart. I’ll bring it over as soon as it’s ready.”
When I heard the shower turn on, I continued downstairs to throw out the trash.
My blood sugar crashed on the way back up.
Drenched in cold sweat, I reached the apartment and bit into one of the chocolate pastries Corrado had flown in from Paris.
His resentful voice cut through the room.
“Ottavia, are you some kind of starving animal?”
He swept the bitten pastry and the plate beneath it into the trash.
I stared at him and asked,
“I planned every meal you ate for eight years. When my blood sugar drops, am I not even allowed one bite of the breakfast you had flown across the Atlantic?”
His eyes turned hard.
“Taking something without asking is stealing.”
He put on his suit and slammed the door behind him.
Faced with another round of Corrado’s silent treatment,
I automatically picked up my phone and opened his social media profile.
He had changed the background photo.
It was a carefully posed photograph of Tessa wearing playful cat ears.
I liked the picture, then removed Corrado from my pinned contacts.
