The Don’s Regretful Betrayal

(Bianca’s POV) I had been in a secret relationship with Antonio Armani, the heir to the powerful Armani Family, for three years when I discovered I was pregnant. At first, I saw genuine happiness on his face, and not long after, the future Don slipped a ring onto my finger. I thought all the years I had spent waiting for him had finally meant something. I thought Antonio had finally chosen me, not as a woman kept in the shadows, but as the woman who would stand beside him when he took his father's place. But five months into my pregnancy, I went to the Armani Family headquarters to deliver a set of confidential documents. The compound was heavily guarded as usual, with armed soldiers stationed at the entrance and capos moving through the marble halls. I made my way toward Antonio's private room, expecting to find him handling family business. Instead, when I opened the door, I found the future Don sitting behind his desk with another woman comfortably perched on his lap. His hand rested possessively on her waist while his lips brushed against her neck. The sight shattered everything I believed we were building together. “Gianna, once she gives birth, we'll have our wedding, alright?” he murmured. “You're the only woman I want beside me for the rest of my life.” That woman was Gianna Caruso, his former lover. The woman who had left him years ago because she never wanted children. She preferred becoming a stepmother rather than carrying a child herself. Only then did I realize the truth. Antonio had dated me and even proposed to me, but not because he loved me. He did it because I was the fool who would give him anything he wanted, even an heir to carry on the Armani bloodline. To him, I was simply the easiest way to get everything he wanted: a child from me and a future with the woman he had never stopped loving. The man I had loved for ten years had never once returned my feelings. All those years had not softened his heart toward me. They had only given him enough time to learn how to use mine. In the end, he had never truly wanted me. He wanted what I could give him. My womb. Nothing more. If Antonio wanted to break my heart, then so be it. But before I walked away, I had two decisions to make. First, I would terminate this pregnancy. I refused to bring a child into the world simply to serve as an heir for a man like him or become another piece in the Armani Family’s bloodline. Second, I would disappear completely. I would leave his world, his family, and everything that had tied me to him, and I would make sure Antonio Armani regretted losing me for the rest of his life. I pulled out my phone and booked the procedure without a second thought. Then I dialed the one number I had never managed to forget. “You once said you'd marry me,” I said quietly. “Does that offer still stand?” “Always,” the man replied without hesitation. *** By the time the call ended, the sounds coming from the capo's office had finally gone silent. My hands felt numb as I returned to the conference room. Forcing myself into a chair, I buried myself in paperwork and discussed business matters with my assistant while fighting the nausea twisting inside my stomach. I had no idea how much time passed before the office door finally opened. Antonio and Gianna emerged one after another. He had changed into a fresh suit jacket, but not a new shirt. A faint lipstick mark still lingered near his collar. Gianna had fixed her makeup, yet the blush on her face remained impossible to hide. I immediately stood, ready to leave. But before I could, Gianna approached with a bright smile. “Woah, Signora Mancini! I didn't expect to see you here. Today's actually my first day working for the Armani Family. What a coincidence.” I had no interest in speaking with her. But as she walked toward me carrying a cup of hot water, she suddenly stumbled. “Ah!” The glass shattered across the floor. I stepped aside in time, but Gianna collapsed dramatically against the conference table. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. “Bianca, did I do something wrong?” she asked pitifully. “Why would you trip me?” The performance was so obvious that I couldn't even bring myself to answer. Unfortunately, Antonio was already beside her. He helped her up immediately, looking at her full of concern. “Gianna, are you hurt?” Then he looked at me. His expression hardened. “Bianca Mancini,” he said coldly, “you're pregnant. You should be taking care of yourself instead of causing trouble around headquarters. Being pregnant doesn't give you the right to attack new staff members.” He didn't ask a single question. He didn't wait for an explanation. The moment Gianna accused me, he had already decided I was guilty. “I didn't trip her,” I said softly. Antonio's eyes narrowed. “So you're claiming she fell on her own?” Every word pierced straight through my chest, and as I watched Antonio and Gianna standing so close together, a deep exhaustion settled over me. I no longer had the strength to argue or defend myself, so I covered my mouth and hurried toward the restroom. The moment I reached the sink, I could no longer hold it back. I gripped the counter tightly and vomited until tears blurred my vision, my body shaking from the strain. Then a loud sound echoed behind me as the restroom door was suddenly pushed open. I looked up in the mirror. Antonio had walked inside. He frowned. “Amore, I didn't mean to speak so harshly earlier. There were soldiers and staff outside. I couldn't make things obvious. Besides, even if you didn't mean it, Gianna got hurt because of what happened.” His voice softened. He even reached out to support me. “Go home and get some rest. Don't work too hard. The baby needs you healthy. I'll come home tonight and spend time with you, alright?” I slowly straightened. Then I forced a faint smile. “Understood, Don Armani.” His hand stopped halfway. I had never called him that before. I had always been the clingy one, calling him Antonio or sometimes even husband when we were alone. I hated calling him Don Armani because the title felt so distant and formal, as if I were no longer the woman he loved but simply another person standing before the head of the Armani Family. It sounded like there was a wall between us, one I had never wanted to exist. For a brief moment, surprise flashed across his face. Then the sound of high heels echoed from outside. A second later, another employee entered the restroom area. Antonio immediately released me. The warmth vanished from his expression. “Bianca Mancini,” he said sharply, “please remember where you are. This is family headquarters, not your home. Whatever relationship you have with your husband is your private matter. Do not behave inappropriately with me during work hours.” Your husband. Behave inappropriately. His words felt like ice water poured over my head. Without another glance in my direction, Antonio turned and walked away. He was eager to put distance between us. Eager to make sure everyone knew there was nothing special between us. I stood there alone, gently resting a hand on my stomach. For a very long time, no tears came. I simply stared at my reflection in silence.

(Bianca’s POV) Antonio had never publicly acknowledged our relationship. For three years, I had been his woman, yet to the outside world, the future Don of the Armani Family remained a single man—charming, composed, and untouchable. I never questioned why he kept me hidden. Back then, simply being with him felt like enough. I had fallen for Antonio in high school after he stepped in front of me when a bully threw boiling water my way. Ten years had passed since then, yet my feelings for him had never faded. Three years ago, after Antonio and Gianna ended their relationship, he spent several nights drinking himself senseless. I followed him to one of the family's underground clubs, enduring the thick smoke, loud music, and endless chatter of made men because I couldn't bear to leave him alone. That night, somewhere between drunken frustration and heartbreak, he looked at me and asked if I wanted to be with him. I knew he wasn't asking because he loved me. I knew he was hurting and trying to get over Gianna. Even so, I couldn't refuse him. I convinced myself that if I loved him enough and treated him well enough, one day he would return those feelings. Looking back now, I realized how wrong I had been. At home, I watched the hours crawl by until midnight came and went without any sign of Antonio. Then my phone lit up with a message. [Amore, I have a meeting with some associates tonight. I'll be home late. Don't wait for me. Get some sleep.] Unfortunately for him, I had already seen Gianna's social media story. The photo showed a man carrying her on his back. Although the image was blurry, I recognized Antonio immediately. The caption read: [Still the perfect husband material. I'm honestly getting emotional. Should I accept his proposal?] So that was his important meeting. He hadn't just spent the evening with her. He had proposed to her. Not the vague promises he occasionally gave me whenever I talked about the future, but a real proposal—the kind a man makes when he genuinely wants to spend his life with someone. As I stared at the photo, I felt like I had been transported back to my school days, standing on the sidelines while watching the two of them together. A sharp pain suddenly twisted through my stomach, forcing me to put my phone down. I was already planning to leave him. There was no reason to keep torturing myself. Getting up from the couch, I began packing away everything that represented our relationship. The matching toothbrushes, the couple mugs, the decorative pillows I had carefully chosen for our home—all of it went into a trash bag. I had just tied it shut when the front door opened. Antonio walked in and immediately noticed the bag. “Amore, didn't you like those things?” he asked. “Why are you throwing them away?” I lowered my eyes and kept my voice calm. “They've gotten old. I'm tired of them.” Part of me hoped he would notice something was wrong and ask another question. He didn't. As usual, he wasn't paying enough attention. Instead, he walked over and rested a hand on my stomach. “Were you good today, little one?” he murmured softly. “Daddy's home.” The sight would have touched me once. Antonio looked every bit like the perfect father—gentle, patient, and affectionate. I used to believe that if he loved our baby so much, then some part of him must love me too. Maybe he simply wasn't good at expressing his feelings. Now I understood the truth. His love was for the child. Not for the woman carrying it. “Amore,” he said, “you're still upset about what happened at headquarters, aren't you? Don't be angry that I didn't tell you Gianna was joining the organization. She's between jobs, so I'm helping her out for a while. It's only temporary.” Only then did he seem to notice that I hadn't taken his coat from him like I always did. His tone softened as he stepped closer. “Are you jealous?” he asked with a small smile. “You don't need to worry. Gianna is part of my past. I don't have feelings for her anymore. I have you now.” I almost laughed at the irony. If I hadn't walked into Antonio's private office earlier, if I hadn't heard him promising Gianna a future, and if I hadn't seen the truth with my own eyes, I might have believed him. I might have been touched by his words and found comfort when he leaned in and gently kissed my cheek a moment later. But now, every kind word, every gentle touch, and every promise felt less like love and more like a lie meant to keep me by his side.

(Bianca’s POV) The next morning, my assistant informed me that the procedure had been arranged. “Signorina, are you really not going to tell Don Armani? You're already this far along.” “There’s no need.” My hand rested lightly on my stomach. It almost felt as if the baby could sense my decision. The little movements that usually reassured me had become rare, leaving only an unsettling silence. The truth was, until yesterday, I had still believed I was living a happy life. Antonio had always been skilled at hiding things. If he wanted to keep seeing Gianna behind my back, he probably could have continued for years without me ever discovering the truth. But he became careless. Maybe he thought the pregnancy had progressed too far for me to leave. Maybe he believed I had invested too much of my life in him to walk away. Unfortunately for him, he was wrong. I had spent ten years loving him. I started waiting for him when I was sixteen years old. I waited through years of unreturned feelings, through three years of being his hidden lover, and through a pregnancy that I thought would finally make us a family. Waiting was never the problem. Being used was. I could accept loving someone who didn't love me back, but I could not accept being treated as nothing more than a woman chosen to give him an heir before he handed his future to someone else. Before going to the hospital, I stopped at a shopping center near the medical district to get something to eat. The moment I stepped inside, a familiar voice reached my ears. “This section deserves more attention. Luxury local brands have been performing better than expected.” My body stiffened. Looking up, I immediately saw Antonio standing a short distance away. Beside him was Gianna. They were surrounded by several senior capos, family advisers, and trusted men from the Armani Family, all of them following Antonio as he inspected one of the family's properties. From the armed guards at the entrance to the men waiting for his orders, it was clear that this was not an ordinary business visit. It was the Don's territory, and everyone there knew it. A dull ache settled in my chest. I was about to leave when an overly cheerful voice stopped me. “Oh, Signora Mancini! What a coincidence.” Gianna walked toward me in her heels, wearing the same polished smile she used whenever she wanted something. Before I could respond, the shopping center's director hurried over. His face lit up the moment he saw them. “Don Armani, Signorina Armani, welcome. Please come this way. We've prepared the new section for your review.” “Please call me Gianna,” she replied gracefully. “Business is business. Let's keep personal matters separate.” Although her words were directed at the director, her eyes briefly shifted toward me. The meaning was impossible to miss. My hands slowly curled into fists. Antonio had hidden me for three years. Yet before our child was even born, Gianna was already being introduced as his future wife in front of important business partners. “Signora Mancini, you'll keep this confidential, won't you?” Gianna continued with a playful smile. “Nobody inside the organization knows about our engagement yet. Antonio and I want to make the announcement after the wedding. You won't tell anyone, right?” She spoke to me as though I were nothing more than another member of the Armani Family, as if she had no idea that I was carrying Antonio's child. I glanced at Antonio, and for a brief second, guilt flashed across his face. But beneath it was the familiar warning I knew too well, the silent message he didn't need to say aloud. Don't cause trouble. The realization hurt more than I expected. Even so, I forced a smile onto my face and pretended that none of it mattered. “Of course. I won't say anything.” After all, once the procedure was done, I would be leaving. Whatever happened between Antonio and Gianna would no longer concern me. “I knew I could trust you, Signora Mancini,” Gianna said brightly. “By the way, what are you doing here by yourself? Where's your husband?” There was a victorious gleam in her eyes as she linked her arm through mine as if we were close friends. “All these reports and numbers make me nervous,” she added. “Everyone here is a man. Stay with me for a while, won't you?” I carefully removed her hand from my arm and avoided looking at Antonio. “I don't have a husband.” For a moment, Antonio's expression darkened. The reaction disappeared almost instantly. “Since you're already here,” he said coldly, “show Gianna around. She's still learning how our operations work.” Without waiting for my answer, he turned and walked away with the director and the others. I frowned and tried to create more distance between myself and Gianna. The moment Antonio disappeared from sight, her smile vanished. She leaned closer, her voice dropping into a sharp whisper. “Bianca, I know you're his fiancée. So what?” My body tensed. “You were only chosen because you could give him a child,” she continued. “Antonio belongs to me. Once that baby is born, I'll be the woman standing beside him as Donna Armani.” Coldness spread through my entire body. “Let go of me.” I pushed her hand away, but the movement was light, barely enough to make anyone lose her balance. Yet Gianna suddenly cried out and stumbled backward as if I had shoved her with all my strength. She crashed into a woman carrying a baby, sending both mother and child tumbling to the floor. The baby immediately burst into tears, and the woman's shock quickly turned into fury as she looked up at me. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” she shouted. “You're pregnant and you're still pushing people around? Do you want someone to get hurt?” I immediately stepped forward. “I didn't—” But Gianna cut me off. Tears filled her eyes almost instantly. Her shoulders trembled as though she were terrified. “I'm so sorry,” she cried. “This is all my fault. The Underboss didn't mean it. Please don't blame her. It was my fault. Please, if you're angry, be angry with me instead.” That woman's expression became even uglier as every eye in the area turned toward me.

(Bianca’s POV) The woman's face darkened with anger as she pointed directly at me. “An Underboss? You're an Underboss in the Armani Family?” she demanded. “You're her superior, yet you treated her like this and then tried to blame her for it? How does someone like you get such a position?” “I didn't—” My chest felt tight, making it difficult to breathe. I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell her the truth. But before I could, Antonio arrived. His gaze immediately landed on Gianna sitting on the floor and the crying child nearby. The ambience around him seemed to drop instantly. “What happened here?” Gianna answered before anyone else could. She explained that I had accidentally pushed her, causing her to lose balance and crash into the woman carrying the baby. Holding her ankle, she winced softly. “I think I twisted it,” she said. “But I'm alright. Please don't blame Signorina Mancini. She didn't mean for any of this to happen.” Antonio turned toward me. His eyes were burning with anger. “Bianca Mancini, what is wrong with you?” he snapped. “You couldn't even handle something this simple? Why would you push her?” “I didn't push her.” “I don't care. Apologize to Gianna. Right now.” I stood motionless. Of course he believed Gianna. Just like he always did. My hand instinctively covered my stomach. This time, however, I refused to lower my head. “I won't apologize for something I didn't do.” My voice trembled, but I didn't look away. I was leaving anyway. I was tired of constantly begging for understanding from a man who never gave it. Surprise flashed across Antonio's face. He clearly hadn't expected me to defy him. Before he could say anything else, the furious woman suddenly shoved me. “You shameless woman!” she shouted. “No wonder you're raising trouble already. If you can't even admit your mistakes, get out of here!” The force sent me crashing onto the floor. A sharp pain exploded through my stomach, and everything around me suddenly blurred. The angry voices faded into the distance, replaced by a loud ringing in my ears. Through my fading vision, I vaguely saw Antonio take a step toward me, and for one brief moment, I thought he was going to help. But he stopped, his expression unreadable, before turning toward Gianna. The next second, he bent down, lifted her into his arms, and carried her away, leaving me standing there alone with the pain tearing through my body. “Think about what you've done, Bianca.” Those were the last words he left behind. I remained on the cold marble floor, clutching my stomach as wave after wave of pain tore through my body. People quickly gathered around me, filling the space with whispers and accusing looks. Some pointed at me, while others pulled out their phones to record what was happening. A few simply stood there and watched without saying a word, as if my pain were nothing more than a spectacle. Their voices and murmurs soon blended into a distant hum that I could barely hear. Meanwhile, the pain only grew worse. It felt as though something inside me was being ripped apart. Eventually, someone realized the situation was serious and called an ambulance. By the time I reached the hospital, doctors and nurses were rushing around me. “Where are her family members?” “Her condition is unstable.” “Someone contact the father immediately.” “Do we prioritize the mother or the baby if complications occur?” A nurse grabbed my phone. “Signora, what's the father's number?” I bit down on my lip and recited Antonio's number. The call connected almost immediately. For a moment, I thought he might be worried. I was wrong. The moment he answered, anger exploded through the speaker. “Bianca, have you completely lost your mind?” he shouted. “What exactly did you do to Gianna? Her ankle is badly swollen. The doctor thinks it might be fractured. All because of your jealousy.” My body was shaking uncontrollably. “I didn't...” I whispered. “She fell by herself.” “Oh, stop it. You're angry because she introduced herself as my wife, aren't you? Do you seriously believe that? It was a joke.” A joke? Just a joke? My fingers tightened around the hospital blanket. Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. “Antonio...” My voice cracked. “The baby...” Before I could finish, the line went dead. He had hung up. Slowly, I turned toward the doctor standing beside my bed. A painful smile appeared on my lips. “Forget the baby,” I whispered. “Please save me.” The doctor's expression softened. “We'll do everything we can.” *** When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the emptiness. My stomach was flat. The baby was gone. A nurse quietly handed me a small box. Inside was the tiny body of the child I had carried for months. The sight shattered something inside me. I cried until my entire body shook. The physical pain was nothing compared to the grief crushing my heart. Then, in the middle of my sobbing, the hospital room door suddenly flew open. A man suddenly rushed inside, tall and breathless, his familiar face immediately catching my attention. He was the man I had always considered family, even though we shared no blood. He had grown up beside me, protected me, and stayed close through every stage of my life. In every way that mattered, he had always been my family. My “brother”, Sergio De Luca. The moment he saw me, regret filled his eyes. He crossed the room in seconds and pulled me into his arms. “I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I should've gotten here sooner.” I buried my face against his chest. For the first time that day, I allowed myself to stop pretending to be strong. That afternoon, he transferred me to a private hospital owned by the Mancini Family. Everything was arranged under his protection. Before leaving the city, I mailed the small box containing my baby's remains to the Armani Family estate. If the Armani Family wanted an heir so badly, they could see exactly what their greed had cost them. After that, I sent Antonio one final message. [We're over.] Then I blocked his number, deleted his contact, and erased every remaining connection between us. I didn't want his calls, his messages, or any reminder of the life I had once imagined with the Don of the Armani Family. From that day forward, Antonio Armani became nothing more than a stranger to me, and no matter what happened in the future, I would never let him become anything else again.