Who Is Don John In Much Ado About Nothing And What Is His Role?

"Hatred is still an emotion, sweetheart," I murmured, stepping closer. "That means you still care." Forced into a marriage with the man who despises her family, Isla vows to resist him. But Dante is a man who always gets what he wants, and what he wants… is her. As secrets unravel and enemies close in, Serena finds herself trapped in a dangerous game of power, revenge, and an undeniable attraction she can't escape. Because in Dante’s world, love isn’t gentle. It’s a war. And Serena is about to learn—when the Don wants something, he takes it.

On the day of my prenatal checkup, I found out my husband Don had booked me a termination surgery instead of a postpartum care package. I thought he had placed the wrong order and was about to tease him, but Vincenzo spoke flatly. "I didn't book it wrong. I need to come clean with you about something." "I've been keeping another woman. She's a good girl. She doesn't want a title or to take your place as Donna." "But she got pregnant recently. I've already made her suffer enough. I can't let her child suffer too. I have to give the child the Moretti family name." I froze on the exam table, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Then why did you abort my child?" He wiped the ultrasound gel off my belly and smiled. "I just want you to adopt Giuliana's child. I'm having yours terminated because I'm afraid you'll play favorites and treat her kid differently." He handed me the consent form, calm and composed. "I promise you will always be Donna. No one will ever take your place." I gave him a long, hard look, then was wheeled into the operating room. "Never mind." "Vincenzo Moretti, you're going to regret this every single day for the rest of your life." He didn't know it, but I was the only woman in the world who could ever give him a child.

Valentina Moretti is the Don the Italian Mafia. Smart and formidable, surviving a male dominated environment, overcoming tremendous challenges. Trained from a young age to be a deadly assassin, she commands respect wherever she goes. She seemingly has everything, until her father decides to arrange her marriage. Luca Delgado is the head of the American Mafia. He is a ruthless and cold individual. He understands the rules of the game perfectly and will do anything to achieve victory, including breaking others without hesitation. Their forced marriage is a cruel twist of fate. Will these two ruthless individuals find comfort in one another, or will they end up destroying each other? "I don’t remember agreeing to play strip poker," she remarked. Her lips formed a slight frown, but her eyes sparkled with playfulness. She realized she couldn't outmatch me in this game. "Are you giving up? Are you a coward? " I taunted, aiming to provoke her. Her lips quivered before she pressed them firmly together. The richness of her eye color intensified as she offered a sly grin. She began shuffling cards and removed one of her sandals. Great. We’re taking the long route. She held it up, letting it dangle from her finger before casually tossing it aside. She raised an eyebrow at me, clearly challenging me. I was pleased to know I had touched a nerve. Just as I expected. BE AWARE: Trigger warnings: MATURE CONTENT 18+ (SMUT) SWEARING SELF HARM/SUICIDE (REFERENCES) LANGUAGE THAT IS UNAMBIGUOUS CURSING VIOLENCE, GUN VIOLENCE SELF-INFLICTED HARM /SUICIDE (REFERENCES) BLOOD, DECEASE, and GORE

"Good afternoon, ma'am. You just walked out of Boston City Hall looking absolutely radiant. Any special occasion to celebrate?" "I'm getting divorced." "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind telling me what happened?" "He's been bedding his late right-hand man's sister. In my art studio, on my yacht, across my private study desk, and even on the grand piano in our living room. He thought I didn't know." "I can't imagine how much this hurts. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Where are you heading now?" "The hospital. Prenatal checkup." ... The interview went viral within hours for her calm, unflinching recounting of the betrayal and the shocking contrast between her glamorous mafia wife identity and her devastating situation. It didn't take long for netizens to dig out my identity, and the entire world now knows the woman in that video is me. Elena, Donna of the Moretti family. Three years ago, Vincenzo Moretti, the undisputed Don who ruled Boston's underworld with an iron fist, threw me a wedding that made headlines across the nation. Back then, everyone envied me, calling me the luckiest woman alive. But now? That interview had been online for nearly two days, and Vincenzo was still lost in his little love nest. By the time Vincenzo finally bothered to watch the video his men had forwarded to him, I was already in New Zealand. The whole world knew I was leaving Vincenzo Moretti. He was the last person on earth to find out.

When I pushed open the oakwood door to the manor’s study, I never expected to walk into such a scene. Juliana was sprawled across the desk, her posture leaving little to the imagination. As if not R-rated enough, her mini dress was pulled up to her waist, and her black lace clung to her thigh, barely covering her modesty. She looked back with a smile. “Alessia, my back is acting up again. Matteo’s just helping me out.” Matteo, my husband and a Don, rose to his feet, a tube of ointment in hand. He didn’t look like someone who had been caught out. “She couldn’t reach her back, so I thought I ought to lend a hand.” Matteo grabbed the dressing and pressed the gauze against her skin. He sure took his time. Tilting her head, Juliana met my gaze. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We grew up together. That’s how family is. We don’t care about that kind of stuff.” In my past life, I bolted into the room and grabbed Juliana by the hair to yank her off the desk. She turned to the side, shoving me hard into the sharp corner of the desk. I hit my head on the cold marble edge. The next thing I knew, I was a dead body in the morgue. This time, I stood in the doorway motionlessly. Since Juliana wanted to play the game, I’d be sure to hold my cards close to my chest.

The Mad Donna He Never Really Married For three years, I was Donna of the rising Valenti family. One day, Enzo was holding a meeting at a private cigar club. I worried about his stomach issues, so I went to bring him his usual antacids. Standing outside the private room, I heard his men laughing. “Don Enzo, are you really going to keep Clara hidden away at the Silver Lake villa forever?” “That mad Moretti heiress in the main house is still parading around as Donna of the Valenti family.” Enzo rubbed the bridge of his nose and scoffed. “If she hadn’t taken a bullet to the head for me and gone insane, and if I hadn’t desperately needed her family’s capital, I never would have married a woman with no blood ties to the life.” “But Clara is my legal wife. The family trust, the marriage certificate at City Hall, it’s all in her name.” “Stella’s just a plaything I keep at the main house. Once Clara gives birth to an heir, I’ll bring her home for good.” My knuckles turned white as I squeezed the small box of medicine, the cardboard crumpling in my hand. He had exchanged blood oaths and rings with me in the church, yet it was Clara who had signed the papers at City Hall. He played me for a fool, all to keep Clara’s reputation clean. Clutching the box, I turned and melted back into the shadows. He had no idea my sanity had returned three days ago. He would never guess I had already sent an encrypted message to my brother, who runs a business empire from our home in Solaria, far across the sea. I was done with this goddamn Valenti title.