Donna Forte Novels & Stories

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

When Luca realized that I hadn't asked for money for five days now, he thought I'd finally stopped being a greedy slumdog and handed me a black card as if giving alms. "I can foot your mother's medical bills, but only as long as you stop trying to siphon money off the family. I'm doing all this because I want you to become an outstanding Donna, y'know." He had no idea that my mother was already dead, or that I'd signed the divorce papers—I certainly didn't need the money now. As I left, I found myself still wearing the soda can pull tab that he gave me on a whim for my wedding ring. I sighed—no one would believe that the noble Donna of the Gambino family needed approval just to get money for socks. All because he believed Lina, his secretary, who told him that I had married him for his money. When my mother's heart started failing five years ago, Lina refused to approve my request to foot the bill and even framed me for lying. Luca had no idea that I was only bearing with this abuse because my mother was being nursed in his private hospital. Now that my mother was gone, I decided to be myself again and leave him forever.

Karen Donna at twenty six was in need of a job, after quiting her job as a waitress, she wanted to give her family the best life, and send her younger brother to college. When she finally got a job at New York far away from her hometown, she has left to face her hot boss who happened to be her boyfriend cousin. Things got heated fast, and she had to choose between her boss and her boyfriend who she happened to love so much.

On the day of her wedding, Elena Bianchi was left standing alone in a church. For the nineteenth time, Don Giovanni Rossi failed to appear. His excuse was the same as always—Lina was 'dying' again. This time, the humiliation went further. While Elena waited in her wedding dress, a video call arrived. On the screen, the lace veil her mother had left her—the one promise Elena had sworn to keep—was being torn apart by Lina’s dog as Lina laughed and urged it on. Giovanni followed with a careless apology. He promised to buy her a better one. That veil had been the last thing her mother ever gave her. Elena did not cry. She did not argue. Instead, she made a call no one in the Italian underworld dared to make. Seven years later, the Rossi family had fallen. Their power was gone. Their allies had turned away. And Giovanni—once untouchable—stood among the defeated, waiting to receive the Donna of the most powerful Mafia family. He never expected it to be Elena. Now married to Rafael Bellini, Elena was no longer the woman abandoned at the altar. She was Bellini’s Donna—calm, ruthless, and beyond his reach. The veil that had once been fed to a dog had become a crown. And the man who had destroyed her was now her enemy. In a world ruled by bloodlines, loyalty, and vengeance, Elena proved one unbreakable truth: A woman cast aside by a Mafia king did not disappear—she rose, and she returned as his reckoning.

In my last life, I was Adrian Moretti’s wife for ten years. Everyone said he loved me. They called me the luckiest woman in Chicago’s mafia world. Then I overheard him making his will. The Moretti shares, offshore trusts, and port revenue would all go to Noah, the boy I had raised with my own hands. The son Adrian had with Celeste, the woman he had loved before me. He had even chosen to be buried beside her, not me. That was when I finally understood. Ten years of marriage, and I was nothing but a replacement paving the way for his first love and their son. That night, I died in a car crash. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Adrian had to choose his wife. Everyone thought he would choose me. Even the old Donna smiled and said, “Adrian used to follow Elena everywhere when he was little.” But when I looked up, I caught the flash of disgust in Adrian’s eyes. I understood at once. He had been reborn too. Since you never wanted me in either life, I’ll step aside this time. Before Adrian could say a word, I stood and bowed to the old Don and Donna of the Moretti family. “Godfather. Ma’am. I’m stepping aside.”

Cecilia Laurent’s husband, Lyon Melville, was known across North Ameria’s underground circles as the biggest womanizer. As the current Don of the Melville family, the women who wanted to get close to him would line up from New Yorke to Rondon. He never turned anyone away from his bed. Cecilia had been married to Lyon for five years. The taunting messages and intimate photos from his mistresses were enough to fill the storage on three of her encrypted phones. Cecilia showed no mercy. After the photos of Lyon in the car with a model were made public, she had the sports car dismantled completely. When he went out to sea with an actress to watch fireworks, she had the yacht blown to nothing. She blacklisted every woman who tried to cling to him. She overturned tables at family banquets. She risked every bit of dignity she had as the Melville family’s Donna in the hope that he would come back to her. Lyon allowed it. He let the rumors spread without denying anything. For five years, Cecilia was the joke of the family and the entire underworld. When the New Year came around, Cecilia received her first “gift” of the year. It was an intimate photo of Lyon in bed with another woman. At nearly the same time, a headline broke across New Yorke’s social media and tabloids. [Don Melville Meets Superstar Gianna Moretti Late at Night.] Inside the banquet hall of the family estate, the band continued to play. The champagne tower reflected a cold light. Everyone was waiting for her to blow up. Her assistant expertly pulled up the PR department’s number and held the phone out to her. “Donna Melville, the PR team is waiting for your instructions. Do you want us to make this bigger, like last time?” Cecilia looked at the man in the photo. Ten minutes ago, he had held their daughter on the balcony and watched the fireworks together. She suddenly smiled. “Take it down,” she said. “I don’t want to see this on the front page in two hours.” Everyone in New Yorke knew that the Melville family’s Donna loved like a madwoman. She could lose her temper just as easily. But this time, she did not lose control. She wanted a divorce.

I have been the Donna of the Smith family for nine years— but only in name. I took my deceased twin sister Lily’s place, raised her daughter Emma as my own, and lived beside a husband, David, who never once looked at me with love. For nine long years, I gave everything. Emma, however, only saw me as the woman who “killed her mother,” never knowing it was Lily who stole my marriage, my identity, and the man who was supposed to be mine. She pushed me in public, screamed that I was a murderer, and even used the gun I gifted her to shoot the only thing that brought me comfort—a tiny bird I’d been nursing back to health. And David… David, the man I once loved with my whole heart, couldn’t hide the coldness in his eyes. Every time he looked at me, I could feel Lily’s shadow standing between us. So I made a decision. If this family wanted Lily so badly— then they could have her ghost. I would leave the Smith estate, the title of Donna, the child who hated me, and the man who never wanted me. But the night I packed my bags, David suddenly appeared in the doorway, blocking my path— his eyes no longer cold, but afraid. As if he had finally realized what losing me truly meant.

I was vacationing in St. Moritz, Switzerland with my mother when Vivian from the Valenti family office sent me a photo. The woman in it lay on the cold marble floor of the estate, her coat stripped away, her body covered in blood. No one stood near her, as if she had already been set aside like a problem to be dealt with. It was hard to tell if she was still breathing. A voice message followed, her tone sharp and controlled. “Elena, don’t assume that marrying the Don and being called Donna means your small-town family can step onto Valenti property.” “The lakeside estate Mr. Valenti just acquired is a family asset. Letting someone like your mother stay there breaks rules.” “I act on the Don’s behalf. It is my responsibility to remove people who should not be there.” “This is what happens when someone crosses a line.” I went still. Then I looked up at my mother sitting across from me. She held her tea, calm as ever. I lowered my eyes and enlarged the photo. The moment I saw the woman’s face, my chest tightened. It was not my mother. It was Luca’s. I called Vivian immediately. “Have you lost your mind? That’s Luca’s mother.” She gave a light laugh, her tone cool and distant. “Mr. Valenti has always been clear. Your mother is yours. His mother is his.” “The Valenti family does not take in outsiders.” “You may be Donna, but that does not mean your family steps inside with you.”

Isabelle Forte wanted a simple life. But then she witnessed a murder, and was led straight into the arms of Mariano Rivera, boss of the Italian mafia. Together, they traverse a story of love, honor, revenge, violence, and betrayal. The dominating, possessive man may fix her, or break her all over again.

It is said that Marco Colombo, the heir of the Colombo family of Chiron, is holding a wedding for his mistress, Gina Bilotti, today. The scale is ten times grander than when he marries Isabella Pratico in a political union. I lean against the ebony railing on the second floor. Sipping my red wine, I watch the lively scene of clinking glasses and mingling guests below with quiet amusement. Gina is definitely favored—she is even wearing a ruby necklace. One should know that set of ruby jewelry is an heirloom of the Colombo family. It is something only the Donna and the wife of the heir are allowed to wear. "You must be Isabella, the one Marco who does not love." A voice suddenly comes from beside me. I turn my head and see the woman wearing the ruby necklace before me. Gina has come up to the second floor at some point and is now looking at me with a cunning smile on her face. I freeze for a moment, not yet able to respond. She suddenly grabs my hand and yanks it hard toward herself. There is a sharp tearing sound, and the hem of her wedding dress rips open with a long tear. Gina lets out a cry, and tears immediately stream down her face. "Mrs. Colombo, why did you tear my wedding dress? Marco specially commissioned this from an independent designer just for our wedding! "If you really cannot tolerate my presence, then I will break up with Marco today and leave Chiron…" The surrounding guests all lift their heads and glare at me angrily. I am stunned because I am not Isabella. I am the new wife of Marco's father, the woman of the current Don, and the Donna of the Colombo family.