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From Mafia Pawn To The Don's Queen Novel Cover

From Mafia Pawn To The Don's Queen

It wasn't a gun, but the pen in my hand was going to end my life just the same. Liam, the man I was supposed to marry in a month, pointed to the tablet on his desk. It showed a live feed of my mother’s hospital room. "Sign the confession, Ava," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Take the fall for the embezzlement. Or the funding for her ventilator stops in ten seconds." My heart hammered against my ribs. The crimes weren't mine. They belonged to Chloe, his mistress. But Liam Valenti, the Underboss of New York, was sacrificing me to save her. "She's fragile," he said casually, adjusting his silk cuffs. "She can't handle prison. You're strong. You'll survive." With tears blurring my vision, I signed the document. I signed away my career as a lawyer and my freedom to save my mother. Liam snatched the paper like a prize. He didn't offer comfort. He just smirked. "Good girl. The wedding is still on, of course. You'll look beautiful in the ankle monitor." He walked out to celebrate with his mistress, thinking he had won. Thinking he owned me. But he forgot one crucial detail. I wasn't just his fiancée. I was the one who laundered his money. I knew where every body was buried—literally and financially. The moment the door clicked shut, I stopped crying. I pulled out a burner phone and opened an encrypted app. I wasn't going to jail. I was going to war. I typed three words to the one man Liam feared most. "Execute Protocol Zero."
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Chapter 4

Ava POV

The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and impending ruin.

Liam's grip on my arm was a vice, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he propelled me toward Room 402 like a prisoner to the gallows.

"Give me your phone," he demanded, not breaking his stride.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

He snatched it from my hand before I could protest.

He unlocked it-he knew my passcode, of course. Possession was nine-tenths of his love language. I had never been allowed secrets. Until today.

He scrolled through the messages, his thumb moving with frantic speed.

I held my breath.

The interface showed nothing.

It was just the dummy screen Nex had installed. No texts to Ethan. No "Protocol Zero." Just mundane reminders, a grocery list, and spam.

Liam frowned, jamming the phone into his pocket.

"You're hiding something," he muttered.

We reached the room.

He didn't knock. He threw the door open so hard it bounced off the rubber stopper.

"Eleanor, I-"

He stopped.

The room was silent.

The bed was stripped to the mattress.

The monitors were dark.

The ventilator was unplugged, the cord coiled with mocking neatness on the hook.

Empty.

Liam stood frozen.

For a second, he looked like a statue, a monument to his own failure.

Then, he exploded.

He kicked the IV stand next to the bed. It crashed to the floor with a deafening clang, rolling wildly across the linoleum.

I flinched.

He saw it.

He spun around, his eyes wild.

"Where is she?" he roared.

"I don't know," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Maybe they moved her for tests."

"Don't lie to me!"

He grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my jaw until I thought the bone might snap.

"You moved her. How? Who helped you?"

"I have no one, Liam!" I cried out. "You made sure of that!"

He stared at me, searching for the truth in my eyes.

Slowly, the realization dawned on him. He had lost his leverage.

The fear in his eyes was visceral. It was delicious.

"You think this changes anything?" he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. "You think because she's gone, you can leave?"

"Yes," I said. "The engagement is over. The blackmail is over."

He laughed.

It was a sound devoid of humor, dry as old bones.

"You are property, Ava. You leave when I say you leave."

He dragged me out of the room.

"Where are we going?" I struggled against him, my bad ankle throbbing with every step as I tried to keep my footing.

"To fix your mess."

He didn't take me to the car.

He dragged me through the service exit and down the connecting tunnel to the adjacent building.

The Research Center.

Also known as "The Lab."

The heart of the Valenti money laundering operation.

We took the freight elevator down to the basement.

The doors opened to a hum of servers and the cool, sterile air of climate control.

Chloe was there.

She was sitting at a terminal, looking frantic, her face pale beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Liam!" she cried when she saw us. "It's gone! All of it!"

"What is gone?" Liam demanded, throwing me toward the desk.

I stumbled, catching myself on the sharp edge of a server rack.

"The laundering codes," Chloe wiled. "The algorithm for the offshore accounts. I tried to log in, and it said 'File Corrupted.' She did it! Ava deleted them!"

I looked at the screen.

I hadn't deleted them.

I had encrypted them.

Only I had the key.

"Fix it," Liam ordered me.

"No," I said.

The slap came out of nowhere.

It cracked across my cheek like a whip.

My head snapped to the side. I tasted copper flooding my mouth.

It was the first time he had ever hit me.

I touched my cheek, looking at him. My skin burned, but my resolve turned to ice.

"You coward," I whispered.

"I said fix it!" Liam yelled, his voice cracking. "The Commission is expecting the transfer by midnight! If the money doesn't move, we are dead!"

"She's lying, Liam!" Chloe pointed a manicured finger at me, her hand trembling. "She's trying to destroy us!"

Liam looked at Chloe, then at me.

He chose the lie.

He always chose the lie.

"You want to play games?" Liam grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head back.

"Liam, stop!" I screamed.

He dragged me toward the back of the room.

Toward the main server vault.

"You want to be in control?" he snarled. "Fine. You stay in there until you remember the codes."

He opened the heavy glass door of the server room.

He threw me inside.

I landed hard on the metal grating, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

"Liam, please!"

He slammed the door shut.

The electronic lock engaged with a heavy, final thud.

He stood on the other side of the glass, his face twisted with rage.

"Midnight, Ava," he said through the intercom. "Or I don't open this door."

I scrambled to the glass, pounding on it with my fists.

But then I heard it.

A low beeping sound.

Coming from the server rack behind me.

I turned around.

A small red light was blinking on a device attached to the main hard drive.

It wasn't a standard component.

It was rigged.

I looked at the timer.

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