His to Lose

On the night of our engagement, the ward my family sponsored left without a word.

She went alone to the Mexican border, a lawless land crawling with cartels, to become a combat medic.

From then on, Dante and I tortured each other for ten years.

He hated me for trapping him with my birthright as the heir, stealing the spot of the woman he loved.

I hated him for humiliating me while still craving the power and wealth the Moretti family provided.

In countless fights, we spewed the most vicious curses at each other.

Until that raid on the underwater sanctuary. The base was rigged to blow and sinking fast.

Dante didn't hesitate. He strapped the only oxygen mask onto my face and turned to jump into the swarm of sharks.

He slit his own wrist, using his blood to lure the predators away.

Moments before the sea swallowed him, he roared at me:

“I don't owe you anything anymore, Sophia!”

“If there's a next life, please, let me go!”

After I was rescued, the family only recovered his mangled remains.

Clutched in his palm was that charity case's cross necklace.

That was when I learned Elena had died from a stray bullet years ago.

And he, in the end, chose this brutal suicide to join her.

Dante's death shook the entire Underworld. The family Elders took their anger out on me.

I was accused of being a "Black Widow" who sent her husband to his death to save herself. I was beaten to death by a mob of angry thugs on the street.

When I opened my eyes again, I stopped my father.

This time, I’ll let them have their epic love story.

"Sophia! I'm talking to you. Did you hear me?"

I jolted awake, looked up, and found myself sitting in my father's office—Don Moretti's office.

The desk reflected the cold light, showing my twenty-five-year-old face.

I was reborn.

I was back at the turning point of my fate—the day Father finalized my engagement to Dante and prepared to send Elena abroad for her studies.

In my past life, Father sat in this leather chair that symbolized absolute power, deciding my marriage with a tone that brooked no argument.

And Elena, the girl my family had sponsored, looking as fragile as a damsel in distress, stood right here. With tears in her eyes, she said she was willing to go to the border, dedicating her life to the noble cause of medicine, just so she wouldn't ruin Dante's and my "happiness."

Back then, for the sake of family glory and a girl's infatuation, I nodded and accepted this loveless arrangement.

"Dante is the sharpest blade in our family. Only if you marry him can I trust him to work for me."

Father clasped his hands, his eyes sharp.

"As for Elena, I'll send her to Syria or Mexico. The slums there need doctors..."

"Let me go."

I interrupted Father, my tone unusually calm.

Father froze, his hand holding the cigar pausing in mid-air.

I looked straight into those eyes that commanded respect in both the legal and criminal worlds, articulating every word clearly:

"The medical aid station at the border—I'll go in her place. As for the engagement between the Moretti family and Dante... cancel it."

I paused, then revealed a smile with zero warmth:

"Since Dante can't bear to see his little angel suffer, why don't we just let them be? Let them stay in New York and rot together forever."

"Nonsense!" Father slammed the table and stood up, veins popping on his forehead. "You are the sole heir of the Moretti family. You want to go to a place full of cartels and mercenaries to die? Sophia, this joke isn't funny at all!"

"Exactly because I am a Moretti, I need to go to those places to build our own underground medical network, don't I?"

I brought up the "expansion theory" he usually preached to me, leaving him speechless.

"But, Dad, don't tell Dante about this for now. I want to give him a 'surprise'."

Father stared at me hard, trying to find a trace of a tantrum on my face, but there was none.

He finally sat back down in defeat and waved his hand.

I stood up, pushed the door open, and bumped right into Elena, who was eavesdropping behind it.

Seeing me come out, she immediately leaned in, her voice sickeningly delicate:

"Sophia, are you really going to do this? Actually, Dante... he's just too kind. That's why he cares about someone of my status..."

"If you think he's kind, that's because you haven't seen his methods when breaking rats."

I didn't stop walking.

"Sophia, don't be like this."

She jogged to catch up, her tone holding a hint of superiority she couldn't hide. "Actually, that kind of place isn't suitable for you. A princess like you, who grew up in a manor, probably couldn't survive a single day there."

My footsteps stopped abruptly.

That look.

In my past life, she used this "innocent" tone countless times to manipulate Dante, making him think I was just a cruel, heartless Mafia princess who only knew how to spend money.

I slowly turned around and stared at Elena's hypocritical face.

The resentment accumulated over a lifetime exploded in this moment.

Slap!

A crisp, heavy slap sent her crashing to the floor.

Elena covered her face, eyes wide with disbelief, tears streaming down.

"You... you dare to hit me?"

"That slap was for the Sophia who died on the street."

I looked down at her, my eyes colder than a Sicilian winter.

"Put away your cheap acting, Elena. In my eyes, you rank lower than the guard dogs raised by the family."

"Sophia! What are you doing!"

A roar like a trapped beast came from the end of the hallway.