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Reborn as My Mafia Ex’s Untouchable Love Novel Cover

Reborn as My Mafia Ex’s Untouchable Love

Elara's first marriage to mafia heir Dante Falcone was a toxic nightmare that ended in mutual destruction. After Dante desecrated her mother's grave, Elara killed him, only to be reborn on the very night of their wedding. Seizing her chance, she flees the continent. Seven years later, Elara returns to face a powerful, billionaire ex-husband who is now desperately obsessed with the one woman he can never truly possess again.
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Chapter 1

On our tenth anniversary, I ran my car into my husband, Dante Falcone, and killed him.

It all started years ago, when Dante and I were caught in the act.

In the ten years of marriage that followed, we became the most notorious, cursed couple in the North American underworld.

On the day of my mother’s burial, he brought his beloved Cameron to me and announced that she was pregnant.

“Your mother is dead, Elara,” he sneered. “Perfect timing. You can be a ready-made Mamma.”

“Her child,” he added, “will have to call you stepmom.”

That night, I killed their child. In return, he dug up my mother’s grave and scattered her ashes to the wind.

Reborn, I fled the continent on the very night that was meant to bind us in marriage.

Seven years later, I came back.

At a Falcone charity auction, I came face-to-face with him again.

He was still the Falcone heir, as powerful and untouchable as ever.

But he cornered me, his eyes bloodshot as he roared...

“Elara, didn’t you dream of marrying me? Why did you run seven years ago?”

In this life, it turned out I was his obsession—the one he loved but could never have.

————————

1

“I was foolish back then. Now I know better, and I don’t want to marry you.”

“Of course I had to run.”

I tilted my head up, a derisive smile tugging at my lips.

Dante’s hand shot out and clamped around my neck. I choked, fighting for air, and drove my knee hard into his groin.

He grunted, his crimson eyes widening as his grip loosened. I lunged forward and sank my teeth into the fleshy web of his hand.

I didn’t let go until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Dante gritted his teeth and pressed his body against mine, pinning me to the wall with terrifying force.

“Elara, you’re insane.”

“You’ve always known I was insane, haven’t you, Dante?” I shot back, never one to back down.

The truth is, we are both insane.

In our past life, we had an agreement: we could do whatever we wanted, as long as it didn't end with a body bag.

At first, we stayed out of each other’s way, each building our own notorious reputation.

But then Cameron came back, and he started trying to force me out.

He used every trick in the book, stopping just short of cutting off my hand to make me sign the divorce papers.

That’s when our war was at its fiercest.

Everyone said we were a match made in hell. Not even a direct order from the Don himself could make us feign peace.

Back then, I truly believed he wouldn't actually try to kill me.

It wasn't until he drove my mother to her death and stood before me with a pregnant Cameron that I knew he really wanted me dead.

“Dante?”

A clear, gentle voice cut through my memories. In that instant, Dante let go of me.

Down the long, dim hallway, I saw Cameron.

In my past life, she was the pristine memory he cherished—his one true love.

“The auction is about to start,” she said.

“I heard Julian is here today. You need his support for that project of yours.”

“You should go in.”

Cameron effortlessly straightened Dante’s suit collar and tie, then smoothed his hair.

When she was done, she turned and smiled at me.

“Are you a friend of Dante’s?”

“Would you like to join us?”

I had only met her a few times in my past life, but my hatred for her burned constantly.

This life, it was our first meeting.

I shook my head and turned to walk back to the auction hall.

The event was about to begin, but my VIP entry pass hadn't arrived yet.

I had no choice but to take a blank card and find a seat.

As I pushed the door open, I realized the room was full of familiar faces.

“Well, well, isn’t it the little Principessa of the Moretti family?”

“I thought after you ran away, you’d never come back!”

“How could she? She may have fled, but didn’t she leave her old Madre to cry and beg at the Falcone’s door?”

“I almost forgot. Don’t you and your mother both like to pave your way with your bodies?”

“Who’s the man that got you in this time? How did you get into an event like this?”

“What could she possibly bid on? Is she here to sell herself?”

A chorus of mocking laughter and jeers stung my ears.

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