Reborn To Reign: Choosing The Monster Over The Prince

The cold silence that bloomed in my chest ended my life as the perfect mafia princess.

My fiancé, Connor Walls, watched me fade on the cold tile floor while he calmly cleaned his gun.

Standing beside him was my cousin Jana, the girl I trusted with my life, looking at him with adoration as I took my last breath.

I died realizing that the "Golden Prince" of the Chicago Outfit was actually a monster who had chipped away at my soul behind closed doors for years.

And the man I had been terrified of—his brother Brannon, the "Butcher"—was the only one who had ever truly protected me.

I died full of regret, hatred, and the bitter taste of betrayal.

But then, I gasped, my body jolting upright on a blue gym mat.

My skin was smooth. My heart was beating.

Connor stood above me, young and arrogant, offering me a hand.

I was twenty-one again.

The years of quiet suffering, the betrayal, the final moments—none of it had happened yet.

Connor smiled, thinking I was still the naive girl he planned to control and discard.

He thought I would walk into the Rite of Choice tonight and obediently accept his claim over my future.

He was wrong.

That night, under the crystal chandeliers, the Don asked me to pledge myself to the heir.

The entire room held its breath, waiting for the rehearsed "I do."

I looked at Connor, then turned my gaze to the terrifying shadow in the corner.

"The debt requires a union with the Walls bloodline," I said, my voice steel. "It does not specify the heir."

I pointed at the monster everyone feared.

"I choose Brannon Walls."

Chapter 1

Abby Talley POV

The memory of a final, sharp silence five minutes ago was supposed to be the end, but the acrid tang of exertion and ozone that filled my lungs told me I had just begun.

I gasped, my body jolting upright on a hard, blue gym mat. My hand flew to my sternum, fingers clawing at the silk of my blouse, expecting to find torn flesh and the warmth of my own life spilling out.

There was nothing.

My skin was smooth. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, but it was beating. It was loud. It was alive.

"Easy, princess. You look like you saw a ghost."

The voice was smooth, arrogant, and terrifyingly familiar. It was the voice of the man who had watched me fade on a cold tile floor while he cleaned his gun.

I looked up.

Connor Walls stood above me, offering a hand. He wasn't the older, hardened Capo who had ordered my end. He looked younger. His face was unlined, his smile practiced and perfect—the golden boy of the Chicago Outfit.

He was twenty-five again. Untarnished. Which meant I was twenty-one.

I ignored his hand.

The memories crashed into me with the force of a freight train. The marriage. The quiet agony hidden behind closed doors. The betrayal by my cousin, Jana. And finally, the night I found the ledger proving he was stealing from the Don—the night he decided I was a liability.

I scrambled backward, pushing myself off the mat.

We were in the Family's tactical training center. The air smelled of rubber and ozone.

"What's wrong, Abby?" Connor laughed, a sound that used to make me blush but now made my stomach turn. "Did the recoil scare you? This kind of training isn't for someone so delicate."

He turned his back to me, sauntering toward the shooting range counter where his Beretta lay. He picked it up, ejected the mag, and let it drop to the floor with a metallic clatter.

"Pick that up for me," he said.

He didn't look at me. He didn't have to. In his mind, in this time, he believed I was already under his complete control. The daughter of a dead Soldato, indebted to the Don, desperate for the protection of a Capo.

The girl I used to be would have scrambled to obey. She would have apologized for being clumsy. She would have picked up the magazine and handed it to him with a shy smile, grateful for his attention.

I stared at the black metal on the floor.

"Abby," he said, his tone sharpening. "I said, pick it up."

The soldiers training nearby stopped. The rhythmic pop-pop-pop of gunfire ceased. Silence stretched across the gym, heavy and suffocating. They were watching the Prince deal with his future bride's hesitation.

I stood up, smoothing the wrinkles from my skirt. My legs felt shaky, but my spine was steel.

"No," I said.

Connor froze. He turned slowly, his blue eyes narrowing. The mask of the charming prince slipped, just for a second, revealing the predator underneath.

"Excuse me?"

"You have hands, Connor," I said, my voice steady, though my palms were sweating. "Pick it up yourself."

Jana stepped out from the shadows near the equipment lockers. My cousin. The rat. She looked young, innocent, her eyes wide with feigned concern.

"Abby," she whispered, rushing to Connor's side. "Don't be rude. He's just trying to help you."

She looked at him with adoration, the same look she wore when she told him where I hid the evidence in my past life.

Connor stepped into my personal space. He smelled of expensive cologne and gun oil. His presence was a physical weight, an unspoken challenge. "You're stressed," he said, his voice low, a threat wrapped in velvet. "The Rite of Choice is tonight. You're forgetting your place, Abby. You're forgetting who keeps you safe."

He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from my cheek. I flinched.

"Don Barrett is coming to inspect the facility in ten minutes," I said.

Connor's hand stopped.

"I suggest you have your weapon cleaned and holstered before the Don sees his Capo bullying a woman instead of leading his men," I continued. "Unless you want him to rethink who deserves that button on your collar."

Connor's jaw tightened. A vein pulsed in his temple. He hadn't expected me to know the Don's schedule. He hadn't expected me to use the Boss's name as a shield.

He stared at me, searching for the naive girl he planned to break. He didn't find her.

"Pick up the mag, Jana," Connor snapped, not breaking eye contact with me.

Jana scrambled to the floor, eager to please, eager to be useful.

Connor leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "You look different today, Abby. Dangerous."

He pulled back, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

"I like it. It will make taming you so much more interesting."