Reborn To Ruin: The Mafia Queen's Revenge
I spent twenty-one years trying to be the perfect Mafia Princess, treating my illegitimate sister, Mia, with nothing but grace.
That kindness is exactly what got me killed.
My husband, Luca, didn't take me on a honeymoon. He dragged me into the soundproof basement of our estate.
Mia was there, too. Not to help me, but to gloat.
She laughed as she admitted to poisoning our mother with arsenic, watching with glee as Luca brought a serrated knife to my chest.
"You were always too soft, Sera," he sneered, carving through my skin while I begged for mercy.
I died in that cold, dark room, choking on my own blood and the bitter taste of betrayal.
But I didn't stay dead.
I woke up gasping for air, clutching a chest that was smooth and unscarred.
The calendar on my nightstand read May 12, 2018.
It was five years ago. The very morning I was scheduled to sign the marriage contract that would seal my fate.
I looked at the paper on the vanity.
In my last life, I signed it with a trembling hand.
This time, I flicked open my silver Zippo and watched the flames eat Luca's name.
I didn't pack a dress. I packed a pistol and a stack of cash.
I was going to Las Vegas.
There was only one man dangerous enough to help me destroy the New York families.
I walked into the underground fight club, locked eyes with the deadliest man in the room, and smiled.
"Dante Cavallaro," I said.
"I'm here to make you a King."
Chapters
Share
Chapter 4
Sera POV
Five years.
It had been five long, agonizing years since I bled out on the asphalt of the highway, my life fading in Dante's desperate arms. Five years of building, of plotting, and of brutal training.
I wasn't the frightened girl who ran away anymore. I was the Queen of Las Vegas. And Dante was the lethal King who knelt at my feet.
We stood in the gilded elevator of the Plaza Hotel in New York. The mirrored walls reflected us, two predators in human skin. Dante looked lethal in a bespoke tuxedo, his dark presence filling the small space and sucking the air out of it. I wore a dress made of black velvet that hugged every curve, with a slit that sliced up to my thigh. It was a dress meant for a funeral, or an execution.
"Are you ready?" Dante asked, his voice a low rumble. He ran his hand down my bare back, his touch possessing, grounding me.
"I've been ready for a lifetime," I said.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
The ballroom was filled with the elite of the New York underworld. The Ascension Ball. Tonight, the families were gathering to swear fealty to the new Boss.
They thought the new Boss was going to be Luca Vance. They were wrong.
I stepped out, my hand looped through Dante's arm. The room went deathly quiet. Ripples of whispers spread like a contagion through the crowd.
"*Is that her?*"
"*The dead girl?*"
"*The runaway?*"
I kept my head high, my gaze cutting through the noise. I saw them across the room.
Luca. He looked older, harder, and more arrogant. He was holding court near the bar, laughing at something unimportant.
And Mia. She was clinging to his arm, wearing a white dress that looked ridiculous on her—too innocent, too pure for the rot inside her soul. She was playing the part of the doting wife, the role she had stolen from me.
I steered Dante toward them. The crowd parted for us like the Red Sea. They sensed the violence rolling off Dante in waves.
Luca turned. His smile faltered and died when he saw me. He blinked, as if seeing a ghost.
"Sera?" he choked out.
"Hello, Luca," I said. My voice was smooth, steady, betraying nothing. "You look... tired."
Mia gasped. Her grip on his arm tightened until her knuckles turned white. "You're supposed to be in Vegas. You're supposed to be gone."
"I'm back," I said, my lips curving into a cold smirk. "And I brought a plus one."
Dante stepped forward. He didn't introduce himself. He didn't have to. His reputation preceded him like a shadow.
Luca recovered his composure, masking his fear with bravado. He sneered. "So, the whore returns. And she brought her pet dog."
The room went deadly silent. Even the music seemed to stop.
Mrs. Rizzo, the wife of a corrupt senator, stepped forward. She had always hated me. She had helped spread the rumors that I was mentally unstable five years ago to protect her own dirty secrets.
"You have some nerve showing your face here," she spat, her face twisting in disgust. "You disgraced your family. You are nothing but trash."
She raised her hand and slapped me. The sound echoed like a gunshot across the marble floor.
My cheek stung. I didn't flinch. I slowly turned my head back to face her.
Dante moved to kill her. I felt his muscles coil, ready to snap her neck. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.
"Not yet," I whispered to him.
I looked at Mrs. Rizzo. I smiled. It was a smile that promised pain.
"Thank you, Mrs. Rizzo," I said softly. "You just made this so much easier."
Luca laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Get her out of here. Guards! Take this trash to the basement. I want to teach her a lesson about respect."
Four of Luca's soldiers moved toward me. They were grinning. They remembered the basement. They remembered what Luca liked to do to women who disobeyed.
I didn't move. I just looked at Dante.
"Show them," I said.