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Regret Is Useless: The Mafia Queen Rises Novel Cover

Regret Is Useless: The Mafia Queen Rises

I was a Mafia Princess, and he was the gutter rat I tried to make a King. On our wedding day, with five hundred guests watching, Luca Moretti didn't say his vows. Instead, after receiving a photo of a secret child, he looked at me with panic and backed away from the altar. "I can't do this," he announced to the silent church. "She's here. She'll ruin the kid." He chose a waitress and their illegitimate daughter over me. He walked out, leaving me humiliated in a dress that cost more than most people's lives. Forty-eight hours later, he married her. He gave the waitress my ring, my future, and his name, all to protect a child he had hidden from me. When I confronted him weeks later, he looked at me with cold eyes and told me he did it for honor. He destroyed me to save them, convinced I would fade away into the background. He thought he could break a Vitiello and not pay the price. Five years later, I returned to Chicago. The gala went silent as I walked in, wearing blood-red silk. Luca approached me, eyes full of regret, begging for a second chance, claiming his marriage to the waitress was a mistake. He thought he could win me back. Until a little girl ran into the room—my daughter. And behind her walked my husband. Not a soldier, but the Reaper himself, Dante Cavallaro. Luca’s face turned pale as he realized the truth. He had left me at the altar to play father, but I had married the Devil to become a Queen.
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Chapter 2

Gianna Vitiello POV

The rumors traveled through the Outfit like a contagion.

In our world, weakness is a scent, blood in the water. And right now, the Moretti name reeked of it.

But he had done the unthinkable.

Within forty-eight hours of leaving me at the altar, he had married her. A courthouse wedding. No guests. Just him, the waitress, and the child.

He gave the bastard girl his name. He legitimized her.

He did for that mistake what no one had ever done for him.

It was almost poetic, if it wasn't so pathetic.

Two weeks later, I stood outside the iron gates of St. Jude's Academy.

It was the only school for the children of the Outfit. High walls, armed guards, and a curriculum that conveniently ignored certain legalities.

I was there to drop off my nephew, Leo. My brother was handling a shipment, and I needed the distraction.

"Aunt Gi, is that him?" Leo asked.

He was ten-old enough to know the code, young enough to still have a temper.

I followed his gaze.

A black SUV pulled up to the curb. Luca stepped out.

He looked exhausted. His suit was wrinkled, his eyes shadowed by sleeplessness. He walked around the car and opened the rear door.

Elena stepped out.

It was the first time I had seen her in three years. She had changed.

The drugstore makeup was gone, replaced by a polished, neutral look that screamed 'new money'.

She wore a designer coat that didn't quite fit her shoulders. She held the hand of a little girl.

The child was undeniable. She had Luca's nose, his chin.

Luca saw me. He froze, his hand on the car door.

Elena followed his gaze. She didn't look away.

She smiled. A small, victorious curve of her lips.

She lifted her chin, flashing the diamond on her finger. My diamond.

The one he had bought for me three years ago, repurposed for the help.

I felt the bile rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I stood perfectly still, a statue of judgment.

Luca walked the child toward the gate. He had to pass me.

"Gianna," he said, his voice rough. He stopped a few feet away. "You shouldn't be here."

"I go where I please, Luca. This is Vitiello territory," I said, my voice ice. "Or did you forget who built this school?"

"I'm just dropping off my daughter," he said, emphasizing the word.

Leo stepped forward. He was small, but he was my brother's son.

He kicked Luca hard in the shin.

"Traitor!" Leo shouted. "My dad says you're a rat!"

Luca didn't stumble. He barely flinched.

The guards at the gate tensed. Parents stopped talking. The air crackled with sudden violence.

Luca looked down at the boy.

For a second, I saw the old Luca, the dangerous soldier. But then he looked at his daughter, who was hiding behind Elena's legs, eyes wide.

He looked at me.

"Control your family, Gianna," he said coldly. "Or I will."

The disrespect stung like a slap. He was threatening a Capo's son. In public.

To defend the honor of a woman who had used a child as a bargaining chip.

"You don't have family, Luca," I said, my voice low enough that only he could hear. "You have liabilities."

He stiffened. He grabbed Elena's arm and ushered her and the child through the gates, not looking back.

I watched them go.

He thought he was protecting them. He thought he was being a man.

He didn't realize he had just painted a target on their backs.

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