Revenge for Mom: Destroying His Mafia World
My fiancé, the Underboss of the DeLuca Crime Family, promised he would burn the world down for me.
But when my mother was dying in the hospital, he chose a ski trip with another woman.
It was that woman's dog that attacked my mother, but when I called him, shaking, he was annoyed. He was in Aspen with Isabella, and I could hear her laughing in the background. He dismissed my mother's injuries as a "minor scrape" and told me not to "make a big deal out of this."
While my mother's fever spiked, he ignored my desperate pleas. Instead, my phone lit up with an Instagram post of him and Isabella smiling by a fireplace, sipping hot chocolate.
My mother slipped into septic shock. That picture was a public declaration, a judgment on my mother's worth, and my own. A cold fury burned away every last bit of love I had for him.
She died at 3:17 a.m. I held her hand until it was cold, then walked out of the hospital and called the one number I was never supposed to use—the number for my father.
"She's dead," I said. "I'm coming to Chicago. I'm leaving this life, and I'm going to burn his world to the ground."
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Chapter 5
Alessia POV:
The Bolton Corp Charity Gala is the glittering centerpiece of the New York social season, an event I should have been attending on Caden's arm. Instead, I went alone. It was my final, quiet act of defiance-my way of exiting his life from the very heart of it.
I'd chosen a simple black dress, designed to render me invisible. A ghost at the feast.
I saw them the moment I stepped into the grand ballroom. Caden and Isabella. His hand rested possessively on the small of her back, her new yellow diamond flashing under the crystal chandeliers like a beacon. A warning. They were a performance of power, a united front. I watched them from across the room as a cold knot tightened in my stomach.
Needing air, I slipped out onto a deserted terrace overlooking the city. The rain had begun as a soft drizzle, blurring the lights below into a watercolor dream. From the deeper shadows, a low murmur of voices reached me. Caden's father-the Don-was speaking with another board member.
"...a clean break is best," the Don said, his voice a low rumble. "We've drafted a generous settlement to ensure her silence. Buy her a nice little life somewhere quiet."
"A shame," the other man mused. "She was a pretty thing."
"Pretty, but not one of us," the Don corrected, his tone dismissive. "Caden is better off with Isabella. She's a girl who knows the rules of the game."
So that was it. My past, my love, my grief-all reduced to a business transaction. A line item on a balance sheet.
Just as the words settled like poison in my gut, Caden and Isabella themselves stepped onto the terrace, oblivious to my presence in the darkness.
"Are you happy?" Isabella asked him, her voice soft and proprietary.
"Of course," he answered, but his voice was hollow, flat.
"I was so worried Ally would make a scene tonight," she murmured, pressing herself against him. "She's just so... exhausting. She was never going to fit into your world, Caden."
He didn't reply. Isabella tilted her head up and kissed him-a long, slow press of ownership.
And with that, the last fragile thread of hope, a thread I hadn't even known I was still clinging to, didn't just snap. It disintegrated into nothing.
I stepped out of the shadows.
They sprang apart, their faces a mask of shock and guilt.
I didn't grant Caden a glance. Nor Isabella. I walked straight past them to the edge of the terrace and let the rain, now a driving downpour, soak through my dress, plastering my hair to my skin. It was cold, but it felt like a baptism. A cleansing.
"Ally, get out of the rain," Caden ordered, taking a step toward me.
I ignored him. His voice was just another sound in the storm, meaningless. A single thought cut through the noise, clear and sharp. I belong to no one. I am my own.
I turned and walked away, past their stunned faces, through the ballroom crowded with people who no longer mattered, and out the front doors into the storm.
I never looked back.
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