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The Betrayed Princess's New Reign

The Betrayed Princess's New Reign

I was the Chicago Outfit's princess, and Luca and Matteo were my sworn protectors. We had mixed our blood at ten years old, promising that nothing would ever touch me. But that oath turned to ash the night Sofia Ricci aimed a Roman candle at my chest. The firework slammed into my shoulder, igniting my silk dress instantly. As I rolled on the concrete, screaming while the flames ate into my skin, I waited for my boys to save me. They didn't. Instead, I watched through the smoke as they rushed to Sofia. They wrapped their jackets—the ones meant to shield me—around the girl who had just set me on fire, comforting her because the "kickback" had scared her. They let me burn to keep her warm. When I woke up in the hospital with permanent scars, they brought me a letter of apology from her and defended her "accident." They even cut their palms to pay her debt, ignoring the fact that I was the one in bandages. That was the moment Elena Vitiello died. I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I simply packed my bags and defected to the one place they couldn't follow: the arms of Dante Moretti, the lethal Capo of New York. By the time they realized their mistake and came crawling back to beg in the rain, I was already wearing another man's ring. "You want forgiveness?" I asked, looking down at them. "Burn for it."
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Chapter 11

Elena Vitiello POV: Before his fingers could even graze the skin of my wrist, three sharp, synchronized metallic clicks shattered the night air. From the deep shadows of the club's exterior pillars, three of the Vitiello family's elite shadow guards materialized like ghosts. They moved with terrifying speed, stepping into a perfect triangular formation that placed me securely behind their bodies. Three matte-black Glock 19s, each fitted with a long cylindrical suppressor, were raised and locked onto their targets. The hollow black muzzles pointed directly at the center of Luca's forehead, his heart, and his right kneecap. Luca's outstretched hand froze in mid-air. His entire body locked up as the primal survival instinct took over. A thick sheen of cold sweat instantly broke out across his forehead, soaking the collar of his dress shirt. He stared at the emotionless faces of the men aiming at him. His eyes widened as the reality finally registered in his thick skull. I hadn't just locked him out of my room; I had completely replaced my security detail with men who would blow his brains out without a second thought. He looked past the barrels of the guns, his eyes finding my face. His voice shook, thick with disbelief and a pathetic sense of betrayal. "You... you're letting them point guns at me?" He sounded like a victim. He had completely erased his own actions from his memory. I stood behind the wall of guards, the cold wind whipping the heavy black velvet of my dress around my legs. I looked at him like he was a stain on the concrete. I tilted my head slightly to the side. "What? You're allowed to point a gun at my chest for a whore, but I'm not allowed to defend myself?" My words hit him like a physical blow. The remaining color drained from his face, leaving him ashy gray. His mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find an excuse. "That... that was an accident," he stammered, his hands raising slowly in surrender. "I was just angry... I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear, I just—" "Shut up," I snapped, my voice cutting through his lies like a whip. "Your voice makes me sick." I took one step forward. The guards instantly shifted, parting just enough to let me look down at him from the top of the stairs. I stared into his terrified eyes, making sure every syllable etched itself into his brain. "Luca, remember your place. You are just a stray dog I took in. You ate my food, you slept under my roof, and you bit the hand that fed you." I paused, letting the cold wind carry the silence. "Now, I don't want you anymore. If you cross the line again, if you ever try to touch me again, I will make sure your death is ugly." Luca's body swayed violently. The invisible pillar that had supported his ego for the last decade crumbled into dust. His knees buckled slightly, and for a second, I thought he was going to collapse onto the pavement. He finally realized that the endless forgiveness he relied on was gone forever. I turned my back on him. I walked down the remaining steps and slid into the leather seat of the Maybach. The heavy armored door slammed shut, severing my line of sight. The thick glass blocked out the sound of the wind and the sight of his pathetic face. Outside, the shadow guards maintained their aiming stances. They did not lower their weapons until my driver pulled the Maybach smoothly away from the curb and merged into the city traffic. Only then did they holster their guns and vanish back into the darkness. Luca stood completely alone on the freezing steps. The wind cut through his thin suit jacket, but the numbness in his chest was worse than the cold. The heavy brass doors opened again. Matteo walked out, holding onto a limping, disheveled Sofia. She was shivering, clutching the torn fabric of her red dress over her thigh. When she saw Luca standing there staring into space, her face twisted with angry entitlement. "Did you see what they did to me?!" she shrieked, her voice shrill. "My dress is ruined! You need to go back in there and teach them a lesson, Luca! You have to—" Luca spun around, his eyes wild and bloodshot. "Shut up!" he roared, his voice echoing down the empty street. "Haven't you embarrassed us enough for one night?!" Sofia jumped back, stunned into silence. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her. A flash of pure, venomous resentment sparked in her eyes. Before she could scream back, a sharp buzz vibrated from the inside pocket of Luca's jacket. He moved mechanically, pulling his phone out with trembling fingers. The screen lit up the dark sidewalk. It was an automated text message from American Express. *Notice: Your Centurion Black Card ending in 4092 has been permanently canceled by the primary cardholder. All linked accounts have been frozen.* Luca stared at the glowing letters. His breathing stopped. The reality of my financial execution finally hit him. I hadn't just stripped him of his status; I had stripped him of the wealth he used to pretend he was a king. Matteo saw Luca's face. He quickly reached into his own pocket and pulled out his phone. He stared at his screen, his face turning the color of chalk. A harsh gust of wind blew past them, kicking up dead leaves from the gutter and swirling them around their expensive shoes. Matteo let his arm drop to his side. He looked at the empty street where my car had disappeared. "We're done... she drained our blood."

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