Vengeance Of The Reborn Mafia Queen
8.5 / 10.0
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I was the Mafia Queen of the Castillo family, but I died like a dog in the damp underground interrogation room.
My sweet, fragile sister Chiara lured me into the cells, only to wrap a garrote wire tightly around my throat.
As the wire sliced into my windpipe and I choked on my own blood, a small figure stepped out of the shadows.
It was my ten-year-old son, Leo.
He watched his mother being strangled to death with cold, dead eyes, his past words echoing in my dying mind.
"I don't want a weak commoner for a mother! I wish Aunt Chiara gave birth to me!"
Chiara pulled the wire tighter, her mask of innocence melting into a grotesque, triumphant sneer.
"You never deserved him, Siena. You never deserved the crown."
I died in pure, suffocating agony, my soul screaming into the dark that if there was a next life, I would carve the flesh from their bones.
Then, I jolted awake, my lungs gasping for air against expensive silk sheets.
I wasn't in the bloody cells. I was in the luxurious Master Suite, and hovering over me was my ruthless husband, the Dark Don, Dante Castillo.
I had been reborn.
Leo was only a five-month-old baby sleeping down the hall, and tomorrow, my treacherous sister would arrive at the estate begging for sanctuary.
This time, I won't play the weak, forgiving sister. I will make them beg for death.
Vengeance Of The Reborn Mafia Queen Chapter 1
Siena POV
The garrote wire cut into my throat, a line of pure, white-hot fire.
But the physical agony of my windpipe crushing was nothing compared to the echoes tearing through my dying mind. As I choked on my own blood in the damp, metallic-smelling Underground Interrogation Room, the ghosts of my past ten years mocked my stupidity.
I heard the voice of my six-year-old son, Leo, screaming in his playroom. *"I don't want a weak commoner for a mother! I wish Aunt Chiara gave birth to me!"*
I saw the cold, aristocratic sneer of Elder Adeline Castillo when my eight-year-old boy stood before the family council, pointing his small finger at me. *"She forced me to lie to the Don. She wanted to kill Matteo."* My desperate plot to assassinate Dante's eldest son—a seed of treason planted and nurtured by my own sister—had stripped me of my Mafia Queen title and condemned me to the gilded cage of the South Wing.
And then came the final act. Chiara had lured me to the underground cells, claiming Leo had been shot in a crossfire. Instead of my bleeding son, I found an empty iron chair. Then came the wire from behind.
Chiara’s breath was hot against my ear as she pulled the garrote tighter. *"You never deserved him, Siena. You never deserved the crown,"* she hissed, her mask of sweet fragility melting into a grotesque, triumphant sneer.
Through my blurring vision, I saw a figure step out of the shadows. Leo. My ten-year-old son stood there, watching his mother being strangled to death, his eyes as dead and cold as a true Castillo.
*If there is a next life,* my soul screamed into the suffocating dark, *I will carve the flesh from your bones. Vendetta.*
I jolted, my lungs screaming for air.
I thrashed violently against the silk sheets, my hands clawing at a throat that was no longer bleeding. The phantom pain drove me to the edge of madness.
"You heartless animal!" I shrieked into the darkness, my voice raw with pure, unadulterated hatred. "Chiara, I'll kill you! I'll make you beg for death!"
A massive, calloused hand suddenly clamped down on my shoulder, pinning me to the mattress with terrifying, immovable force.
"Siena. Wake up."
The deep, gravelly voice was a command that demanded absolute obedience. My eyes snapped open, my chest heaving as I stared up into the shadows.
I wasn't in the damp hell of the interrogation room. I was in the Master Suite. The heavy velvet curtains blocked out the city lights, and the air smelled of expensive cedarwood and gun oil.
And hovering over me was Dante Castillo.
The Dark Don of the Castillo family looked younger. The stress lines that would later age him were gone, and his sharp, ruthlessly handsome face was a mask of lethal calm.
My heart hammered against my ribs as the impossible truth crashed over me. I was back. Leo was only five months old, sleeping safely in the nursery down the hall. And tomorrow, my treacherous sister Chiara would arrive at the estate, begging for "sanctuary" from her non-existent enemies.
But Dante wasn't looking at me with a husband's gentle concern. His dark, predatory eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits, analyzing the pure murder I had just screamed into the quiet night.
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Vengeance Of The Reborn Mafia Queen of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
8.2
Ten years as childhood friends and three as husband and wife ended in her husband's betrayal, and her brothers' indifference. Diagnosed with mid-stage stomach cancer, Roselyn saw the truth of her life.
She walked away from everything, rising from an overlooked office worker to a leading figure in the tech world.
She outplayed her husband into signing divorce papers. When they met again, he begged, "I was wrong... take me back. I'd give you my stomach if I could."
Her once arrogant brothers pleaded too, but she felt nothing. After all, love that arrived too late meant nothing to her now-she simply didn't care anymore.
As they stood desperate, a man stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. "Why waste time on them? Look at me instead."
8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
8.7
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
9.0
Allegra woke up in a sterile alien hospital with no memory, no ID chip, and a terrifying snow leopard General claiming responsibility for her crash.
But a routine ID scan at a local boutique shattered her fragile cover.
The machine shrieked, flashing a fatal red warning: NO NEURAL LINK DETECTED.
She was a "Ghost"—an illegal, unregistered biological entity in a ruthless Hybrid Empire.
The boutique locked down instantly. Heavily armed police swarmed the plaza, laser sights painting her chest red.
She was dragged into a subterranean military black site, where a manic geneticist tested her blood and discovered the impossible truth.
She wasn't a Hybrid. She was a pure Homo Sapiens—an extinct race whose mere presence could cure the Hybrids' fatal Psyche collapse.
To keep her all to himself, the scientist lied to the General, branding her a toxic, mutating bio-weapon.
Forced by Imperial law, the General abandoned her to the scientist's cruel custody.
Allegra was locked inside a reinforced glass cage in the deepest isolation ward, waiting to be dissected.
She huddled on the floor, trembling in absolute despair.
She didn't belong in this nightmare world. Why was she being treated like a monster? Why did this madman look at her like a prize to be torn apart?
Watching the scientist's fox ears twitch in manic stress outside the glass, her human empathy momentarily overrode her terror.
She stood up and pressed her palm against the glass, perfectly aligning it with his.
"Don't be so nervous, Mr. Fox."
Instantly, an invisible wave of human resonance flooded his core, shattering his genetic madness.
The terrifying predator was reduced to a whimpering, devoted puppy, pressing himself against the window in absolute submission.
Allegra slowly pulled her hand back, her heart skipping a beat.
Well, she thought, that changes things.
8.3
Angel was slammed onto the freezing stone slabs of the central square, surrounded by the deafening, mocking laughter of her clan.
Her own sister, Jasmine, stood over her with a look of pure malice, loudly and falsely accusing Angel of sneaking into the Chief's tent to seduce him.
Then, Al Stein, the man who had sworn to be her mate, stepped out of the crowd with a twisted face of disgust.
"You're a genetic reject. You can't give me children. You're useless."
He threw their bone mate ring hard at her face, cutting her cheek, as the crowd roared for her blood.
Without a trial, the High Oracle stripped her of her citizenship and sentenced her to eternal exile in the deadly wasteland.
To make her punishment a complete joke, the guards dragged out a comatose, dying outcast named Kain, slicing Angel's finger to force a mate bond between the two defects.
They were tossed out into the raging blizzard like discarded corpses, the heavy steel gates slamming shut behind them, cutting off all light and warmth.
Angel crawled through the snow, her vision blurring from extreme starvation and the biting wind, suffocating under the weight of their lies.
Why did her own blood frame her? Why did her mate throw her away to die in the ice?
Just as the freezing shadow of death wrapped around her, a sharp, mechanical voice exploded in her mind.
[Genetic Evolution Codex activated. Host Status: Legendary Kitsune Prime.]
The despair evaporated from her chest, replaced by a burning vow to survive and make every single one of them pay.
9.5
Frances survived a horrific car crash, only to return to a suffocating life. Her wealthy husband, Baron, and his domineering mother were now relentlessly pressuring her to adopt a "poor, distant relative" named Jagger as the heir to their billionaire empire.
But on her way to sign the adoption papers, a violent vision flashed in her mind. The crash wasn't an accident. She saw her car in flames, while Baron watched with cold, calculating eyes. Beside him stood an older Jagger, who calmly muttered the chilling truth.
"The problem is solved."
A private investigator soon confirmed her worst nightmares. Jagger wasn't a charity case; he was Baron's illegitimate son. The family had been illegally funneling offshore money to fund his elite lifestyle. Worse, Baron's ultimate plan was to label Frances mentally unstable, lock her away in a Swiss sanatorium for life, and bring in Jagger's biological mother to take her place.
For years, Frances had played the perfect, obedient wife in their corporate marriage contract. How could they be so ruthlessly evil, plotting her agonizing death just to legitimize their dirty bloodline and steal her trust fund?
But she was no longer the fragile puppet they thought she was. At the high-stakes board meeting, with all eyes expecting her to submit, she put the expensive pen down.
"I refuse."
Instead of adopting their bastard son, she slammed down an SEC whistleblower threat, forced a new will, and introduced her own handpicked heir. The war had just begun.
