My life as a mafia princess ended the day Dante Moretti, the new Don, killed my family and seized our home. Now, I was a prisoner, a humiliated servant scrubbing floors in what was once my mansion, enduring his cruel torment day and night. He swore my family had destroyed his, and his vengeance was absolute. Then came the impossible truth: I was pregnant with his child. A tiny, secret hope, a fragile reason to endure, began to bloom in my heart. But Dante, spurred by his calculating fiancée, brutally forced me to abort our baby. He then coldly orchestrated the public murder of my last remaining family-my beloved mother. My entire world shattered in that moment. That final act of cruelty extinguished every flicker of hope, leaving nothing but cold, dead ash. My will to live evaporated, replaced by a quiet resolve to end my suffering. I prepared my escape, a hidden bottle of pills my one solace, planning to simply fade away. How could one man inflict such unimaginable pain, destroying everything I held dear, yet haunt my every thought with a past love I tried desperately to bury? Why, in his eyes, did I see both pure hatred and a possessive darkness that called to something deep within me? Was there truly no undoing the generational cycle of violence he relentlessly pursued? On the night he paraded me as a broken trophy before his capos, my family's remaining loyalists stormed the ballroom to kill him. As a blade lunged for his heart, an instinct, a forgotten echo of a life I thought was gone, made me throw myself in front of him. But as I shielded the man who utterly ruined me, the poison I had taken hours earlier began its final, irreversible work.
My life as a mafia princess ended the day Dante Moretti, the new Don, killed my family and seized our home.
Now, I was a prisoner, a humiliated servant scrubbing floors in what was once my mansion, enduring his cruel torment day and night.
He swore my family had destroyed his, and his vengeance was absolute.
Then came the impossible truth: I was pregnant with his child.
A tiny, secret hope, a fragile reason to endure, began to bloom in my heart.
But Dante, spurred by his calculating fiancée, brutally forced me to abort our baby.
He then coldly orchestrated the public murder of my last remaining family-my beloved mother.
My entire world shattered in that moment.
That final act of cruelty extinguished every flicker of hope, leaving nothing but cold, dead ash.
My will to live evaporated, replaced by a quiet resolve to end my suffering.
I prepared my escape, a hidden bottle of pills my one solace, planning to simply fade away.
How could one man inflict such unimaginable pain, destroying everything I held dear, yet haunt my every thought with a past love I tried desperately to bury?
Why, in his eyes, did I see both pure hatred and a possessive darkness that called to something deep within me?
Was there truly no undoing the generational cycle of violence he relentlessly pursued?
On the night he paraded me as a broken trophy before his capos, my family's remaining loyalists stormed the ballroom to kill him.
As a blade lunged for his heart, an instinct, a forgotten echo of a life I thought was gone, made me throw myself in front of him.
But as I shielded the man who utterly ruined me, the poison I had taken hours earlier began its final, irreversible work.
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