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Rising From Ashes: The Mafia King's Bride

Chapter 4 4

Word Count: 762    |    Released on: 20/03/2026

ella

still reeked of Carmella's cloying, sweet perfume, but the morning sun spilling over the Persian rugs felt l

by two young maids I recognized instantly. In my past life, th

atrice said, her smile brittle and her eyes darting

lready summoned to my side. "Marta and Anna will serve me. Those girls are what Carmella i

y mask. She opened her mouth to invoke her au

y, my tone leaving no room for debate. Defeated and humiliated

us snake, and she struck

ct my allies, so I requested the key to the North

gate?" she mocked, standing at the top of the grand staircase. "It

ers stationed at the North Gate. They weren't guarding it; they w

power. I neede

under the guise of formally thanking Eleonore Falcone Morett

yx rosary on the mahogany table. "I cannot ke

gleaming with approval. "It belongs with s

return. In three days, the Marino family will use the dockworkers' strike as cover to mo

The intelligence I just handed her was priceless. I saw the exact moment she stopped look

ouble doors of the suite swung open. The air

e black wool and lethal grace, his dark eyes devoid of any human warmth. Besid

man snapped its leash. It ignored Eleonore's gasp and charged directly at me. I braced for teeth, but

memory slipped past my lips. "*

nking the dog back by its collar. He leaned in, his broad shoulders blocking out the light, his face me

emanded, his voice a low, dangero

vened sharply, stepping between

lare. I offered a stiff curtsy and fled the suite, leaving the Princ

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Rising From Ashes: The Mafia King's Bride
Rising From Ashes: The Mafia King's Bride
“I discovered the dark secret my stepmother Beatrice had been hiding for years. When I threatened to expose the truth to the mafia, my half-brother Angelo and step-sister Carmella locked me in an abandoned Brooklyn warehouse. Carmella stood there in my mother's expensive silk dress, her voice sweet and venomous as she confessed how she had meticulously stolen my life and my father's love. Angelo looked at me with cold indifference, pouring gasoline over my feet before striking a match. "You're insane for threatening to break the code of silence," they laughed, leaving me to burn alive to protect their stolen thrones. My own father turned a blind eye, letting his trueborn daughter turn to ash just to maintain the illusion of his perfect family. The smell of charred flesh filled my throat. Until I died, I didn't understand. I had bled for our survival, even taking a bullet for the terrifying Moretti Matriarch. Why did my father let the bastard children of a Chicago bootlegger steal my inheritance and murder me? Opening my eyes again, the phantom heat of the inferno faded into a cool New York afternoon. I was seventeen again, sitting in the backseat of a Cadillac, just returning from my three-year exile in Switzerland. This time, I wouldn't just scream. I would marry the terrifying Prince of New York and watch my stepmother's entire bloodline burn.”