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Reborn: The Lethal Ex-Wife's Bloody Return

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 821    |    Released on: 23/04/2026

a's per

of clothing, her hands still trembling, and wi

aiting convoy, a sharp, sarcastic v

agedy, Mis

rand-new, crisp wool coat, and her gaze swept over my mud-covered clothes, causing her to wrinkle her nose in di

a heavy price to pay for a wife who was abandoned. We've prepared seats for you and the young m

and triumphant smile, waiting t

her, my boots crunching on the gravel. I bypassed the ordinary sedan and headed directly for th

mmediately ran forward and ope

rms, and rolled down the tinted window halfway. Kara stood frozen

my voice devoid of any wa

e has officially dissolved your marriage! You have no p

med gods were meaningless to a woman who had already witnessed the end of the w

ray highway. When the magnificent iron gates of Moretti Es

came to a s

the entrance. I recognized the man leaning against the ho

us life, Damian's men didn't come to take Angelo today, b

of the car, immediately shielding A

od. "Miss Moretti. I've come on Godfather Valenti's

ed. "Damian is a beast who would trade even his own flesh and blood like c

"This is for Angelo's future, mis

stared directly into Leo's eyes, at his blind loyalty that would ultimately destroy him. "Go tell Damian that if he dares t

or the holster inside his suit jacket. "Miss

ered my voice and dropped a truth he couldn't comprehend at the moment. "Soon, she will need a loyal man to handle some extremely dark

n him, a nerve he himself was unaware of. Without a direct order from the G

is eyes fixed on me, bef

o's hand tightly and stepped through the massive iron gates of my grandfather's estate. I had

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Reborn: The Lethal Ex-Wife's Bloody Return
Reborn: The Lethal Ex-Wife's Bloody Return
“I was the wife of Damien Valenti, the most ruthless mafia Don in Chicago. But to cement his power and marry a rival family's daughter, he exiled me to the slums without a single dime. "Stay not as my wife, Izzy, but as my whore." That was his final ultimatum before dumping me out of his black SUV like trash. Terrified of losing me, my five-year-old son, Angelo, secretly hid in the car to follow me. Two days later, in a squalid Indiana motel, Angelo caught severe pneumonia. I had no money and no doctor. In sheer desperation, I sliced my own wrist with broken glass, pressing my bleeding arm to his pale lips, begging him to drink and live. But my little boy died in my arms. Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Damien was sipping vintage champagne with his new bride, casually dismissing the life of his own flesh and blood. The grief turned me into a monster. I spent twenty years clawing my way through the underworld to destroy his empire, only to die with a bullet in my chest. I gave him my absolute devotion, yet he traded our family for political power without a single ounce of hesitation. Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hellish neon-lit motel room. Angelo was burning with fever and fighting for air, but he was still breathing. This time, I wasn't the naive girl who loved Damien Valenti. I was a woman holding two decades of their darkest secrets, and my vendetta had just begun.”