Reborn: The Lethal Ex-Wife's Bloody Return

Chapter 5

Word Count: 637 | Released on: Today at 10:16

ella

old wood, lemon polish, and suffocating stillness. It was a gilded

was asleep before his head hit the pillow, his small han

ce of heavy, gold-embossed stationery, I quickly wrote down a list. My handwriti

I said

at the gates. I handed her the paper. "I need you to procure these items

Specific agricultural fertilizers? Gallons of medical ethanol and untraceable chemical reagents?" She looked up at

was. The naive girl she had served was dead, buried u

my voice a flat, icy command

line had been drawn. Maria swallowed hard, clutching the paper

nked by two Moretti sedans. The convoy was supposed to take us s

gray blur of the highway. We were appr

decay was the "Ghost of Gary"-a former rival *Consigliere* everyone thought was dead. He held a black book, a ledger of sins that could black

to let them hav

the button for the driver's p

n the rearview mirror. "Miss Isabella, the Don's

" I repeated, m

eek is a graveyard. It's crawling with bottom-feeding *Associates* an

eyes with the *Capo* in the mirror. The air in the cabin grew heavy w

olute certainty in my voice broke his r

oarded-up storefronts and crumbling brick factories loomed ahead like rotting teeth against th

ower in the distance. The board was set, a

Chapter End

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Reborn: The Lethal Ex-Wife's Bloody Return

Li Xiamo Mafia

“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.”