Reborn: The Mafia Bride's Fiery Revenge
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.
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Chapter 6
Isabella POV
A few days later, the biting cold of Brooklyn was replaced by the suffocating opulence of the Romero Estate's Grand Foyer.
The administrative hall was a stark physical representation of the mafia's hierarchy. Crystal chandeliers cast a cold, brilliant light over polished marble floors, while heavily armed Soldiers patrolled the perimeter. On one side, terrified Associates like my father, Arturo, stood in a tense line for the grueling Annual Audit. On the other, the daughters of affiliated families gathered in the registration lounge for the Selection Gala, draped in designer silk and false smiles.
I stood near a marble pillar, keeping my eyes downcast, when the sharp click of expensive heels approached.
"I told you she'd be here, looking like a beggar," Bianca Hobbs sneered. My cousin crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with spite. "Refusing the Velasquez match was the stupidest thing you've ever done, Isabella. You're destined to rot in the slums."
Beside her stood Kiana Velasquez.
The moment I saw Kiana's face, the phantom smell of gasoline and burning flesh filled my lungs. This was the woman who had locked me in a lightless cell, the woman who had laughed while telling me my mother died of a broken heart. My nails dug into my palms until the skin nearly broke, but I forced my expression to remain perfectly blank.
Kiana looked me up and down with absolute disgust. "So this is the Associate's trash who thought she was too good for my brother," she mocked, her chin raised in arrogant superiority. "You should be on your knees thanking us for even considering your filthy bloodline. But it doesn't matter. I'm only here today as a formality. With my family's standing, Underboss Damien is already mine. The Mafia Queen's seat belongs to me."
I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until her eyes bulged. Instead, I caught a glimpse of movement near the grand entrance.
Kloe Klein had just walked in.
Surrounded by four heavily armed guards, Kloe wore a custom haute couture gown that cost more than my father's lifetime earnings. She was Old Money—the granddaughter of the Graham family and the heiress to the Klein financial empire. She was notoriously proud and despised the nouveau riche.
I immediately dropped my gaze, adopting a mask of trembling reverence, and raised my voice just enough to carry across the polished floor.
"Of course, Miss Velasquez," I said, my tone dripping with loud, exaggerated awe. "With your family's immense power and your undeniably noble bloodline, the Underboss will surely choose you. We bottom-feeders wouldn't dare compete with the future Mafia Queen."
The words hit their mark perfectly.
Kloe Klein stopped dead in her tracks. Her piercing blue eyes snapped toward us, her lips curling into a vicious sneer.
"Noble bloodline?" Kloe's voice echoed through the lounge, sharp as a stiletto. She stepped closer, her guards parting the crowd like the Red Sea. "The Velasquez family are nothing but nouveau riche thugs who cook their casino books. How dare a smuggler's daughter speak of 'noble blood' and the Mafia Queen's seat in the Romero foyer?"
Kiana paled, her arrogant facade crumbling instantly. "Lady Klein, I—I didn't mean—"
Bianca foolishly tried to intervene. "She was just putting this Associate's daughter in her place—"
"Shut your mouth, Hobbs," Kloe snapped, her gaze pinning Bianca like a dead insect. "Speak again, and I'll have my grandfather strip your father's port routes before dinner."
Suffocated by the absolute crushing weight of Kloe's ancient bloodline, Kiana and Bianca didn't dare utter another word. Faces flushed with deep humiliation, they turned and practically fled the lounge.
Kloe then turned her sharp gaze to me, assessing the girl who had sparked the confrontation. I shrank back against the pillar, my shoulders trembling, looking exactly like the terrified, powerless slum girl I was supposed to be.
Seeing no threat in my pathetic display, Kloe scoffed softly, lost interest, and walked away toward the VIP registration room like a conquering queen.
I kept my head down, but a cold smile touched my lips. The seed of hatred between Kiana and the most powerful girl in the estate had been planted.
With my registration complete, I slipped away from the glamorous lounge and descended into the shadows of the underground garage to wait for my father. The air here was thick with exhaust and cheap tobacco.
I found Associate Alfred near the loading docks, quietly organizing crates after being berated by a Capo. I knew from my past life that Alfred was incredibly sharp and knew how to keep his mouth shut.
I stepped out of the shadows and handed him a thick envelope of cash, along with an unmarked, sealed letter.
"For Javier Velasquez," I whispered, holding his surprised gaze. "The eldest son in the wheelchair. Use the blind drops. No one sees you."
Alfred felt the weight of the cash, gave a curt nod, and pocketed the envelope without a single question.
As I walked back toward the stairwell, my heart beat with a steady, ruthless rhythm. That letter contained the financial trails of Elzada's embezzlement and the proof of her murdering Javier's mother. I had just handed Javier the knife to gut his own family.
Now, I only needed my father to survive his grueling three-day financial audit. Once he was out, we would use our meager savings to bribe the lower clerks, bury my name at the very bottom of the Selection list, and disappear entirely from Damien Romero's radar.
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7.7
My fiancé always told me he loved me. But not long after our engagement, I woke up suffocating in the dark.
He was pressing a pillow over my face, his eyes cold and dead, while my half-sister stood by watching with fake pity.
They had orchestrated everything just to steal my trust fund.
It all started with a massive hotel scandal. They had drugged me, thrown a cheap escort into my bed, and brought a mob of paparazzi to ruin my reputation.
When my fiancé broke through the crowd, playing the heartbroken victim, he knelt down with a massive diamond ring.
"I know things have been hard, but I love you. If you come home with me, I will forgive all of this."
In my past life, I cried tears of gratitude and let him slide that ring onto my finger.
That ring sealed my death warrant. I lost my company, my dignity, and eventually, my life.
Until my lungs burned and my heart stopped, I didn't understand.
How could the people I trusted most plot my murder so ruthlessly?
Why did they have to tear my entire life apart?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning of the hotel scandal, exactly one year ago.
But the man lying bare-backed in my bed wasn't a random escort.
It was Johnathan Chase, my family's biggest corporate rival and the most ruthless predator on Wall Street.
Listening to the paparazzi pounding on the door, I smiled coldly.
8.0
When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.
8.5
Five years ago, Nina Hale lost everything... her family, her reputation, and the man she once loved. Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by those she trusted most, she disappeared without a trace.
Now she's back.
With a new identity and a burning determination, Nina is ready to reclaim her life and chase the dream she once gave up: becoming a star actress. But her return awakens old enemies, and her scheming sister Lydia is determined to ruin her again.
Just when Nina thinks things can't get worse, she's caught in another trap... and unexpectedly crosses paths with a quiet, lonely little boy.
Ethan Grant hasn't spoken in years.
Feeling responsible for him, Nina agrees to stay and help the child come out of his shell. But she didn't expect Ethan's dangerously charming father, Lucas Grant, to enter the picture.
Cold, powerful, and impossible to read, Lucas slowly finds himself drawn to the woman who brightens his son's world.
What begins as a simple act of kindness soon turns into something far more complicated, because Nina came back for revenge.
She never planned to fall in love.
**********
"I saw you with him," Lucas said quietly, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
Nina exhaled, crossing her arms. "You don't get to care."
"Don't I?" He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"This is just a contract."
"Then why does it bother me?" His hand hovered near her waist, not touching-yet.
"It shouldn't." Her breath faltered.
His gaze darkened, "And yet it does."
9.5
Carin survived a horrific escape pod crash only to wake up in the mud of an uncharted, barbaric alien planet.
Before she could even process the pain of her fractured ribs, she was captured by towering, wolf-headed warriors who stripped her of her protective gear and threw her into a filthy slave pen.
Because she lacked animal ears and a tail, the clan's arrogant elites mocked her as a repulsive deformity, beating her with spears and forcing her to shovel toxic dung in the deadly Blade Beast pens.
The other female laborers violently bullied her and stole her only scraps of food, leaving her starving and defenseless in a brutal society where the strong preyed on the weak.
"If you're unclaimed at the mating ceremony, they force you into the breeding program, and you'll be nothing but a vessel until you die."
She was terrified, exhausted, and completely unequipped to survive this nightmare, but after a miraculous farming system suddenly awakened in her mind, she knew she desperately needed a powerful shield to protect her secret from the greedy tribe.
During the chaotic mating ceremony, amidst the cruel laughter of the entire clan, she stepped directly in front of Brannon—a terrifying, sterile, mutant outcast despised by everyone—and boldly claimed the deadly warrior as her mate.
7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.