A Mafia Queen’s Revenge

The air was damp and heavy at the docks, the smell of salt and oil clinging to everything. I clutched my briefcase tightly, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. This was it. The final step in exposing the DeLuca mafia family.

“Marco,” I called out, spotting him leaning casually against his car, his hands in his pockets. My closest ally, my mentor—the one person I could trust in this whole mess.

He turned, a small smile on his face. “You’re late.”

“I had to be careful,” I said, walking up to him. “This evidence is enough to take them all down. We can’t afford mistakes.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the briefcase. “You’ve done good, Alessia. Real good.”

Something about his tone made my stomach twist, but I pushed the thought aside. This was Marco. He had my back.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, holding out the briefcase.

The moment he took it, my world shattered.

A sharp click echoed behind me—the unmistakable sound of a gun’s safety being turned off.

I froze.

“Marco?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he said, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “You were too good. Too dangerous. They made me a deal—my life for yours.”

My blood ran cold. “You’re betraying me?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, two men appeared out of the shadows, grabbing me before I could react.

“Marco, please!” I screamed, struggling against their iron grips.

He turned his back on me, walking away without another word. And when I woke up, all I could see was darkness.

Not the peaceful kind, like when you’re just lying in bed at night, but the kind that’s suffocating, like it’s closing in on you from every direction. I tried to breathe, but it was hard. The air felt thick, almost like I was breathing in dirt. My chest heaved, but it wasn’t enough. My lungs screamed as dirt filled my nose, my mouth, my throat.

I couldn’t move. My arms, my legs—everything was stuck, pinned down, weighed down by something so heavy it felt like the earth itself was pressing on me.

No, not pressing. Burying.

They buried me.

They really buried me alive!

I tried to scream, but it came out muffled, useless. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might just burst. Panic hit me in waves, twisting my stomach, making my head spin.

This can’t be real. This isn’t happening.

I started thrashing, clawing at the dirt with whatever strength I had left. My fingers scraped against rough roots and stubborn soil. I could feel my nails breaking, but I kept going. The harder I fought, the tighter the earth seemed to close around me, like it was trying to swallow me whole.

My body ached, every muscle burning as I kicked and struggled, but it was no use. The weight was too much, the darkness too thick.

I’m going to die here.

Tears were streaming down my face, but I couldn’t even tell if they were mine or just the dirt that was stuck to my skin. I thought of Marco, the way he’d turned on me, his betrayal still fresh in my mind. The life I had fought so hard for—all of it, gone in an instant.

No one’s coming for you.

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. No one knew I was here. No one would save me.

This is it.

My arms felt like lead, my legs useless. Even the panic couldn’t keep me moving anymore. The fight drained out of me, and I felt the world slow down, becoming still. My vision blurred, my chest ached as I took one last breath—ragged, desperate.

And then… nothing.

The world fell silent.

***

"No!!!" I gasped, my body jerking upright.

I sucked in deep breaths, oxygen mask still over my nose, but the air felt wrong—too thick, too foreign. I wasn’t gasping for air anymore, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe properly.

Where... where was I?

I was in a bed. A huge bed. The room was huge, too.

I wasn’t dead.

But... what the hell?

I glanced around the room, my breath coming in sharp gasps. This wasn’t a regular hospital room. The walls were painted in rich, dark tones, and the furniture looked like something out of a luxury magazine—dark wooden pieces, shiny and polished.

There were giant windows with velvet curtains, and a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft glow on everything. This place didn’t look like a hospital at all. It was more like a VIP room in a five-star hotel.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the plush rug beneath my feet. I looked up, and that’s when I saw myself in the mirror across the room.

The woman in the mirror wasn’t me.

She had long, dark hair, porcelain skin, and piercing blue eyes. Her face was completely unfamiliar, but when I touched my cheek, the reflection moved with me, like we were one and the same.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, stumbling toward the mirror. "This isn’t real. This can’t be real." Q

Just as I was about to spiral, the door creaked open.

A man walked in.

"Valentina!" his voice deep, calm, and commanding.

I turned so fast my head spun. The man standing in the doorway was tall, broad-shouldered, and had dark eyes that seemed to pierce through me. Matteo Ricci. Valentina's Fiance. The same Matteo Ricci I knew from the rumors. Ruthless. Dangerous.

But the look in his eyes wasn’t cold. It was... soft?