Her Vengeful Throne

I fell in love with my adoptive brother, Vincent.

To help him claim the Don's throne in the Sicilian Mafia, I willingly became a hostage to his enemies.

The day I left, he knelt before me.

"I'll come back for you," he swore. "We'll have the biggest wedding this family has ever seen."

Three years later, I came back, drenched in blood.

He was the Don now.

And another woman was on his arm. A fragile little thing.

"Sophia," he said, his voice flat. "This is Elena. My fiancée."

"But don't worry. You'll always be my sister."

I was once Vincent's sharpest blade. I was never content to be just his sister.

Everyone watched me with wary eyes, waiting for me to wreak havoc.

I just smiled. "Congratulations, brother."

I turned my back and married his mortal enemy.

But on my wedding night, he and his men stormed into my room.

"Sophia, choose. We die together tonight, or you leave with me."

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1

The moment he spoke, a group of men in black instantly surrounded Vincent.

Countless dark muzzles pressed against his temples, but I smiled and waved them away.

I sized up the girl in Vincent's arms.

She was indeed pure.

Her hair was like a black waterfall, as if untouched by the dust of the world, but her eyes held a trace of stubbornness.

I limped over to them and blew a ring of smoke.

"A pleasure, sister-in-law. I'm afraid I didn't bring a gift."

"You don't mind, do you?"

Everyone present stared at me in astonishment.

My history with Vincent was common knowledge.

Elena placed a hand on her lower abdomen and shook her head timidly.

"Thank you, sister. It's the thought that counts…"

Vincent subtly shielded her behind him.

"Sophia, she's not like you. Don't scare her."

A sneer played on my lips as I casually wiped away the blood seeping from the wound on my chest.

Not like me.

When Vincent found me, I was just as innocent as Elena.

He was the one who taught me how to shoot, who molded my heart into stone.

For him, I willingly stepped into hell.

When his ambition was nearly crushed, I was the one who volunteered as a hostage, surviving everything just to eliminate his greatest foe.

Back then, grief over me had supposedly turned his hair white overnight, and he swore to spend his life by my side.

The memory made my eyes sting.

Vincent opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say more.

I cut him off with a smile.

"Have you set a date for the engagement?"

"If not, how about seven days from now? I'll officiate for you myself."

A flicker of hesitation crossed Vincent's eyes, but he still nodded.

The last sliver of hope in my heart shattered.

Seven days from now was the anniversary of the day I left.

It was also the day we had made our relationship official.

He had already forgotten. Why should I bother to remember?

I suppressed the chill in my heart and turned to leave.

But Elena took a step forward and grabbed my wrist.

I forcefully shook her off.

She went limp, collapsing to the ground, her face pale.

"Vincent, my stomach... it hurts so much..."

Fresh blood soaked into the carpet beneath her. Vincent frantically scooped her up and rushed out.

"Sophia, I know you hate me for marrying someone else, but she’s not like you. Don't play your games with her!"