Chapter 2

Betty's slap made my head ring.

The pack she'd brought with her closed in, hurling insults nonstop.

"You filthy bitch! Bottom-feeding trash! Too lazy to work, so you open your legs instead?"

"That's right! You think you can steal my best friend's man and walk away? We're fixing that today!"

Neighbors from the surrounding villas heard the noise and gathered outside, hungry for a show.

I tried to reason with her. "You're Betty, right? You've made a mistake. I'm not the woman you're looking for."

I remembered Lucas calling her gentle—his true love. Maybe something set her off, made her jump to conclusions. For his sake, I swallowed my rage and kept my tone even.

But it only made her bolder.

"You've got the nerve to fuck a taken man, but not the spine to own it?" she shrieked. "I saw the cozy picture you posted with my boyfriend!"

Then it clicked.

The "other woman" she was screaming about… was me.

All over one photo with my own brother after years apart.

I stared at her, cold. "You're mistaken. I'm Lucas's sister. Not some side piece. Do your homework next time."

Betty looked me up and down like I was dirt.

"Sister? Don't make me laugh. Lucas's sister is a Donna. She's powerful, connected, and untouchable. You think you can compare? Trash like you survives on its back."

I decided to take that as a compliment on my looks. Otherwise, I'd have already ended her.

But none of her story was true. I never threatened her, never contacted her. It was clear she wasn't the sweet angel Lucas believed.

My voice turned to ice. "If you don't believe me, call Lucas. Ask him yourself."

I didn't expect those calm words to push her over the edge.

"You worthless slut! Who are you to tell me to call my own man?!"

Her eyes landed on the expensive necklace around my neck, and something vicious lit up her face.

"I get it now. You knew Lucas comes from money—that he's the heir—so you spread your legs for the gifts."

She ripped the necklace off and shouted to her pack, "Girls! Destroy everything this whore got from selling herself!"

Then, Betty lost it. Her friends split—some holding me down, others tearing through my home, smashing whatever they saw.

"Chat! Give us ideas and hit like! Whatever you want broken, we break it!"

The livestream blew up. Comments flooded, donations rolling in.

Drunk on the chaos, Betty and her crew went feral.

Jewelry, vases, antiques—shattered.

My couture, my bags—slashed to ribbons.

I watched my home being destroyed, and regret twisted like a knife in my gut.

All because of one foolish choice before coming home—I'd left my soldati behind to keep a low profile.

I glared at the pack of hyenas tearing through my life.

"I don't care who you think I am. Breaking in, destroying my property—you have no idea what you've just started."

Betty let out a cold, sharp laugh and hit me again.

"Still putting on airs? Let me spell it out for you—I am the future Donna of the Gambino family! My man's sister is handing him the whole organization! I can crush a bottom-feeding whore like you whenever I want!"

"Betty—"

Before she could finish, one of her girls came rushing out of my bedroom, her face pale.

"Betty! Look what we found in her drawer!"

She was holding a ring.

My ring.

The family ring passed down from my parents—the symbol of the head of the Gambino family.

The moment Betty saw it, all the blood drained from her face.