Chapter 1

"Elena, hand over that sapphire cufflink right now!"

My stepmother Camilla's shrill voice echoed through the living room as she grabbed my arm, her nails digging viciously into my flesh.

My eyes flew open. I looked at the cruel face before me and immediately recognized where I was.

I had been reborn. I was back ten years in the past, back to the day they forced me to give up my claim as the Don's savior.

I was the true Principessa of the Santini family. My mother, Isabella, was the sole heir to the Moretti family. Her immense fortune, weapons arsenal, and control of several key territories had made the Santinis everything they were in the Mafia underworld.

But after Isabella died, my father, Antonio, immediately moved Camilla, the other woman who had schemed her way into his life years earlier, and her daughter, Victoria, into our home.

"Elena, just give me the cufflink," Victoria said from the expensive leather sofa, putting on her best pitiful act. "You know perfectly well that Caine Corleone, the Don of the Corleone family and the most powerful Don in Europe, is searching everywhere for the person who saved his life ten years ago. All anyone has to do is present this keepsake and claim to be his savior. That woman will become the future Donna of the Corleone family. Just do this for me, won't you?"

Camilla chimed in, jabbing a finger at my face. "Elena, take a good look at yourself! Sullen, meek, pathetic! That Don is ruthless and cold-blooded, a monster with no emotions. You can't even speak up at Mafia dinners. If you went to meet him, you'd only make him furious! Are you trying to get our entire Santini family killed?"

I watched the two of them coldly, mother and daughter putting on their little show.

In my last life, I fell for every word of it. Years of abuse and belittling had convinced me I was worthless. I truly believed I would enrage that volatile Don, truly believed Victoria could represent the family and win us influence. So I handed over the keepsake.

And what happened? Victoria waltzed in with my cufflink, stole my identity, and became the Don's fiancee. As for me, the night before their engagement, Victoria and my own father Antonio tied me up in the basement together.

I still remembered every detail of the scene before my death in my last life.

Victoria wore the couture gown that should have been mine, a short blade in her hand. Without a moment's hesitation, she plunged the knife into my heart, smiling triumphantly. "Elena, you're the one who actually saved Caine. As long as you're alive, my position as Donna will never be secure. You think I'd let you live to ruin my happiness? Go to hell. Your keepsake, your man, everything you had should be mine."

And my father Antonio stood right there, watching with cold indifference as I took my last breath.

"Elena, what are you staring at?!" When Camilla saw me go silent, she assumed I was about to refuse and immediately launched into her signature tantrum. She dropped to the floor and began wailing at the top of her lungs. "My life is so miserable! I raised you, I sacrificed everything for you, I even put Victoria aside for your sake! Now the family needs to ally with the Corleones and all you can think about is yourself! You ungrateful wretch! Do you want to see your father's life's work destroyed?!"

"What's all this noise?!"

The study door swung open, and my father, Antonio, came out, his face like stone. He wore a tailored black suit and strode to the center of the living room.

Camilla scrambled to her feet and threw herself into his arms, sobbing. "Antonio, look at your wonderful daughter! All Victoria wants is to help the family secure the Corleone alliance, but Elena refuses to hand over the keepsake. She's going to let us offend the Don!"

Antonio didn't bother hearing my side. He turned and fixed me with a look of cold contempt, his eyes full of nothing but disgust.

"Elena, you're exactly like your treacherous mother! Selfish and utterly classless!" Antonio delivered his most cutting words in the calmest tone. "Your mother was nothing but a burden, and now you want to be the family's downfall too? That Don is unpredictable. If you go, you'll only embarrass us. Give the keepsake to Victoria. That's an order."

Listening to him, all I felt was a wave of nausea. In my last life, this was how they smeared Isabella's name, accusing her of selling Mafia intelligence. But having lived through it all once already, I now knew the truth. The one who sold the intelligence to the FBI and got Isabella killed was Antonio himself. He had climbed to power over my mother's corpse, and now he meant to sacrifice me to clear Victoria's path.

Looking at the three vile, deceitful faces before me, I forced down the towering hatred in my chest. I didn't cry or argue the way I had in my previous life.

I looked at them, perfectly calm, and said simply, "Fine. It's yours."

Antonio froze, clearly not expecting me to agree so easily. Camilla even forgot to cry, eyeing me with suspicion.

I ignored them both, turned, and walked back to my room. From under the bed, I pulled out a battered wooden box and took out the sapphire cufflink. Ten years ago, a boy with severe claustrophobia had clung to my hand in a dark cellar and left this with me.

I carried the cufflink back to the living room and tossed it onto the coffee table.

Victoria's eyes blazed with naked greed. She lunged forward and clutched the cufflink in a white-knuckled grip, trembling with excitement. "Thank you, Elena! Don't worry. Once I'm the Donna of the Corleone family, I'll take good care of you!"

"Smart choice." Antonio gave a cold snort and straightened his tie. "Stay in your room for the next few days. Don't come out and embarrass us, or you'll ruin Victoria's big moment."

Camilla pulled Victoria away in high spirits to try on gowns, and Antonio retreated to his study.

I stood there, watching their retreating backs, and smiled coldly.

Take it. Victoria, you think you've taken endless wealth and power, but what you've really taken is a one-way ticket to hell.

This time, I was no longer the helpless victim waiting to die. I would send them all into the graves they had dug for themselves.