The Mafia Underboss’ Regret

For five years, I fought illegal matches in an underground cage ring to scrape together enough money to repay the massive high-interest loan I had taken out to treat my son Luca’s illness.

Dragging my still-dislocated left arm, I rushed to tell the father and son the good news.

Yet when I reached the door, I saw the capo who managed the cage arena bowing low before my husband, Vicenzo.

“Underboss, Eva said she’ll repay the loan in a few days. Do we still keep pretending to pressure her?”

Vicenzo idly spun the Browning in his hand, the diamonds set into it worth enough to buy the entire cage arena.

“No need. She’s suffered enough these past few years. Even when she had two ribs broken a few months ago, she didn’t dare tell us.”

Elena, his sworn sister, seated beside him, let out a soft laugh.

“Vicenzo, what if she’s a spy sent by a rival family? After all, you are the underboss of the Carlini family.

“Besides, Luca has been pampered since he was little. How could he live with someone who reeks of blood?”

My six-year-old son wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and echoed her words. “I don’t want a woman covered in scars as my mommy. Just looking at her wounds makes me feel sick.”

Then he turned to her and pouted. “Aunt Elena, I wish you were my mommy.”

Vicenzo hesitated only a moment before looking at them indulgently.

“Then we’ll test her for another six months. If she remains this obedient, I’ll officially let her become part of the Carlini family.”

I watched the farce with cold eyes, because to avoid frightening Vicenzo, the ordinary librarian I believed him to be, I had hidden my identity as the principessa of the Moretti family.

Also, to keep from being found by my family and my fiancé, the don of the Carlini family, I had not touched a single cent of family money. Instead, I chose to earn it with my fists in places piled with the dead.

So it seemed my endurance and sacrifice were nothing more than a taming game in their eyes.

I stood behind the half-closed door, gripping the check soaked in sweat and blood.

The amount was 1.5 million euros.

That was what I earned in five years after breaking three ribs, fracturing my left arm seventeen times, and receiving more than two hundred stitches across my body.

I steadied my breathing, then raised my hand. With a sharp crack, I snapped my dislocated left arm back into place without a change in expression.

The pain was blinding, and cold sweat poured down my back, yet I did not even furrow my brow.

I pushed the door open, and the atmosphere inside instantly became cold.

Capo Mario, who had been kneeling on the floor, reacted instantly. The second the door moved, he sprang up, and the respectful look on his face twisted into something vicious.

“You b*tch! Got the money yet?” Mario kicked over the broken chair beside him and jabbed a finger at me as he cursed. “If you can’t pay today, I’ll sell your son to Nafles as child labor!”

In the past, I would have begged him for a few more days and shielded Luca behind me while trembling.

Now, I only found it laughable.

Vicenzo rose from the couch at once. The cold arrogance on his face vanished, replaced by the cowardice and concern I once trusted without question.

He rushed to stand in front of me, his voice shaking. “Mr. Mario, please don’t hurt my wife. We’re thinking of a solution…”

If I hadn’t heard everything just moments ago, I truly would have believed him.

“The money isn’t ready,” I said evenly. “I’m not treating him anymore.”

The room fell into dead silence.

Vicenzo froze, panic flickering in his eyes. “Eva, what are you saying? Luca’s illness can’t be delayed—”

“I said I’m not treating him.”

I stepped around him and walked toward the son who was still pretending to tremble.

Luca hid behind Elena, and the child who had just rejected me as his mother was now staring at me as if I were a monster.

“Luca, come here,” I said, extending my hand.

The bandages wrapped around it had darkened, and my knuckles were thick with calluses and dried blood.

Luca screamed and shrank back in disgust. “Don’t touch me! Your hands are dirty! They stink!”

Elena covered her nose with feigned surprise. “Eva, where have you been? Why do you smell like rotting flesh? Don’t bring germs near Luca. His body is weak.”

She wore an expensive custom silk gown.

I, on the other hand, wore a cheap jacket bought from a street stall, my body carrying the mixed scent of ointment and blood.

Vicenzo frowned and reached for me. “Eva, go shower. Don’t scare the child. I’ll go beg Mr. Mario…”

I stepped away from his hand.

“There’s no need to beg.”

I looked at Mario, the man who barked orders at me in the cage arena, now standing awkwardly. His eyes were also drifting toward Vicenzo for direction.

“Since the money can’t be repaid, I won’t repay it.”

Mario sneered and pulled out a dagger.

“Then don’t blame me. I’ll take one of your legs first!”

He lunged.

At his level, it was fast. In my eyes, though, it was painfully slow.

I shifted aside, raised my hand, seized his wrist, and twisted it back.

“Ah!”

With the crack of bone, the dagger slipped from his hand.

I caught it in one motion and pressed it to his throat.

“A soldato should know his place. Since when was it your turn to draw a blade in front of me?”

The room went silent.

The coward’s mask on Vicenzo’s face nearly split.

Elena’s eyes widened as if she had seen a ghost.

Mario was drenched in sweat, and in horror, he realized he could not break free from my grip.

“You… you’re insane! I belong to the Carlini family!”

I gave a cold laugh, the tip of the blade breaking his skin as a bead of blood surfaced.

“The Carlini family?

“Even your don wouldn’t dare speak to me like that.”