The Mafia ex wife's revenge

Chapter 1: I fell to my death!Elena's POV “What is this?” I asked, wide-eyed, my voice barely louder than a breath.The crisp papers in Dante’s hand shook my reflection back at me in the soft bedroom lighting. My heart was already beginning to pound in my chest, a dull throb that crawled up to my throat.Dante’s expression was unreadable, cold, detached. The man who once made me feel like the safest woman in the world now looked at me like I was a stranger.“Divorce papers,” he said flatly, his tone devoid of the warmth that used to soften even his cruelest words. “Obviously.”I stood frozen. The words didn’t compute.Divorce?“Dante…” I took a step forward, confused, trembling. “Why?”He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulled another file from inside his blazer and tossed it onto the table beside me with a sharp thwack. The pages spilled out in a messy heap—photocopies, emails, wire transfers, photos.“Why don’t you tell me?” he said, voice low and cutting. “Since you clearl

Chapter 3: "I am Sierra De Luca."Elena’s POVThe mirror didn’t lie.That was the problem.I stood before it barefoot, wrapped in silk, surrounded by a room that felt more like a museum than a bedroom. Everything was pristine, cold, expensive. Walls lined with ancient paintings. Dark velvet curtains drawn back to reveal a moonlit Sicilian landscape. Gilded furniture. Mahogany floors. A bed large enough to swallow me whole.But it wasn’t the room that unsettled me.It was the girl in the mirror.She was beautiful—fiercely so. Long raven-black hair. Pale skin, untouched by sun. High cheekbones, sculpted like a blade. Her frame was lean, athletic, graceful in a way I never was. She looked like she belonged in power. Like she owned it.But those weren’t my eyes.That wasn’t my face.Those weren’t my hands.This body wasn’t mine.I didn’t know how—or why—but I had awoken in someone else’s life.Sierra De Luca. Mafia heiress.The only daughter of Viktor De Luca—one of the most dangerous men

Chapter 5: Facing him..... Again!Viktor De Luca's soft touch at the tip of my fingers pulled me back to reality. I blinked and straightened, reminding myself—again that I was Sierra De Luca now. I wasn’t Elena tonight. I could never be her again, not after everything. I forced the ghost of her away and lifted my chin, straightening up my back and maintaining the composure I imagined sierra De Luca must have had when she was alive.I looked away from Dante and walked toward the red carpet beside my father. After a few steps, after all the formalities for the camera and the blinding flashes, he left my side, already shaking hands with men in tailored suits and practiced smiles. In my head, his voice echoed—the same words he had drilled into me for the last six months.“You are my heir now. You need to look like it. Own every room you walk into. There must not be a single sign of weakness in you when you face them.""Them" included Dante, it included Viviana, whom I now sought for with

Chapter 7: The little heiress Viviana's POV The drive home was painfully quiet. Raw anger from the event still lingered somewhere within.Dante was sitted beside me in the car, staring out the window the whole time, his eyes stayed locked on nothing, his mind clearly far away. I kept my gaze on the dark road, but every few seconds, my eyes slid toward him. He didn’t blink much. He just kept his head straight ahead. This wasn't a good sign. He was thinking about her.I didn’t need anyone to tell me that.My jaw tightened. The last time I had seen Dante have this reaction over a woman was two years ago. Elena, she has been taken out of the way.The scene from the ballroom kept playing in my mind like a broken film reel. The moment Sierra De Luca walked into that ballroom, Dante’s attention snapped to her like a magnet. I saw it right away, I noticed The way his eyes widened a little. The way he froze. I didn't know what it was, big something definitely flickered.Then he sneakily lef

Chapter 9: "Don't let your mask slip."The night air felt cool against my skin as I stood on the balcony, staring out into the darkness the way someone might stare into a mirror, quiet, uncertain, and full of questions I didn’t want answers to.The wind brushed past me in soft, restless waves, teasing the loose strands of my hair and carrying the scent of the garden below. It danced around me gently, as if trying to calm the storm brewing in my chest. I lifted the glass of wine to my lips, Dante’s favourite wine, the same I had ordered at the party, and let the taste linger there longer than necessary.I shouldn’t have been thinking about him.But I was. Or maybe I should, and it should be how to destroy him.I hadn’t expected the effect he would have on me at the party. One look from him and the carefully built walls I had spent the past six months constructing had trembled—just a little, but enough for me to notice. His eyes had locked with mine, and for a heartbeat, I had forgotte