Chapter 1

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable.

I had three deadly protectors watching my back.

My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit.

He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown.

My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids.

And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else.

He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld.

On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything.

Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero.

And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name.

"Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is."

"Catherine, control yourself."

It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands.

"Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family."

"The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has."

For the sake of a lie, they stood by and let me be humiliated.

But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system.

I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.

...

"Sign it."

Raphael didn't wait for my response. He slid a document, sealed with blood-red wax, across the table to me.

The gesture was light, but the document landed with a crushing weight.

"Be a smart woman, Catherine."

"Sign this, and we'll say Salvatore's death was an accident, a random street shooting."

"That fire three years ago… Chiara risked her life for me and Luca. She has the scars to prove it."

"You know what scars like that mean for a woman's future."

The vast warehouse was terrifyingly silent. Soldati stood on either side of the long table, but not one dared to speak.

In the corner, Chiara clutched a tissue, her tears tracing the faint scar on her left cheek.

Raphael shot her a pained look before his gaze returned to mine, hard as steel.

"She's asking us to spare her worthless father. It's a matter of honor. We can't refuse."

"This is a blood debt, Catherine. As my wife, it's our burden to bear."

I looked down at the cold letters. They stated that Salvatore Leone died due to a personal dispute, unrelated to family affairs.

How absurd.

Just last night, these two bastards were up until dawn with me, planning our joint birthday party.

Last night, they were calling Salvatore 'brother', swearing eternal loyalty to the Leone family.

But today, they were using this pathetic excuse to force me to forgive the junkie who stabbed my brother to death.

I slowly picked up the blood-stained agreement and ripped it in half.

"Twenty-seven stab wounds to the chest. Every single one of his ribs broken. What kind of fool would believe that was an accident?"

"And that business three years ago… you still truly believe she saved you from that fire?"

Before I could finish, Chiara collapsed to the floor, her body trembling.

What an actress.

"Catherine, I swear to the Holy Mother, I'm begging you! My father is the only blood I have left in this world!"

"If you won't spare my father, then let me atone for his sins!"

"People like us, from the slums, we're different. We weren't born with a silver spoon in our mouths like you."

Luca rushed forward and swept Chiara into his arms.

"Enough, Catherine!"

"Whether you believe it or not, she saved our lives!"

"Besides, she's been by your side for years, like a sister to you. How can you be so heartless?"

At the sight, Raphael's face turned ashen.

"Catherine, I'll tell you this one last time."

"I've put the word out. No one in Chicago dares to defy an underboss."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, fighting back a wave of nausea. My hand reached for the candelabra, my fingertips brushing against the cold silver base.

For three years, I had sheathed my claws for him, playing the part of a dutiful wife, the perfect matriarch-in-waiting.

I believed they would protect me. I believed love could conquer all.

Only now, in the cold touch of the silver, did clarity return.

I shoved the candelabra.

The candles sputtered out, spattering hot wax as the silver base cracked against the marble tabletop.

The room plunged into deeper darkness.

I turned to face them, enunciating every word.

"Then open your goddamn eyes and watch me."

"I am Catherine Leone. I will not let my brother's blood be spilled for nothing."