นางบำเรอของมาเฟีย

In my previous life, my mafia husband conspired with his mistress to let me burn alive. I never expected God to give me the chance to live again.

This time, I would make the complete opposite choice. I would escape far away and live well.

"Mr. Marino said no one from the Moretti family is welcome at his celebratory party."

I looked at the burly bodyguard in front of me. His hand rested on the gun holster at his waist, his tone dripping with obvious contempt.

"Are you certain those are Vincenzo's exact words?" I asked calmly.

"Word for word, miss." He grinned. "Now, please leave."

I stood outside the iron gates of the Marino family's estate, staring at the brightly lit mansion inside.

Tonight was the celebratory party for Vincenzo Marino's promotion to Underboss. Every important figure in Elgano's mafia world was inside. However, I, Rosalie Moretti, Vincenzo's fiancée, was locked out.

I felt no anger, no heartbreak. Instead, I felt a strange sense of relief because I knew all of this would end.

I turned and walked toward the Maserati parked by the roadside. My heels clicked crisply against the gravel path.

The bodyguards whispered behind me, probably mocking the pitiful woman humiliated by her own fiancé. However, they had no idea that I had already died once.

In my last life, I desperately tried to please Vincenzo to maintain the alliance between the Moretti and Marino families. I even pushed for our engagement myself.

I thought if I was docile and considerate enough, he would eventually fall in love with me.

I was absurdly wrong.

Though I married him as I wished, I was met with nothing but neglect after our wedding. Three years into our marriage, his first love, Adriana Costa, came back from Arup.

She arrived with a tragic story about being kidnapped by a rival family and a pitifully delicate face. Vincenzo believed every word she made up.

Even more ridiculous, when Adriana claimed the kidnappers knew her whereabouts because I had leaked the information, Vincenzo believed her without hesitation.

"You're jealous of her, so you plotted to kill her." That night, he said that to me with disgust brimming in his eyes. "You vicious woman!"

From that moment on, I became a prisoner of the Marino estate. Vincenzo placed me under house arrest in the west wing and had me monitored around the clock. I could not leave the estate, could not contact outsiders, and could not even call home.

He told everyone I was 'ill' and needed rest. Meanwhile, Adriana, the supposed victim, brazenly moved into the main bedroom and became the true mistress of the estate.

I was imprisoned for an entire year.

On that final night, flames devoured every inch of the west wing. When I woke up choking on smoke, I discovered the door had been locked from the outside. I shattered the window to try and escape, only to see Vincenzo and Adriana standing in the garden, quietly watching the fire.

Under the moonlight, Adriana's belly was swollen and round. She was pregnant.

At that moment, I understood everything. This 'accidental' fire was meant to completely eliminate me as an obstacle.

As the flames burned my body, I heard Adriana's laughter. It was clear, delighted, and filled with pure excitement.

Then, I died.

When I opened my eyes again, I was 22 years old. I came back to the night of the celebratory party for Vincenzo's promotion to Underboss.

In my last life, I would have cried outside the gate, called to beg his forgiveness, and even knelt before those bodyguards while pleading to be let in.

I remembered how the night went down in my last life. I stood outside the gate for three hours. It was only after I twisted my ankle that I left in humiliation. After returning home, I called Vincenzo 17 times and sent countless apologetic text messages.

The next morning, I even bought his favorite Koban cigars and personally delivered them to the estate, kneeling before everyone to beg for his forgiveness.

Back then, I thought if I was humble and obedient enough, he would try to accept me. However, in this life, I felt nothing but gratitude that none of it had happened yet.

I had only one thought, and that was to escape.

I started the Maserati. The headlights illuminated the statue at the estate entrance.

The statue had witnessed much of the Marino family's bloody history. It had also witnessed my humiliation and death in my previous life.

I rolled down the window, and the night breeze scattered my long hair. I took one last look at the brilliantly lit estate and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

Now that I had been given a second chance at life, I would start my life anew.

I said goodbye to Vincenzo and to that foolish version of myself.

I would live my life to the fullest this time, and I would tear up that damned marriage contract with my own hands.