I Faked My Death, He Lost His Soul
I woke up in the past, on the eve of being traded by my family to that controlling mafia Don.
Last life, his suffocating “love” and rigid rules strangled me to death. This time, watching my father’s eager face, I just smiled.
“The engagement? Give it to your precious illegitimate daughter.”
I walked away. Using the skills he forced me to learn, I secured my escape. On the day of his wedding to my replacement, I boarded a plane far from this gilded hell.
Just before leaving, I pressed a button.
The family mansion—the symbol of my old prison—erupted into a fireball behind me.
Now, I’m thriving under the Mediterranean sun, free and wild. The once-untouchable Don is scouring the globe for me, unraveling.
He found me at an airport, fell to his knees, his eyes desperate, begging me to come back.
I lowered my sunglasses and looked at this stranger, my ex-fiancé, my voice utterly calm.
“Do I know you?”