Reborn for My Baby’s Revenge
I took my newborn son to my husband’s mafia compound for his christening.
His ten-year-old niece, Bianca—the Family’s spoiled little princess—pushed my baby’s stroller straight into the deep end of the freezing pool.
My son sank to the bottom.
The clinking of champagne glasses drowned out his final struggles.
I dove in like a madwoman. But I only pulled out a cold, lifeless body.
Because Bianca was "Family blood," the murder was ruled a tragic accident.
My father-in-law, the Don, handed me a limitless black card as "compensation."
But I didn't want money. I wanted my son. I wanted my Nico!
I dropped to my knees. I begged my husband, Matteo, to avenge our baby.
Instead, he just held his crying niece and looked at me with dead eyes.
"Mandy, she’s just a child. Are you going to destroy one life over a mistake?"
Denied my vengeance, I wasted away in our penthouse that long winter, dying a broken woman.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the christening.
My husband’s arm was wrapped around my waist. His hot kisses trailed down my neck.
"Our boy will be blessed by the priest today."
I shoved him away instantly.
I called my personal guards. I had them rush my son safely to my family's estate.
But later that day, a tiny body still floated in the pool.