Chapter 1

Isabella's POV

Eight years ago, I was forced to marry Sicily's most dangerous man.

Louis De Santis, heir to the Santis crime family, decided he wanted me. Right in front of me, he brutally tortured and killed my fiancé Alessandro, then dumped the body in the ocean for the sharks. He used Alessandro's blood to write threats on the wall to my parents—I had no choice but to walk into that fortress he called home.

Louis was obsessed with me to the point of madness. He took bullets for me during family wars, got down on his knees and begged the family elders when they questioned his choice. Under that twisted kind of love, I gradually fell for him and gave him a son—Marco.

For five years, I thought I'd found happiness.

Until year eight, when the Corleone family sent their "peace offering"—Angelina Corleone. This innocent-looking woman effortlessly stole Louis's heart. He had the nerve to announce: "You two are going to get along."

I couldn't stand the betrayal, so I secretly reached out to other families to try getting rid of Angelina.

I got caught.

In his rage, Louis strung up 5-year-old Marco above the blast furnace at the steel mill.

"NO! Please! He's just a child!" I rushed toward Louis frantically, but his men held me back.

Molten steel roared inside the furnace at 2912°F. Scorching heat blasted upward as little Marco dangled just ten feet above the flames.

My heart nearly stopped.

"Mommy! Help me! It's so hot! So hot!" Marco screamed in terror.

"Put him down! Please!" I fell to my knees, begging desperately, "Kill me! Kill me instead! Don't hurt Marco!"

"Nod and let her stay, and I'll let him down." Louis coldly began counting down: "TEN!"

I watched Marco's little body writhing in agony from the heat.

"NINE!"

Sweat and tears blurred my vision.

"EIGHT!"

"I agree! I AGREE!" I broke down screaming, "She can stay! Please let Marco down!"

Louis smiled with satisfaction and stopped counting, about to signal his men.

Then—

"SNAP!"

The rope suddenly broke!

"NOOO—!"

Time seemed to freeze. I watched helplessly as Marco's tiny body plummeted.

"THUD!"

He fell into the furnace.

In an instant, he was gone.

I completely shattered, blood spurting from my mouth as I collapsed.

When I opened my eyes again, I'd gone back to the day Louis first brought Angelina home.

This time, I'm going to make him pay!


"Listen up. Starting today, Angelina Corleone is my woman, the new lady of the Santis family."

Louis looked around the room as everyone lowered their heads under his intimidating stare.

"Anyone who disrespects her will answer to me."

All eyes turned to me.

I just looked at him calmly and nodded: "Fine. I understand."

The entire room went dead silent.

Uncle Antonio's eyes widened, cousin Matteo's jaw dropped, even the hitmen in the corners looked shocked. I'd been raising hell about Louis marrying Angelina for days, and now I was just... calm?

Louis narrowed those dark green eyes: "You better not be playing games with me, Isabella."

He strode over and grabbed my chin roughly: "I hate being lied to. You know what happens then."

"I'm not playing games." I met his eyes directly, "You've already decided."

Angelina spoke up timidly: "Isabella... thank you for understanding..."

I glanced at her and smiled faintly, saying nothing.

Keep acting, sweetheart.

Louis released my chin, nodding with satisfaction: "Here's how this works—Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are mine. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are Angelina's turn. Sundays we all have dinner together, and you two will get along. Understood?"

He paused, his voice turning icy: "Anyone who causes trouble will regret it."

"I understand the rules." I lowered my eyes submissively, "You're the boss here. Your word is law."

This pleased Louis immensely, and he smiled dangerously: "Good. That's the smart Isabella I know."

Then Louis decided to hold Angelina's initiation ceremony right there in the main hall.

He pulled out the silver dagger that had been passed down for three generations, cutting his palm in front of everyone as blood dripped into a gold chalice.

"Angelina Corleone, in the name of the Santis ancestors, do you swear loyalty to this family?" Louis's voice was solemn and commanding.

"I do," Angelina answered obediently.

Louis used his bloody finger to draw a cross on her forehead, then poured red wine into the chalice. The blood mixed with wine, creating a dark crimson glow.

"Drink it. Blood bond, life and death together."

Angelina took the cup. The metallic smell of blood nearly made her gag, but under Louis's expectant gaze, she tilted her head back and drank the blood-wine mixture.

"From now on, she's Santis blood." Louis raised the bloody dagger, scanning everyone present, "Betrayers die."

His gaze finally settled on me: "Isabella, welcome our new family member."

I clapped mechanically, sneering inside.

She didn't just drink blood-wine—she drank her own death sentence.

"Tomorrow night I'm throwing a welcome party for Angelina, announcing her status to all of Sicily." Louis looked at me with a command: "Isabella, you'll handle all the arrangements."

Making me throw a party for his mistress—how classy.

But I smiled and agreed: "No problem. I'll take care of everything."

Louis nodded approvingly, then in front of everyone, kissed the corner of Angelina's mouth: "Remember, baby, you're mine now."

I watched this scene quietly, feeling nothing.

In my past life, that kiss would have torn me apart. Now I just felt sick.

"I'm tired. Going to rest." I turned to leave.

"Isabella." Louis called out, his voice low, "Don't disappoint me."

"Of course not." I headed upstairs without looking back.


Back in the bedroom, little Marco was building blocks on the bed. When he saw me come in, he immediately ran over: "Mommy! It was so noisy downstairs. Did we have visitors?"

The moment I saw Marco, all my pretense crumbled.

I pulled him into my arms as tears silently fell. My poor baby...

"Why is Mommy crying?" Marco wiped my tears with his little hands.

I quickly dried my eyes, forcing a smile: "Mommy's fine, just missed Marco so much."

"But Marco was right here!" the little guy laughed innocently.

"Marco," I held him tight, "if we had to leave here someday, would you come with Mommy?"

"Where would we go?"

"Somewhere beautiful, with ocean and sunshine, and no bad people."

Marco nodded vigorously: "Marco will go anywhere with Mommy!"

I kissed his forehead, my mind made up.

This time, I'm taking Marco and getting out of this hell.

After Marco fell asleep, I pulled a phone from the back of a drawer.

That person had once said if I ever needed help, to call him.

I gripped the phone tightly—he was my only hope now.

Taking a deep breath, I made the call.

"Isabella?"

"I need your help."

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