The Mafia Heiress Returns for Revenge
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"Who are you, really?" Lewis, the ruthless Mafia Godfather, cornered me in the elevator, his eyes filled with a twisted obsession as his fingers grazed the black butterfly tattoo on my collarbone.
He is completely addicted to my new face, my coldness, and my ruthless Wall Street tactics.
He is even willing to kick his beloved mistress out of the boardroom just to keep my attention.
If only he knew that beneath this flawless skin lies a map of scars—melted by the boiling soup he personally poured over my head.
If only he knew that I am his "dead" wife. The naive woman he threw into a sub-zero freezer to rot in agony, just to inherit his father's inheritance.
Instead of panicking, I grab his tie, pulling him close with a mocking smile. "I'm your worst nightmare, Lewis."
I survived the ice and thirty-five surgeries just to return from hell.
He thinks he is hunting a dangerous new prey, but I came back to strip him of his empire and his life.
He is completely addicted to my new face, my coldness, and my ruthless Wall Street tactics.
He is even willing to kick his beloved mistress out of the boardroom just to keep my attention.
If only he knew that beneath this flawless skin lies a map of scars—melted by the boiling soup he personally poured over my head.
If only he knew that I am his "dead" wife. The naive woman he threw into a sub-zero freezer to rot in agony, just to inherit his father's inheritance.
Instead of panicking, I grab his tie, pulling him close with a mocking smile. "I'm your worst nightmare, Lewis."
I survived the ice and thirty-five surgeries just to return from hell.
He thinks he is hunting a dangerous new prey, but I came back to strip him of his empire and his life.















































