Reborn, I Ruined Their Perfect Life

Isabella POV

The cold steel of the Italian dagger sliding into my abdomen didn't hurt nearly as much as the look in my husband's eyes.

Alistair Marshall, the man I had bled for, the man who was to be officially crowned Don of the Chicago outfit by The Commission tomorrow, twisted the blade.

"Why?" I choked out, tasting copper as I stared up at him in our master suite.

"Because a Don needs a true Mafia Queen," Alistair whispered, his handsome face a mask of cruel indifference. "And that was always meant to be Kylie."

Kylie Townsend. The woman he had always claimed was just a fragile friend in need of protection.

"The war..." I gasped, my blood soaking into the Persian rug. "I bought you those Thompson submachine guns. I laundered the money through my trusts. I won you this city!"

"And Kylie gave me the inspiration to use them," he sneered, pushing the dagger deeper, pinning me to the floor. "The men think she's my lucky charm. They respect her. You? You're just a merchant's daughter with a fat bank account. An account I finally control."

My vision blurred, but his next words pierced deeper than the blade.

"You thought I was your savior two years ago? When you woke up in the Irishman's bed?" He let out a dark, humorless laugh. "My mother and Adina orchestrated that little frame-up, Isabella. But I gave the order. I needed you terrified. I needed you to sign over your assets to prove your loyalty after 'betraying' me with Hoy Casey."

Every sacrifice, every lie I had told to protect him, turned to ash. Five years of marriage, built entirely on a foundation of my stolen wealth and his fabricated glory.

He leaned in closer to watch the life leave my eyes. That was his fatal mistake.

My trembling fingers found the six-inch steel hatpin securing my updo. With a final, guttural scream fueled by pure Vendetta, I drove the pin upward, burying it deep into his carotid artery.

Alistair's eyes widened in absolute shock. Hot blood sprayed across my face as he collapsed beside me, clutching his throat, choking on his own betrayal.

I didn't have long. The darkness was pulling me under. But I would be damned if I left my empire for Kylie to inherit. Dragging my heavy, bleeding body toward the nightstand, I shoved the ornate kerosene lamp.

It shattered. The flames eagerly devoured the spilled fuel, racing across the rug and climbing the velvet curtains. I lay in the pooling blood, smiling as the fire consumed the master suite, consuming the monster I had loved.

The roaring flames swallowed me whole. The blistering heat seared my skin, melting away the pain, the betrayal, the life I had known.

Then, the burning stopped.

The suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the cloying scent of lavender and the bitter aftertaste of chloral hydrate on my tongue.

I gasped, my eyes snapping open.

I wasn't in the burning master suite. I was lying on a plush mattress, staring up at a familiar, vaulted ceiling. The heat wasn't from an inferno; it was from a crackling fire in the hearth of the Marshall Estate's secluded guest suite.

My stomach was intact. No blood. No dagger.

My head spun with a heavy, drug-induced lethargy. I knew this feeling. I knew this room.

Outside the heavy oak door, a hushed, irritated voice broke the silence.

"Why isn't that damn Irishman, Casey, here yet?"

Adina.

My heart slammed against my ribs. The frame-up. The night that ruined my standing in the family and handed Alistair the chains to bind me. I hadn't just survived the fire. I had been thrown back into the very flames that started it all.

Isabella POV

My heart slammed against my ribs, the heavy, drug-induced lethargy fighting against the sudden spike of adrenaline in my veins. The frame-up. The night that handed Alistair the chains to bind me and ultimately end my life.

Outside the heavy oak door of the guest suite, Adina's hushed, irritated voice cut through the crackling of the hearth.

"Why isn't that damn Irishman, Casey, here yet?" Adina hissed, her footsteps pacing the hallway.

"I gave her the chloral hydrate, just as you asked, Signorina," a second voice trembled. Carla. The maid I had once tipped generously, now a rat scurrying at Adina's feet.

"Good. Make sure the dose is heavy enough," Adina snapped. "I want her completely pliant when Casey walks in. Once the guards catch them, it's treason. The penalty for a Mafia wife sleeping with a rival boss is a bullet to the head. And her little merchant trust fund? It defaults back to the Marshall family. I already have my eye on a Tiffany diamond necklace that peasant doesn't deserve. Kylie is the only one fit to be our Queen."

"But what if the Don finds out we orchestrated it?" Carla whimpered.

Adina let out a cruel, mocking laugh. "Alistair ordered this himself. He called from the front lines an hour ago." Adina's voice dropped, mimicking her brother's cold, authoritative baritone. "'Kylie's intuition is like God's guidance. This turf war will be over in ten days. Isabella's usefulness has run its course. Handle it.'"

The words hit me harder than the drug in my blood.

My limbs felt like lead, the chloral hydrate dragging me toward a dark abyss. If I stayed in this bed, Hoy Casey would walk through that door, and my death sentence would be sealed all over again.

I forced my heavy body to roll. I hit the floorboards with a dull thud, biting my lip until I tasted copper to keep myself awake. I dragged myself toward the corner table.

A kerosene lamp flickered there, casting long, dancing shadows. It was a poetic echo of my death.

With a trembling, desperate hand, I reached up and shoved the heavy glass base.

It shattered against the hardwood. The spilled fuel caught the wick's flame instantly. Fire roared to life, eagerly devouring the Persian rug and leaping onto the heavy velvet drapes.

The heat washed over my face, and staring into the inferno, a memory I had buried clawed its way to the surface.

I was standing in Alistair's study, offering him ledgers of legitimate businesses that could double our territory's wealth. He hadn't even glanced at the numbers. He had just looked at me with pure disgust.

"Keep your merchant arithmetic out of my sight, Isabella," he had sneered, pouring himself a bourbon. "You reek of money, a stench you'll never wash off. You don't understand honor. A true Mafia Queen, a woman like Kylie... her value is carved into her bloodline, not scribbled in a ledger."

The memory fueled the fire in my veins, burning away the last of my fear. He and Kylie Gallo had planned my demise from the very beginning.

Smoke began to fill the room, thick and choking. Outside the door, Adina shrieked as the smell of burning fabric reached the hallway.

"Fire! Get the guards!" she screamed, her footsteps retreating in a panic.

The trap was broken. The chaos of the flames would draw the Soldiers and servants, keeping Hoy Casey far away from this suite. I pushed myself up, using the wall for support. I needed to move before the smoke inhalation finished what the drug started. I had to navigate through the blinding smoke and find the storage closet in the servant's quarters. I had to find Adrienne.

Isabella POV

The acrid smell of burning velvet and wood filled my lungs, but the choking smoke was my salvation. Down the hall, the heavy boots of Marshall Soldiers thundered against the floorboards, their shouts echoing through the estate as the fire alarm finally wailed. The chloral hydrate still pulled at my limbs like a dark tide, but the pure, unadulterated adrenaline of my Vendetta kept me moving.

I slipped past the chaos, pressing my back against the cold plaster of the servant's corridor. I knew exactly where they would hide her.

The storage closet at the end of the hall was locked, but the cheap mechanism was no match for the heavy silver hairpin I pulled from my messy updo. A sharp twist, a satisfying click, and I pushed the door open.

The stench of mothballs and dust hit me. In the dim light, Adrienne was bound to a chair, a filthy rag shoved into her mouth. Her eyes, wide with sheer terror, flooded with tears the second she saw me.

I dropped to my knees, my fingers working frantically at the coarse ropes. "I've got you," I whispered, pulling the gag from her mouth.

Adrienne gasped for air, her whole body trembling. "Signorina... thank God. They drugged you. Adina and Donna Carmella... they planned it all."

"I know," I said, helping her to her feet. "But I need to know the rest. Why Hoy Casey?"

"The bootlegging routes," Adrienne sobbed, clinging to my arm. "The Marshalls are losing the turf war. Carmella promised the Irishman the western smuggling channels if he played along. They were going to let him have you in the secluded guest room, then send the guards in to catch you. Treason. They wanted you dead and your trust fund in their pockets."

A cold, hollow laugh threatened to escape my throat. My husband, Alistair, and his family were willing to sell my life to a rival boss just to secure a liquor route and a diamond necklace.

"Where is the room?" I asked, my voice devoid of any warmth.

"The east wing. Room four," she stammered.

"Good." I turned toward the dormant fireplace in the servant's quarters and picked up a heavy, solid brass poker. The metal was freezing against my palm. "Stay behind me."

We moved swiftly through the shadows. The fire in my suite had drawn everyone to the west wing, leaving the east corridors eerily deserted. Just as we neared the intersection, hurried footsteps and panicked cursing broke the silence.

"The fire wasn't part of the plan! If she burns to death before Casey gets to her, the deal is off!" Adina's shrill voice echoed, followed by the frantic scurrying of Carla, the rat.

I pressed myself against the alcove, gripping the brass poker with both hands. As Carla rounded the corner first, her eyes darting nervously, I stepped out of the darkness.

I didn't hesitate. I swung the heavy brass rod, catching Carla squarely on the back of her neck. A sickening crack echoed, and she crumpled to the floor like a broken doll, out cold.

Adina stopped dead in her tracks. The color drained from her arrogant face, her mouth opening to scream.

Before a single sound could escape her lips, I lunged forward and brought the hilt of the poker down hard against her temple. Adina's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a heap of expensive silk and pearls.

"Help me drag them," I ordered Adrienne, my heart beating in a slow, terrifyingly calm rhythm.

We shoved Carla into a nearby linen closet, locking it tight. Then, I grabbed Adina by her arms, hauling her dead weight down the hall and kicking open the door to Room four. I threw my sister-in-law onto the center of the luxurious mattress. With ruthless efficiency, I tore the expensive evening gown from her body, leaving her in nothing but her sheer, scandalous undergarments.

The trap was reset. The prey and the predator had just switched places.

I turned to Adrienne. She was staring at me, her breath hitching at the coldness she found in my eyes.

"Downstairs, Carmella's birthday party is in full swing," I said, my voice a deadly whisper. "Hoy Casey is waiting for a signal. I need you to go down there, find him, and tell him the lady of the house is waiting for him in Room four. Tell him she is eager."

Adrienne swallowed hard. She knew the reputation of the Irish boss. He was a monster who fed on the fear of women. Sending her to speak to him was a gamble with her life.

"Do you understand what I am asking of you?" I asked, stepping closer.

Adrienne looked at Adina's unconscious body, then back at me. The hatred for the family that had abused her hardened her features. She gave a single, resolute nod. "I will bring him to the slaughter, Signorina."

I watched her slip out the door and disappear down the corridor. A pang of guilt pierced my chest, but I crushed it instantly. To survive a world of wolves, I had to become the most ruthless one of all.

I turned and walked toward the French doors that led out to the estate gardens. The freezing Chicago wind whipped my face as I stepped into the snow-covered night, my hand slipping into my coat pocket to trace the cold, metallic edges of the detonator I had hidden there hours ago.