Reborn: The Mafia Heiress They Abandoned

In my past life, the bullet chambered in the gun on the desk was less lethal than the indifference of the two men standing beside me.

Dante and Matteo were supposed to be the future kings of Chicago, and I was their queen.

But they threw it all away for Sofia—a liar with a pretty face and a fake sob story about a gambling father.

They forced me into a gilded cage, making me serve Sofia like a maid while they played her saviors.

They let me rot in isolation until I swallowed a bottle of pills just to escape the coldness of their neglect.

They didn't even mourn me; they were too busy comforting the girl who would eventually destroy them.

I died realizing that my loyalty was my fatal flaw.

I had worshipped men who saw me as nothing more than an accessory, while they sacrificed their empire for a woman who played them for fools.

But the universe has a sick sense of humor.

It sent me back.

Back to the day that sealed my fate.

The Consigliere pushed the assignment papers toward us—the path to becoming Bosses.

"We are not going," Dante said, looking at me with cold eyes. "Sofia needs us. She is fragile."

In my past life, I begged them to stay.

This time, I stepped forward and picked up the pen.

"I will go," I said, signing my name in sharp black ink.

"I don't need your protection anymore."

Chapter 1

Elena POV:

I stared at the gun resting on the mahogany desk, knowing that in my past life, the bullet chambered inside had been less lethal than the indifference of the two men standing beside me.

The Consigliere tapped his pen against the heavy oak, the sound echoing like a gavel in the oppressive silence of the office.

He looked at the two young men who were supposed to be the future kings of the Chicago Outfit.

Dante Cavallaro and Matteo Rizzoli.

They were blood of my blood—not by birth, but by the oaths we swore in the gutter when we were starving children.

In another life, I had married Dante.

I had worshipped Matteo.

And they had let me rot in a gilded cage until I swallowed a bottle of pills just to escape the coldness of their neglect.

But the universe has a sick sense of humor.

It sent me back.

Back to the day that sealed my fate.

The Consigliere pushed two papers toward them.

This was the invitation to the High Council in New York. It was the Ivy League of the underworld. It was the path to becoming a Boss.

Dante didn't even glance at the paper.

He looked at me, his dark eyes filled with a brooding intensity that used to make my knees weak.

Now, it just made me nauseous.

"We are not going," Dante said, his voice rough with the smoke of cheap cigarettes.

The Consigliere frowned.

"This is an order from the Commission,