Chapter 1

Before the day of my husband's succession as the Don, my stepsister personally tattooed the "Inverted Angel's Eye"—the mark of a traitor—onto my back.

My husband didn't just turn a blind eye; when the family vendetta broke out, he withdrew all the elite guards to protect my "pregnant" stepsister, leaving me alone in a defenseless city to face the slaughter.

"Elena, you are strong enough to protect yourself. But Sophia is fragile, and she is carrying my firstborn. She needs the protection more than you."

Facing a siege of heavy firepower, I survived by the skin of my teeth.

He thought I would swallow the insult for the sake of the family's reputation.

He didn't expect that I would kick open the doors of his coronation ceremony wearing mourning weeds, flanked by the FBI and the Commission, and personally strip him of his title.

"Goodbye, Lorenzo. This time, I choose to be the Don."

Chapter 1

Before the day when Lorenzo officially ascends as the Don, as his lawful wife, I must undergo the baptism of family glory at this sacred moment.

Sophia, my stepsister—the "Principessa" adopted by my father—insisted on personally tattooing the "Angel's Eye," the symbol of supreme family authority, onto my back.

The buzzing of the tattoo gun stopped. I looked into the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and my blood instantly froze.

The "Angel's Eye," which should have been looking down upon the masses, was inverted.

In the Code of Omertà, an inverted totem has only one meaning—a police informant, a rat.

Seeing the color drain from my face, Sophia peeled off her rubber gloves and blew the ink off the nozzle with a look of utter innocence.

"It's called deconstructionist art, Elena. Don't tell me you have zero taste?"

I grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table and smashed it at her.

The glass shattered against the wall, shards grazing Sophia's cheek.

In the next second, Lorenzo's powerful hand clamped around my wrist, shielding Sophia behind him.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes filled with warning.

"Sophia is our Principessa. She's just creating art. Have you lost your mind?"

I stared dead into Lorenzo's eyes.

This was the man I had loved for twelve years. Yet in this moment, he chose to be blind to the brand of shame on my back—a mark that warranted the death penalty by family law.

Sophia peeked out from behind him, a smirk of triumph on her lips, but her voice was dripping with feigned vulnerability.

"Lorenzo, you said you liked designs with a rebellious spirit. I just wanted to give her a surprise. Why is she treating me like this?"

My hands were trembling.

Before I could question him, the heavy oak doors of the study were pushed open.

Several Capos in black trench coats walked in, laughing.

"Are the Don-to-be and the Signora preparing for tomorrow's ritual?"

"The unity of the Corleone family is the bedrock of our rule over the European underworld."

"We heard the Signora is receiving the totem of glory. Let us have a look."

Before their voices faded, several sharp gazes landed on my exposed, uncovered back.

The warm compliments came to a screeching halt.

Cigars dropped from their mouths. Their eyes instantly turned dark and cold.

The entire room fell into a deathly silence, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder.

Only Sophia let out a soft laugh, like the whisper of a demon.

Lorenzo's face changed instantly. Subconsciously, he tried to hide Sophia behind him, blocking their scrutinizing stares.

"This is just a small accident."

Sophia pursed her lips, idly playing with the ring in her hand.

"Oops, my hand slipped just a little bit. It's barely inverted."

She glanced at the group of murderous Capos, relying on her status as the adopted daughter to be fearless.

"It's just a minor mistake, why so serious? Only someone with a guilty conscience would be so sensitive about a drawing, right?"

Lorenzo quickly took off his suit jacket and wrapped it tightly around me, covering the hideous "traitor" mark.

He looked at the men, his voice hard and carrying an unquestionable authority.

"Sophia is young and doesn't know the rules. It was an accident."

"You all watched her grow up; don't hold it against a child."

"For the sake of tomorrow's succession ceremony, this matter ends here."

Every word was a calculated chip.

Standing at the center of power, Lorenzo used the guise of maintaining the big picture to drive that knife ruthlessly into my heart.

Hearing this, I let out a cold laugh.

"An accident?"

"I don't accept that."

I slowly tightened the jacket around me, covering the totem that threatened death.

My fingernails dug into my palm, drawing blood, but I felt no pain.

I looked at Lorenzo and enunciated every word clearly.

"Since you, as the Don, cannot adjudicate fairly..."

"Then I will handle this according to my own rules."

I turned and walked out.

As the heavy wooden doors closed, I heard the faint murmurs from inside.

"The Signora's eyes were terrifying just now. She has the old Don's blood in her veins; this isn't over."

Consigliere Domine hesitated before speaking, "If the Signora makes a scene, tomorrow's ceremony..."

Lorenzo's voice carried a trace of exhaustion and certainty.

"She won't. I know Elena. She has a fiery temper, but for me, she can endure anything."

He paused, his tone deepening. "She loves me too much to disobey me."

The men seemed to relax, followed by the sound of clinking glasses.

I never imagined that Lorenzo, who once swore to protect me with his life, would choose to let me bear the suspicion of being a "rat" just to secure his power.

Immediately, someone laughed and flattered him: "True, the Don's charm is irresistible. The Signora will naturally do as she is told."

Standing in the shadows outside the door, looking at the shield crest on the wall that represented family glory, the corner of my mouth hooked into a cruel arc.

Do as I'm told?

Then I wouldn't be worthy of being Mafia.

I got into the bulletproof sedan and took out an encrypted satellite phone.

"Midnight."

"Kidnap Sophia and take her to the safe house in the East District."

"Also, prepare the sharpest skinning knife and a bucket of salt water. I'm going to personally teach her what true art is."

Chapter 2

It was just past eleven at night when the special priority alert on my encrypted satellite phone pinged.

Intelligence had intercepted a post just uploaded to the Dark Web.

I opened it. Sophia was smiling innocently at the camera. The background was the highest-level safe house Lorenzo had arranged for her protection.

The video had clearly been recorded just minutes ago.

"Did a little artistic touch-up on a certain high-and-mighty 'Signorina' today."

She waved the tattoo gun at the camera, ink still dripping from the nozzle, her eyes full of provocation.

"Guess what I gave her? An inverted 'Angel's Eye'! In the Corleone family, that is the brand of a rat."

"You guys didn't see it. She's pushing thirty, still acting like some untouchable heiress. I drove that ink deep into her dermis. She’ll have to carry that shame for the rest of her life."

The encrypted comment section was a carnival for her little lackeys: "Long live the Principessa!" "Nice work!"

Sophia grew more excited as she spoke, toying with the luxury goods Lorenzo had given her.

"I’ve seen plenty of women like her. Relying on their so-called bloodline, always acting dignified in front of the Made Men."

She sighed with feigned pity. "Too bad. No matter how much Elena struggles, it’s useless. Lorenzo is wrapped around my finger."

"Next time, I’ll livestream something even better—watch me kick Elena out of New York and become the true Mama of the Corleone family."

The video shook violently for a second, then cut off abruptly, as if something had breached the room.

I let out a cold laugh and turned off the screen.

Sophia.

I was the one who gave her that name.

Five years ago, during the riots in the slums of Naples, I found her in a pile of corpses.

A fifteen-year-old girl curled up in the gutter like a rat, covered in blood, nearly beaten to death over half a loaf of bread.

Her eyes held that desperate, beast-like will to survive.

Back then, she was just a nameless stray, clutching the hem of my muddy dress, begging for help.

In a moment of softness, I didn't just save her; I brought her before my father, the Godfather, and persuaded him to adopt her.

I gave her a new life, turning a beggar into the esteemed "Principessa" of the Corleone family.

Now, she was using the power and affection my father and I had given her to carve the brand of a "traitor" into my back.

To humiliate me in front of the entire family.

She even dared to covet my position in the hierarchy and destroy my marriage.

But what truly chilled my heart was Lorenzo.

He knew a daughter of the Corleone bloodline could not tolerate such humiliation. Yet, to maintain the facade of "sibling harmony" within the family, he chose to sacrifice my dignity.

I knew he might be tiptoeing around the old Don's dying wish to look after Sophia.

But I had no interest in a balancing act that came at my expense.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

It was an encrypted message from the leader of "The Soldatos"—the private paramilitary force my father had left solely to me:

"Elena, target secured. We bypassed Lorenzo's security detail. ETA twenty minutes to your private underground armory."

Twenty minutes later, the heavy blast doors of my underground armory slowly groaned open. Dozens of fully armed Soldatos stood at attention in two rows.

Two masked enforcers dragged Sophia in and threw her onto the cold concrete floor like a dead dog.

She struggled to look up. Her arrogant gaze was now filled with terror, especially when she saw the Corleone crests surrounding her.

"Elena! Are you crazy?"

Something clicked in her mind, and she screamed, her voice shrill but lacking real confidence.

"How dare you kidnap me without authorization! Lorenzo will never forgive you when he finds out!"

"I am a Princess of the Corleone family too! I represent the family's face! If you dare touch a hair on my head, the family won't let you off!"

I looked down at her and chuckled softly.

"When Lorenzo proposed to me, he swore he would never let me suffer the slightest grievance."

Her expression twisted for a moment.

I held a piece of white buckskin cloth, slowly and methodically polishing a silver antique revolver.

"Do you think that adopted title of yours allows you to walk all over me?"

She looked at the dark muzzle of the gun, and her body began to tremble violently.

*Click.*

I snapped the cylinder shut and elegantly chambered a round.

"You've got one thing wrong."

"I am not just Lorenzo's wife."

"I am the only Corleone Mama."

"In the world of Cosa Nostra, no one dares to insult me."

Chapter 3

I tossed the antique revolver onto the ammo crate.

For a traitor, a bullet was too merciful.

I took a sharp Sicilian stiletto off the torture rack. The blade reflected a cold gleam in the dim light.

That flash of cold metal caught my eye, and for a split second, I saw eighteen-year-old Lorenzo.

Back then, he was just an Associate not yet recognized by the family, wearing an ill-fitting cheap suit, standing in the rainy street.

As an outcast pushed aside by the family, he didn't even have a decent weapon.

Once, trying to reclaim a smuggled shipment for the family, he got two ribs broken and collapsed in an alley like a stray dog.

That was the first time I disobeyed my father's orders and used the family doctor to save him.

I shoved a stack of cash and a Browning engraved with the family crest into his hand.

But he stubbornly pushed the money back, his wolf-like eyes staring dead at me: "Miss Corleone, please leave me some dignity."

Since then, I just "happened" to provide him with intel and "conveniently" took care of a few hitmen watching him.

On Christmas Eve, he clutched two stone-cold sandwiches.

Amidst the church bells, he handed me a single rose, his hands covered in blood: "Elena, will you wait for me? Wait until I reach the top."

Years later, he stepped over countless corpses to become a high-ranking member of the Corleone family, eventually becoming the Underboss through my maneuvering.

That night, he knelt by my skirt and kissed the back of my hand.

"All those years living on the blade, I was terrified I wasn't worthy of your noble bloodline. I was scared you'd find out I fought in underground boxing rings all night just to buy you that rose."

It wasn't until we signed the marriage contract that he realized what a massive underground empire the name Corleone represented.

Lorenzo later told me that was the moment he understood.

"The finish line I clawed my way to was just your starting line."

To prove himself, Lorenzo became the most vicious "mad dog" in the Mafia world.

He frantically expanded territory and purged dissidents, just to stand tall beside me.

Unfortunately, the poison of power corroded everything.

The only warmth in this cruel world couldn't survive the erosion of profit.

"Are... are you really going to do it?"

Sophia's trembling voice pulled me back to reality.

I looked at the dagger in my hand, which I had only intended to use to scare her, my eyes cold.

"Since you like leaving marks on others, I'll give you one too."

I just wanted to cut her arm to teach her a lesson about the price of offending the family Mama.

However, a flash of madness suddenly appeared in Sophia's eyes.

Before I could react, she lunged at me, grabbed my wrist, and forced the blade into her own lower abdomen!

Blood instantly stained her white lace dress red.

"Ah—!"

A shrill scream echoed through the underground armory.

The next second, the heavy blast door was blown open from the outside.

Smoke cleared, and Lorenzo rushed in, radiating murderous intent.

He saw this scene: Sophia lying on the ground covered in blood, while I held the dripping dagger.

"Elena! What the hell are you doing!"

Lorenzo's roar made my eardrums ache.

Sophia clutched her wound, her face pale, weeping like a pear blossom bathed in rain.

"Lorenzo... help me..."

"She said... she said I stole your attention, and only if I died would you love her again..."

"She wants to kill me... to silence me..."

Lorenzo's pupils constricted sharply. In that instant, I saw real fear in his eyes.

He was afraid I had actually killed Sophia. He didn't trust me.

"Put the knife down, you psycho!"

Lorenzo charged at me like an out-of-control lion.

To stop the "crazy" me, he subconsciously shoved me hard.

He was too strong, possessing the explosive power honed from years of combat.

I lost my balance and fell backward, my forehead smashing heavily against the sharp corner of a redwood crate used for storing munitions.

There was a dull *thud*.

Warm liquid trickled down my forehead, instantly blurring my vision.

The pain nearly made me pass out, but I kept my eyes locked on Lorenzo.

He didn't even look at me.

He fell to his knees in a panic, carefully lifting the blood-soaked Sophia, his hands trembling.

"It's okay, Sophia. I'm here. I've got you."

"Doctor! Get the family doctor down here now!"

He roared, but when he turned to look at me, his eyes held only rage and disappointment.

"Elena, you are unbelievable!"

"Killing out of jealousy? When did you become so vicious?"

"If anything happens to Sophia, how am I supposed to explain this to the rest of the family?"

I leaned against the cold wooden crate, blood dripping onto the floor.

Watching him lose his mind over another woman, I suddenly remembered that rainy night when I was eighteen.

He was like this then, too, but back then, the person he was protecting was me.

To save me from stray bullets, he used his back to block all the shrapnel.

Back then, he said as long as he was alive, he wouldn't let me shed a single drop of blood.

I wiped the blood from my forehead and laughed coldly.

"Jealousy? Vicious?"

"Lorenzo, look closely. She stabbed herse..."

"Shut up!"

Lorenzo rudely cut me off. He had clearly decided I was just making excuses.

Seeing that Lorenzo wouldn't listen to a word, Sophia nestled in his arms, gasping weakly, and suddenly dropped the line she had prepared long ago.

"Lorenzo... save our baby..."

"I'm... I'm carrying your flesh and blood..."

"She knew I was pregnant... that's why she wanted to kill me..."

The air froze instantly.

Lorenzo stiffened. He looked down at the woman in his arms in disbelief, then jerked his head up to look at me, his eyes filled with hatred and suspicion.

Chapter 4

The air was thick with the stench of disinfectant .

Pavel, the Corleone family doctor, peeled off his bloodied rubber gloves. His eyes darted around, refusing to meet mine.

He wiped cold sweat from his forehead, turned to Lorenzo, and bowed deeply. His voice trembled but echoed clearly in the dead silence.

"Don, Sophia's wound... it looks alarming, but no internal organs were damaged."

Lorenzo's tense shoulders had just begun to relax when Pavel dropped the bombshell that shattered my last shred of dignity.

"However, during the examination, we discovered that Sophia is two months pregnant."

"That is the precious bloodline of the Corleone family. It is your child..."

In that instant, I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

I looked at Lorenzo.

The man I had loved for twelve years, the man who swore only I was worthy of bearing his heirs, now stood frozen.

There was no rage or denial as I had expected.

His eyes held shock at first, which was quickly replaced by a complex mix of wild ecstasy.

"Is it true? ...I have a child with you?"

He didn't even spare me a glance. He strode to the hospital bed and grasped Sophia's uninjured hand as if holding a rare treasure.

Sophia leaned weakly against the pillows, her face pale—perfectly staged.

In reality, that knife had barely scratched her skin; it didn't even need stitches.

But right now, she looked like a porcelain doll ready to shatter, tears clinging to the corners of her eyes as she looked up at him timidly.

"Lorenzo... I'm so sorry... I wanted to keep it from you."

"I know Elena hates me. If she knew I was carrying the family's firstborn, she would have killed me and the baby..."

"Just now in the basement, she wanted to drive that knife right into my stomach... I thought I was going to die."

She gasped for air, her body trembling violently with sobs, as if the psycho who had just stabbed herself wasn't her.

I stood in the corner, the wound on my forehead still oozing blood that stung my eyes.

But no one cared.

I watched this absurd farce with cold eyes.

"Lorenzo," I spoke, my voice raspy. "You believe her?"

Lorenzo whipped around, his gaze so unfamiliar it chilled me to the bone.

It was the look of a protector facing an intruder.

"The facts are right in front of us, Elena!"

He pointed at the grainy black-and-white image on the ultrasound machine, his tone harsh and unquestionable.

"This is my blood. This is the future of the family! And you nearly killed him with your own hands!"

"We are in the middle of a vendetta. Hitmen from rival families are targeting our every weakness."

"To protect this sole bloodline, I must make a decision."

He took a deep breath, issuing a Don's command that could not be defied.

"Prepare the private jet immediately. Send Sophia to 'Black Rock Fortress' in Sicily."

"It has the world's top defense systems. It is the ultimate safe zone."

I didn't get angry; instead, I laughed.

Black Rock Fortress.

That was a sanctuary reserved only for the acting Mama of the family. Now he was opening it for a mistress and a bastard.

"You're sending her to Sicily?" I stepped forward, forcing him to look at me. "Then where does that leave me?"

Lorenzo seemed stung by my gaze. He avoided my eyes, furrowing his brows.

"Elena, this isn't the time for petty jealousy."

He pressed his earpiece, connecting to the family's security channel.

"This is Don Corleone. Orders: immediately mobilize all elite members of the 'Shadow Guard' to escort Sophia to Sicily."

"Initiate S-Class protection protocols. I want zero mistakes!"

My pupils constricted sharply.

The Shadow Guard.

That was the last trump card my father left me, death squad soldiers who answered only to me. In this turbulent period of vendettas, they were my only amulet.

He was stripping away all my defenses for Sophia?

"Lorenzo!" I shouted. "That is *my* guard! If you withdraw them, what happens to me?"

"Every gangster in New York knows the family is vulnerable right now. Do you want me to die?"

Lorenzo turned and gripped my shoulders with both hands.

His grip was strong, hurting me.

His eyes held a trace of pain and struggle I couldn't read, but his tone was coldly matter-of-fact.

"Elena, you're different."

"You've had the best combat training since you were a child. Your marksmanship is better than many of my Capos."

"You are strong enough. You have the ability to take care of your own safety."

He glanced at Sophia on the bed, who looked weak enough to expire at any moment, and his gaze instantly softened.

"But Sophia can't. She's too fragile. She's pregnant, and that is my firstborn son."

"She and the child need this protection more than you do."

I looked at the man in front of me.

How righteously he spoke.

Because I was strong, I deserved to be abandoned?

Because she was weak, she could rightfully steal everything from me?

I slapped his hands away, took two steps back, and leaned against the cold wall.

Blood from my forehead dripped onto the pristine white floor tiles, blooming into glaring red flowers.

The last spark of hope in my heart was finally extinguished in that moment.

"Fine."

I heard my own voice, calm to the point of being eerie.

"Since you want to save her, then take everyone."

"I hope that in the future, you won't regret today's decision."

Lorenzo looked at the resolve in my eyes and felt a sudden, inexplicable panic.

He opened his mouth, seeming to want to explain: "Elena, once the heat dies down, I will..."

I pointed at the door.

"Take your Princess and your firstborn, and get the hell out of my sight immediately."

Chapter 5

The whir of the helicopter rotors faded completely into the night sky.

The vast Corleone estate was now as silent as a tomb.

To ensure Sophia's absolute safety during the transport, Lorenzo hadn't just taken the "Shadow Guard"; he had even pulled every single Soldato from the estate.

All he left me were a few elderly servants and a mansion so empty it was unnerving.

Clutching the hastily bandaged gauze on my forehead, I sat in the old leather chair my father had left behind, staring at the pitch-black night outside. The instinct of prey being stalked sent a chill down my spine.

News traveled too fast.

The Don had left New York, taking his elite forces with him, leaving a wounded Mama to guard an empty fortress.

For the rival families who had been lying in wait, this was an invitation to a feeding frenzy.

*Boom!*

A deafening blast shattered the bulletproof glass of the French windows. A heatwave carrying shards of glass rushed into the living room.

It was the smell of C4.

The estate's wrought-iron gates were blown open, and ear-piercing alarms cut through the long night.

I sprang from the chair, grabbed the gun off the table, and rushed to the surveillance room.

On the screen, a dozen black SUVs stormed into the estate like greedy hyenas. The doors flew open, revealing masked hitmen armed with submachine guns.

On their chests, they wore red scorpion badges—the symbol of the Moretti family, the Corleones' sworn enemy for a century.

"Signora! They've breached the perimeter!" Old Rossi, the butler, stumbled in, clutching an old hunting rifle. "We don't have enough men. We can't hold them back!"

Bullets rained down on the outer walls of the main building.

Gritting my teeth, I dialed the only number I could.

It was Lorenzo's private satellite phone, my only lifeline.

The phone rang for a long time before it picked up.

What came from the other end wasn't a hail of gunfire, but the sound of the Sicilian sea breeze and the crisp clink of wine glasses.

"Elena?" Lorenzo's voice sounded weary. In the background, I could hear Sophia's soft, flirtatious laughter. "I just landed in Sicily. If you're calling to argue about what happened earlier, I don't have the energy..."

"Lorenzo! The Morettis are attacking!"

I screamed into the phone, ducking to avoid stray bullets flying through the window.

"The perimeter is breached! They have heavy weapons! I have no men here. You need to order the nearest branch to send backup immediately!"

There was silence on the other end for two seconds.

Then came Sophia's terrified, tearful voice.

"Lorenzo... is Elena trying to trick you into coming back again?"

"The Morettis haven't clashed with us in ages... Is she trying to lure us back to New York?"

"After all, she won't accept our baby..."

Such a clumsy lie, yet Lorenzo actually believed it.

His breathing instantly grew heavier.

"Elena, that's enough."

His voice was as cold as the Sicilian sea in winter, filled with deep disappointment and disgust.

"You'd make up a lie like this just to get me back? You'd joke about the family's safety?"

"I've suppressed the Morettis so hard they don't dare show their faces. How could they possibly attack the estate now?"

A bullet struck the doorframe of the surveillance room, sending splinters flying into my face.

I gripped the phone in disbelief, my knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"Listen to the gunfire! Lorenzo! I am your wife! Would I lie to you about this?"

I held the phone toward the window; the rapid gunfire was clearly audible.

But from the other end came Sophia's scream: "Ah! My stomach... it hurts... Lorenzo, is the baby okay..."

"Sophia! Doctor! Get a doctor, now!"

Lorenzo's voice turned frantic instantly, all his attention stolen by that woman once again.

When he returned to the phone, his tone held zero patience, only unquestionable rage.

"Elena, I forbid you from playing these games! Sophia nearly miscarried just now because of your threats!"

"The estate has plenty of defenses. Even if there is an attack, you can handle it!"

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're playing the victim to force me to give up Sophia and the child. Let me tell you, it's not happening."

"Don't call me again until you learn to be as magnanimous as a proper Mama should be."

*Click—beep—beep—*

The line went dead.

The dial tone in the receiver interlaced with the approaching sounds of slaughter outside. It was incredibly ironic.

I slowly lowered the phone.

In that moment, I heard my own heart break. It was louder than the explosions outside.

He believed her.

Even when I was cornered, even when a gun was pointed at my head, he still thought I was just being a jealous woman.

In his heart, that "fragile" Sophia was ten thousand times more important than my life, than the Corleone ancestral home, than the glory of this place.

"Signora..." Old Rossi looked at me, his cloudy eyes full of despair. "Is the Don not sending anyone?"

The gunfire downstairs was closing in on the stairwell.

I took a deep breath and wiped away the single tear that hadn't yet fallen.

When I opened my eyes again, I might not have been Lorenzo's wife anymore, but I was still the daughter of the old Godfather.

"Uncle Rossi, open Sector B of the underground armory."

I ripped off the cumbersome hem of my gown and drew the Beretta that had been with me for years from the holster on my thigh.

"Since the Don has abandoned this place, I will defend it."

I turned to look at the few trembling servants who hadn't fled and the loyal old bodyguards behind me.

"Tell everyone not to wait for backup."

"We've been discarded."

"But this is the root of the Corleone family. This is the empire my father built."

I racked the slide. The sound of the bullet chambering was exceptionally crisp in the smoke-filled room.

"Even if I bleed my last drop, I will never hand this place over."

I took one last look at the photo of Lorenzo and me on the table.

In the picture, he was on one knee, swearing to protect me with his life.

I raised my hand and shot the frame.

Glass shards flew everywhere, just like our past that could never be restored.

"Goodbye, Lorenzo."

"I will protect my family myself."

I kicked the door open, faced the hitmen rushing up the hallway, and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 6

The sunlight in Sicily was blindingly bright.

Lorenzo stood in his bespoke black suit in front of the high-backed red velvet chair that symbolized supreme power.

He must have been glancing at the entrance from time to time.

He was waiting for me.

After all, in our countless arguments before, I was always the one to bow my head first.

He was certain that, for the sake of the family's face and our so-called "marital bond," I would swallow all my grievances and attend his coronation.

However, seconds turned into minutes, and the heavy doors remained shut.

The anxiety in Lorenzo's eyes grew intense. Subconsciously, he twisted the ruby pinky ring that represented the power of the Don.

"Stop looking, Lorenzo."

Sophia, dressed in a white lace gown even more lavish than a Mama’s ceremonial dress, intimately linked her arm through his, practically pressing her entire body against him.

She stroked her flat stomach and whispered in his ear like a snake hissing venom.

"Elena isn't coming. She was just putting on a show last night to trick you. Since you didn't go back, she's definitely throwing a tantrum."

"Today is a big day for the family. All the Elders are watching. For the sake of stability, you can't let us become a laughingstock. I will stand by your side as your companion to witness the moment you become the Don of the Corleone family."

Lorenzo looked at the woman beside him, then at the empty entrance. The flicker of expectation in his eyes finally hardened into disappointment and cold resolve.

He took a deep breath, straightened his spine, and finally nodded to everyone present.

"Proceed with the ceremony."

The pipe organ began to play a solemn hymn.

Dozens of Capos, who controlled the European underground black money empire, formed two lines. One by one, they stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and kissed the ring on Lorenzo's hand.

"*Bacio le mani, Don Corleone.*" (I kiss the hands, Don Corleone.)

The uniform sound of oaths echoed through the hall.

Sophia stood by his side, basking in the reverent gazes that were meant for me, her face unable to hide her triumph and greed.

Just as the last Elder bent down.

*Boom—!*

The heavy oak doors, which at this moment symbolized absolute authority, were violently shoved open from the outside.

The massive noise cut off the organ music. Everyone turned around in shock.

Backlit by the sun, I stood in the doorway.

But I wasn't wearing the festive, glorious gown befitting a Mama.

I was wearing high-couture black mourning weeds.

A black veil covered most of my face, a black skirt trailed on the ground, and a white camellia was pinned to my chest.

It was the traditional Sicilian funeral attire for a widow mourning her late husband.

I was mourning my dead love.

The hall instantly exploded into chaos, whispers buzzing like a swarm of bees.

The moment Lorenzo saw me, a look of surprise and joy burst into his eyes.

He instinctively pushed Sophia away and took a step forward. "Elena! You're alright? I knew you would come..."

His words choked in his throat as he saw the formation behind me.

Behind me, there were no family bodyguards.

Following me in were seven white-haired old men—the entire Commission, the supreme arbitration body of the Mafia.

And four stone-faced senior FBI agents in dark blue windbreakers.

Lorenzo's face turned ashen instantly.

Bringing the FBI to a Mafia succession ceremony was a flagrant provocation of Omertà.

"Elena! Have you lost your mind? What are the Feds doing here?!" Lorenzo roared in a hushed voice, his eyes filled with disbelief and hurt. "Do you want to destroy the family?"

I ignored his rage.

Walking in my four-inch heels, I stepped onto the red carpet, my black hem billowing behind me like ink.

I walked straight to the foot of the dais. Separated by three steps, I looked down coldly at the man I had loved for twelve years.

"Lorenzo, do you think going through the ritual makes you the master of the Corleone family?"

I removed the black veil, revealing the gauze still oozing blood on my forehead.

In that instant, Lorenzo's pupils constricted sharply. He reached out, wanting to touch my wound. "Elena... you..."

I coldly dodged his hand.

An FBI agent behind me stepped forward, took a sealed manila envelope from his briefcase, and spread it open in front of everyone.

"This is the 'Ultimate Trust Deed' established by the late Godfather."

I turned around to face the Mafia bosses below, my voice cold and steady.

"My father predicted this day would come. To prevent the family from falling into the hands of outsiders or traitors, he segregated the family's assets."

"All legal businesses—including casino licenses across Europe and America, shipping lines, real estate, and the exclusive franchises for the arms conglomerate—have been placed into an independent trust."

I pulled a fountain pen from my chest pocket and uncapped it.

"The only key to activate this trust is the handwritten signature of a daughter with pure Corleone blood—me, Elena Corleone."

Deathly silence fell over the hall.

Everyone understood what this meant.

Without the support of these laundered legal assets and arms transport lines, the so-called Godfather was nothing more than a glorified street thug managing a bunch of hooligans, without even the money to make payroll.

Sophia's face turned pale instantly. She shrieked, "That's impossible! Dad wouldn't leave Lorenzo out of the will! This must be a forgery!"

"Forgery?"

The Chief Elder of the Commission leaned on his cane and stepped forward, shooting a cold glare at Sophia.

"This deed was witnessed by the Commission and archived by the FBI as a third-party notary. Who dares to question it?"

Lorenzo froze in place. His hands were trembling; the Don's ring that had been glittering moments ago now felt like a branding iron burning his skin.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with shattered pain. "Elena, do we really have to go this far? I am your husband..."

"You *were*."

I cut him off coldly.

In front of everyone, I took the unsigned document and slammed it hard into his face.

The papers flew into the air, scattering like paper money for the dead.

"Since you chose that counterfeit Princess and the bastard in her belly..."

"Then you can keep your hollow title of Godfather and play house."

I looked around the room, my gaze sharp as a knife.

"I, Elena Corleone, hereby declare—"

"I do not recognize Lorenzo as the Don."