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At seventy, the godfather tried to force himself upon me Novel Cover

At seventy, the godfather tried to force himself upon me

Reborn after a horrific cycle of captivity, forced pregnancy, and the tragic death of her fiancé Sean, she is determined to rewrite her destiny. To escape the clutches of the tyrannical Don Costello, she deliberately disfigures her own face before he can claim her. While the obsessed godfather hunts for her true identity among the elite families, she flees to the front lines to seize control of Sean's powerful army. One year later, she returns to exact a brutal, merciless retribution upon her tormentor.
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Chapter 1

I am Sean's fiancée.

Seventy-year-old godfather Costello took a fancy to me at first sight.

He locked me in his penthouse apartment and made me conceive his child.

Six months later, Sean returned from the front lines.

The godfather made me dance for Sean, pregnant and clad only in diamond chains.

Sean drew his gun.

A bullet pierced his skull, blood splattering upon me.

I miscarried.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the dinner where I first met the Don.

This time, I disfigured my face into a pig's head first.

Unable to find me, the Don forced all the daughters of the families to attend a screening to find the woman with the beautiful profile.

I went to the front lines and subdued Sean's army.

A year later, I chopped off the Don's hands and feet, gouged out his eyes, and castrated him.

...

The family Don, Don Vito Costello, nearing seventy, took a fancy to me at first sight.

He asked his strategist beside him, "Who is that girl in the green dress?"

Falco's reply was clear: "Don, that is Gianna's youngest daughter, Chiara. She is already betrothed to Sean, your most loyal lieutenant."

Sean had just secured the Bronx turf war for the family and deserved his reward.

But the Don merely smiled, cigar smoke obscuring his deeply lined face.

"The Bronx is cold and harsh. Sean wouldn't look after such a delicate girl properly. I'll take care of her myself."

He locked me away in his penthouse above Central Park West, treating me like a trophy.

Six months later, Sean returned victorious, scarred and battered.

Costello was delighted, throwing him a triumphant feast. The evening's entertainment featured a "Diamond Dance" he'd recently learnt in Europe.

I was that dancer.

Carrying his child, I wore only sheer silk veils draped over my body, delicate diamond chains dangling from my ankles and wrists, clinking with each movement in a crisp, humiliating rhythm.

Sean's eyes blazed crimson as he drew his M9 pistol before the Godfather for the first time.

"Costello! She's my bloody fiancée!"

The Godfather's face darkened. He ordered Sean's execution, accusing him of coveting "family property".

That night, my lover fell, shot through the head, onto the expensive Persian carpet. Beneath me, the sheets were soaked with the blood of my miscarriage.

I hated.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the charity ball where I first met the Godfather.

The impeccably dressed Godfather was making his way through the crowd, his gaze fixed directly on me...

"Chiara, look! That's Cartier's latest 'Forest Star' necklace. You adore emeralds, don't you?"

My best friend Lily's voice reached my ears as vast swathes of crimson still lingered before my eyes.

Sean's celebratory banquet upon his return.

That old beast threatened my parents' lives, forcing me to dance with my former lover.

Barefoot, clad only in sheer fabric and diamonds.

The jazz began, and I danced numbly until—

Sean, who’d grown up with me, recognised me.

“Chiara?” Sean, who’d only wanted to escape this hollow affair, froze the moment he saw me.

Fury washed over his face.

He couldn't believe that fighting through hails of bullets for the family had led to this.

His fiancée was imprisoned in the Godfather's apartment.

Carrying a child not his own, dancing for a pack of men.

Shocked and enraged, he tore off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around me.

"Costello! Chiara is my woman! How dare you treat her this way?"

"Impertinent!" The godfather's voice was not loud, yet the entire hall fell silent. "This city is mine. Everything within it, naturally, is mine too."

He looked at Sean with contempt: "A mere lieutenant, and you presume to lecture me? Are you making advances towards my 'personal property'?"

Sean's eyes blazed crimson, his entire body trembling with rage.

Costello's enforcers and the men Sean had brought with him immediately drew their guns, facing off.

Alas, Sean was too loyal.

His men were too obedient.

They had drunk the celebratory whisky the Godfather had bestowed upon them, laced with a potent additive. Now, their bodies were limp and utterly powerless. The fingers that had pulled triggers to slaughter enemies were snapped one by one. The teeth that had crushed enemy bones were knocked out, one by one.

The hall was awash with blood, bone fragments, and severed fingers flying everywhere.

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