Hated by All, Loved by None The Mafia Queen’s Rise

“Not this nonsense again! Stop throwing around baseless accusations!” Adrian snapped, frustration finally slipping through the polished tone expected of a Mafia Don.

“Then explain it,” I shot back. “You and Theodore both drove here tonight, yet you insist on personally escorting Veronica home. Why is it always you? Why never any of your men? Why never anyone else?”

A flicker of annoyance crossed his face before he forced himself to breathe slowly—Don composure returning.

“Bella… are we really doing this again? Jealousy over Veronica?” His voice sharpened, the air between us tightening. “How many times must I repeat myself? She’s practically family—like a younger sister in the syndicate.”

He squared his shoulders, slipping back into that calm, calculated tone he used in Family negotiations.

“She’s in this city without allies, separated from her husband, raising her little boy alone. Do you expect me, her Don, to ignore her struggles? She’s been by my side since we were children in the organization. I won’t abandon her during a crisis.”

“If she’s so helpless,” I countered, taking a step away from his grasp, “why is she pushing so desperately for a merger between her Family and ours? Doesn’t she care what kind of chaos that alliance could cause—for you, for our territories, for your position as Don? Or does she simply not care what you risk?”

Adrian’s brows drew together as he tried to rein me in.

“Bella, don’t involve yourself in matters of the Families. Stay home. Focus on the things you’re actually good at.” His voice sharpened. “Our territory will double once our Families unite. That is a massive advantage.”

He moved closer, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, patronizing and dismissive.

“Stop letting paranoia eat at you. You’re going to be a mother soon—jealousy will only make things harder. How will you raise our child like this?”

I almost laughed at the cruelty of it. He talked about raising a child… not knowing that our baby was already gone. Lost because of his recklessness.

“But it was you,” I whispered, “who told your men that because I grew up without parents, I wouldn’t know how to raise a child. And that Veronica should guide me.”

A shock ran through him—like someone had doused him in ice.

“You… you were listening?” he stammered. “Bella, I—I was drunk that night. I didn’t mean any of it. You’re exaggerating.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but his phone suddenly rang. Victoria’s name—Veronica’s real name, the one only the syndicate used—flashed across the screen.

He froze.

I tipped my chin. “Go ahead. Answer.”

He picked up.

Immediately, a child’s bright voice chirped through the speaker.

“Daddy! I miss you! When are you coming to play with me and Mommy? When are you coming home?”

Adrian’s face drained of color. He looked at me, horrified, praying I hadn’t heard—but I had heard everything.

He cleared his throat sharply. “Mark… call me uncle, okay?”

“Why? Mommy said I can call you Dad.”

Adrian choked, scrambling for control.

“Your mother is here with me. We’ll be home soon.”

He hung up fast, guilt written all over him.

“Bella—” he began, reaching for me.

I met his eyes, every bone in my body tired. “Do whatever you want, Adrian. I’m done talking.”

I turned to walk away, but he immediately pulled me into his arms from behind, tightening his grip as if force alone could keep me from slipping through his fingers.

“You need to adapt, Bella,” he murmured near my ear. “I can’t indulge your every emotion anymore. But from today onward, I’ll be better. For you. For our Family. For our child.”

He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek—like a bandage on a fatal wound.

Before I reached home, my phone buzzed.

From Theodore:

Sis-in-law, Veronica’s not doing well, so the Don won’t be coming home tomorrow.

My stomach twisted. Adrian had been planning a grand banquet to welcome Veronica’s Family for weeks—yet now, because I openly objected to the merger, he clearly didn’t want me anywhere near it.

Hands shaking, I opened social media.

Veronica had posted:

“Shopping for tomorrow’s banquet. Picking matching suits for my two men.”

Attached was a photo.

Adrian holding her son.

Her leaning into him like they were a family.

Pain tore through me.

Before I could even breathe, the driver shouted:

“Madam—duck your head!”

I looked up just as a massive truck swerved toward us. The driver jerked the wheel, but it was too late—

Metal shrieked.

The world spun.

The car flipped.

My body smashed against the ceiling. Everything blurred.

“Mom… Dad… big brother…”

Memories splintered through me like glass.

Warm liquid dripped down my arm.

Blood. Mine.

With trembling fingers, I dialed my father—one last attempt, one last goodbye.

He answered immediately.

“Bella? What’s this? You only remember your father now—”

“D… Dad…” My breath hitched. “I—I’m sorry… sorry for disappointing you… Tell Mom I… I love you…”

The phone slipped from my hand.

My mind drifted into a cold, quiet darkness.

Not once did I think of the people who destroyed me.

Not once did I think of Adrian.

Only my family.

Through the fading noise, I heard my father’s voice—shaken, terrified, breaking open.

“Bella! Bella! Damn it—where are you, my daughter?!”

And then the world went black.