The Capo's Counterfeit Queen

Alessandro's breathing was heavy, his jaw tight with fury. He looked like a cornered beast, ready to tear someone to shreds.

Seraphina was crumpled on the floor, unconscious, with a bleeding gash on her forehead.

I knew it. I knew she'd never succeed.

For now, this was just a lesson. But once Alessandro sobered up, I doubted she would live to see another sunrise.

I let out a slow breath and was about to slip away in the chaos when an iron grip clamped down on my wrist.

The next second, Alessandro dragged me into the room next door.

I was still wearing the Venetian mask. My breath caught in my throat, my gaze locking with his as a cold wave of terror washed over me.

The room's dim lighting cast long shadows on the walls. He pinned me against the wall, his voice low and hoarse, burning with the drug's heat.

"Your scent... your silhouette... it's so familiar. Who are you?"

I froze. I couldn't possibly answer him. We had spent so much time together—if I spoke a single word, he would know it was me.

I couldn't let anything happen between us. If I did, my fate would be sealed, and I’d be trapped in this world just as surely as Seraphina.

I struggled to break free, but even drugged, Alessandro's strength was like iron, pinning me in place. I didn't stand a chance.

I opened my mouth to scream for help, but he suddenly lowered his head, his hot breath grazing my ear as he murmured, "Your eyes... they burn right through me..."

My whole body went rigid. For a second, I thought he recognized me.

Then he ripped off my mask and kissed me with an almost punitive force.

Panic seized me. I quickly plunged the room into darkness, but after that, there was no escape.

The next few hours passed in a chaotic blur of darkness and pain. It wasn't until late into the night that Alessandro's grip finally loosened, his strength gradually fading.

Every muscle in my body ached, but I forced myself to rise and get dressed.

I wasn't Seraphina, lost in some fairytale about becoming a mafia queen. I knew a man like that wouldn't fall for a naive girl; he'd devour her. I wouldn't let myself get trapped in a mess I couldn't escape.

So while he slept, I slipped out. I didn't hesitate, and I didn't look back. I would just pretend none of it ever happened.

But just as I was leaving the room, I saw a man I recognized—Finn Costello, a known figure from another family—emerging disheveled from the room next door.

He let out a low whistle when he saw me.

I glanced past him into the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and Seraphina lay on the bed, her dress torn, completely passed out.

Remembering how she had murdered me in my past life, I just quietly closed the door and walked away.