To Depose a Nameless King

I was reborn a year before the conflict with the Russian Bratva escalated.

The first thing I did was schedule an appointment at a private clinic and terminate the pregnancy with my husband Kurt Rinaldi's child.

In my past life, his mistress, Ava, had an affair with our mortal enemy. To cover up her betrayal, Kurt swapped my pure-blooded Valerius heir with the blond-haired, blue-eyed child she’d carried for him.

They branded me a traitor. With a red-hot blade, Kurt personally flayed the tattoo symbolizing loyalty to the Valerius family from my skin, leaving me to bleed to death. And the child I had raised as my own, incited by Ava, celebrated his birth mother's victory at my graveside.

When I awoke again, I was three months pregnant.

Without hesitation, I went to the most discreet private clinic in the city. As my new life began, I also acquired an expensive, hyper-realistic silicone prosthetic belly, designed to perfectly mimic every sign of pregnancy.

Kurt needed a child to be a scapegoat for Ava's bastard.

Fine. I'll play along.

This time, I have no weaknesses.

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1

I drove toward the main family estate, the acrid smell of the clinic’s antiseptic still clinging to me. My hand rested on the silicone prosthesis over my flat stomach, where my secret lay hidden.

The cramping from the procedure was a dull ache, not even a fraction of the agony from my past life, when Kurt had flayed the family tattoo from my back, inch by inch, with a red-hot blade.

Hatred had turned my heart to ice. Nothing could touch me now.

The heir that should have been his was gone. Gone forever.

In the distance, Kurt's custom armored Bentley was parked in front of the main house. He had just gotten out of the car and was gently guiding a woman from the passenger side.

Ava.

She was wearing an expensive pink maternity dress, her arms wrapped intimately around Kurt's neck like a fragile little bird seeking shelter.

I parked my car, slamming the door with a crack that shattered the quiet.

They turned toward me. A flash of triumph lit Ava’s eyes before being quickly masked by a wide, innocent gaze.

"Maggie! You're back!" Her sickly sweet voice made my stomach roil.

I strode toward them, my hand placed protectively on my prosthetic belly. The clinic's doctor was a master of his craft, leaving me indistinguishable from a truly pregnant woman.

"Good afternoon, Kurt. Ava," I said flatly.

Ava shrank deeper into Kurt's embrace, but her eyes, fixed on me, were as cold as a reptile's.

"Maggie, look!" she chirped, showing off a new diamond bracelet on her wrist. "Kurt gave it to me! It even has my initials on it! He said it was a reward for carrying his precious heir!"

I glanced at the bracelet, a nauseating display.

"He said it will keep me and the baby safe," Ava cooed smugly. "Kurt says our child deserves the best protection in the world."

The best protection.

Shards of memory pierced me. Shortly after I discovered I was carrying the heir, Ava had returned, weeping about the hardships she’d faced since leaving home. Kurt told me he pitied her, that she was a childhood friend he was obligated to care for. I believed him. I even shared the rare prenatal supplements I had specially flown in from Europe with her. I never suspected it was a trap.

They had been plotting against me from the very beginning.

"Kurt is such a wonderful leader," Ava murmured. "Maggie is the luckiest woman in the world to be his wife."

A wonderful leader. The irony was so thick I could have choked on it.

In my last life, Ava and I gave birth at almost the same time. I had "delivered" a blond-haired, blue-eyed monster. All the Capos declared I had betrayed the family, sleeping with a man from the Russian Bratva. I remember screaming my innocence until my throat was raw, begging Kurt—my husband—to look me in the eyes and see the truth. He refused to meet my gaze. He just held up a video, its cold light projecting my supposed betrayal for all the family elders to see.

"How could you?" he had asked, his voice filled with a disgust that shattered my heart.

The footage showed me meeting secretly with a high-ranking Bratva member. With war on the horizon, the family convicted me and threw me into a sunless cellar. They sedated me daily, grinding down my will until I couldn't even lift a finger. I even began to wonder if I truly had been defiled.

Three years later, Kurt had fully consolidated his power as the husband of the Valerius Principessa. He came to the torture chamber and announced he was willing to "forgive" his errant wife. He brought me back to the main house, where I accidentally overheard a conversation between Ava and the boy I had raised as my son.

The half-breed child was hers. And the boy was sneering about how weak I’d become, openly wishing for my death.

When I tried to expose their scheme and seek help from the Consigliere, I was caught. Kurt threw me back into that torture chamber, and this time, he personally ordered my execution with a red-hot blade.

The searing pain pulled me back to the present. I stared at the lovers before me.

"Kurt," my voice was ice. "As the nominal head of this family, are you playing chauffeur now instead of handling business at the docks?"

Kurt's brow furrowed. "Maggie, watch your tone."

"I'm just concerned about the family's future," I shrugged. "The conflict is about to escalate. Everyone should be at their posts."

Ava flinched in his arms, a mask of feigned fear on her face. "Maggie, I haven't been feeling well. Kurt was just worried about the child…"

"Of course," I nodded. "The child is what's most important."

Kurt gave me a long, hard look, a clear warning in his eyes. "And another thing, Maggie," he admonished, "stop using those skincare products with unknown ingredients. They could affect the heir's health."

The heir's health. He wasn't worried about me; he was worried I would ruin his plan to swap the babies.

I nodded, feigning obedience.

But as soon as I was back in my room, I poured the entire bottle of "family's special prenatal supplements" he had given me down the toilet.

There was no child in my womb.

This time, I couldn't wait to watch them scramble to find a scapegoat for Ava's little mongrel.