Why Did The Capo Who Crossed Me Betray The Protagonist?

Leo Lovera was a capo, and he always thought I was just a housewife who couldn’t survive without him. He brought a woman, Sophia Costa, back to the estate. He dressed her in my silk robes, doused her in my perfume, and then pretended like he was being thoughtful by offering me a bowl of stew with only a few slices of meat. Leo scowled at me and snapped, “Sophia’s kind-hearted. Don’t be ungrateful. If it weren’t for the fact that you have no family, I’d have thrown you into the sea to feed the fish a long time ago.” No family? I laughed. He had no idea I was the daughter of the Orlen Family's Don, a Mafia princess in every sense. To honor a five-year agreement with the Don, I had been living under a hidden identity, keeping all my sharp edges carefully tucked away. He had said that for five years, I had to live as a normal woman and protect the Family’s territory. I couldn't ever truly inherit his empire without doing so. Five years. And today was the last day. Leo had just shattered that agreement with his own hands. In doing so, he freed me. I pulled out the satellite phone and dialed a number. Ten minutes later, the Family’s legal counsel arrived, flanked by men in black suits. They knocked on the door, and Bruce Sinclair bowed to me the moment he stepped inside. “Principessa Anna, the Don has entrusted the estate to you.”

I was engaged to Silas, Don of the Vance Famiglia, yet in the annual family portrait, I was shoved into the back corner. Standing right beside him was Camilla, his most trusted Capo. He sighed impatiently. "We have plenty of photos together, Scarlett. Missing one won't kill you. You're the future Donna. Stop being so petty." I swallowed my pride and gave up my spot. But my compromise bought me nothing. The necklace meant for me ended up around Camilla's neck. His plus-one to galas became Camilla. His excuse was always the same: "She's a vital part of the syndicate. You shouldn't compete with her." So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I stopped being petty. I shredded the wedding planner I had poured my heart into, trashed our photos, and left New York for good. And suddenly, the cold, calculating Don was tearing the city apart looking for me.

For five years, I fought illegal matches in an underground cage ring to scrape together enough money to repay the massive high-interest loan I had taken out to treat my son Luca’s illness. Dragging my still-dislocated left arm, I rushed to tell the father and son the good news. Yet when I reached the door, I saw the capo who managed the cage arena bowing low before my husband, Vicenzo. “Underboss, Eva said she’ll repay the loan in a few days. Do we still keep pretending to pressure her?” Vicenzo idly spun the Browning in his hand, the diamonds set into it worth enough to buy the entire cage arena. “No need. She’s suffered enough these past few years. Even when she had two ribs broken a few months ago, she didn’t dare tell us.” Elena, his sworn sister, seated beside him, let out a soft laugh. “Vicenzo, what if she’s a spy sent by a rival family? After all, you are the underboss of the Carlini family. “Besides, Luca has been pampered since he was little. How could he live with someone who reeks of blood?” My six-year-old son wrapped his arms tightly around her neck and echoed her words. “I don’t want a woman covered in scars as my mommy. Just looking at her wounds makes me feel sick.” Then he turned to her and pouted. “Aunt Elena, I wish you were my mommy.” Vicenzo hesitated only a moment before looking at them indulgently. “Then we’ll test her for another six months. If she remains this obedient, I’ll officially let her become part of the Carlini family.” I watched the farce with cold eyes, because to avoid frightening Vicenzo, the ordinary librarian I believed him to be, I had hidden my identity as the principessa of the Moretti family. Also, to keep from being found by my family and my fiancé, the Don of the Carlini family, I had not touched a single cent of family money. Instead, I chose to earn it with my fists in places piled with the dead. So it seemed my endurance and sacrifice were nothing more than a taming game in their eyes.

The day before my wedding, I was insulted by two men. In my defense, I ended up killing one and injuring the other. My fiancé at the time, Alexander, who was supposed to protect me, abandoned me during the trial. I was sentenced to two years in jail. When I was finally released two years later, I discovered that my ex-fiancé had already married my best friend, Isabella. And Isabella? She didn’t just ‘steal’ my fiancé—she took the doctor position that was supposed to be mine too. I had nowhere to go, and in my most desperate moment, Eric Graves appeared at my door. As the most powerful mafia leader in NYC, Eric used his influence to ensure no one would speak ill of my past. He also proposed to me, confessing that he'd always had feelings for me and wanted to marry me. I believed he was my knight in shining armor, my true love. The first four years of our marriage were perfect—at least, that’s what I thought, until the day I overheard a conversation between my husband, Eric, and his right-hand man, Adam. “Boss, you were so clever to let those scums harass Evelyn. If it weren't for that, Miss Isabella would never have had a chance with Alexander.” Eric’s teasing voice followed, “I just wanted to scare her for a bit. Never thought she’d kill one of them and end up behind bars.” Adam sounded confused. “But Miss Isabella is already married now. Why would you still keep that whore around after she got out of prison?” “Because,” Eric paused, “I have to make sure she doesn’t run back to Alexander or disturb Isabella.” The laughter that followed shattered my heart. All those memories of Eric saving me from humiliation? They were all a lie. He was the one who made my life fall apart, just to make sure Isabella could live happily ever after. Wiping away the lingering tears, I dialed Eric’s biggest rival in NYC, Caleb Nightshade. "Do you still want to wipe Eric out of New York?”

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

I'm a killer who accidentally sleeps with a mafia boss twice. The first time, I walk away without saying anything, leaving behind nothing but a note and a bank card. "Fantastic night. Thanks." The second time, he lands himself at the top of the killer hit list and has a sky-high bounty placed on him. Later, he traps me in his room as I fade in and out of consciousness, drowning in his presence. He holds my hand and aims my gun at himself with a chuckle. "You're shaking so badly. Can you even keep your gun steady?"