Reborn from Betrayal: The Mafia Heiress’s Revenge

Caterina Bellini

Air returned to my lungs like sharp blades cutting me from the inside out, tearing at me in cruel silence. A muffled groan escaped my lips when I realized I could finally breathe again, as if life itself had been forced back into me.

Relief spread slowly through my body as I recognized the familiar scent of lilies scattered around the room, clinging to the curtains and sheets. I sat up carefully, drinking in the familiar decor before my eyes, every detail both comforting and unsettling.

How was this possible?

I walked to the mirror on the wardrobe and stared at the intact and healthy reflection staring back at me. My body was warm, my cheeks flushed, my skin alive as if nothing had ever happened.

I closed my eyes, memories striking me like lightning, violent flashes of a terrible nightmare.

I could still taste the chlorine, feel the burning in my lungs when the air disappeared. I still felt the hands gripping me, forcing me under the water until everything went dark.

And above all, I remembered the blurred image of the redheaded woman with the cynical smile: the very same hands that dragged me into unconsciousness.

I was dead. 

I was certain I had died when, as I drowned, I saw my life unravel before my eyes. When I could no longer fight, I surrendered completely to the endless void.

I saw my own lifeless body, cold and empty.

But now, wrapped in some great trick of fate, I was in my room again. Dry, intact. No marks, no bruises, no pain.

When I thought of running to call my husband, Adrian, and tell him about the miracle that had happened, I heard his voice drifting from downstairs. But he was not alone.

I changed clothes and went looking for him. The soldiers greeted me as usual.

"Good morning, Donna Caterina."

Always sharp, always attentive to every move, ready to shoot at the slightest sign of danger. Except, of course, for what happens right under their noses, hidden by the Don’s command.

I looked around the house. The Monti crest in place of the old Bellini painting. He was replacing what was mine little by little, and I had hardly noticed until now.

When I entered the room, I saw Adrian’s back.

But she was in his arms.

I did not need to get closer to understand the scene.

The small, seemingly harmless figure of the redheaded woman, her delicate hands resting so naturally on his arms.

The same hands that drowned me.

Suddenly, the whole scene replayed before me like a cruel déjà vu. I froze, even recognizing the same perfume from that day when our entire life took a darker turn.

The day my husband brought a demon into the Monti-Bellini fortress.

But I think I have the upper hand now.

"Am I interrupting?"

My voice sounded calm, calculated, catching them off guard.

They turned at the same time. He, foolish, with an almost boyish smile on his face. She, with the same cynicism and false innocence in every gesture.

"I’m glad you’re here, Cat. I want to introduce you to someone very special." I smiled discreetly when I heard him say that.

"This is Nathalia Ferrari, daughter of a great friend of mine and our ally."

Ferrari was a familiar surname. One of the families allied to the Monti: my husband’s bloodline.

She waved timidly in my direction. That sweet look that could make anyone believe her carefully staged act.

Before I could speak, he continued:

"Victor, Nathalia’s father, was a hero to me. You know he once saved my life. Now… she has nowhere to stay. So I thought we could take her in for a while."

Nathalia kept her pitiful expression as he told her story. And daring, though never stepping out of character, she whispered:

"It would be too much to ask, Adrian."

He immediately shook his head. His eyes lingered on the sweet and innocent Nathalia with the same glow that had once been directed at me.

Seeing Adrian still so blind brought every memory back at once.

I had loved him since we were just children, discovering life together. He was reliable and kind. The perfect man for me. My best friend turned into my partner.

And families like mine, tied to the underworld of the mafia, know better than anyone how to value loyalty.

That is why, when my father fell ill, he made Adrian promise to take care of me.

So the Monti and Bellini families united into one empire. I became his wife, giving him authority over what should have been mine by birthright.

Our marriage had love. I remembered the passion, the sleepless nights, laughing until we could no longer breathe, still under the sheets that held the intimate memories of our devotion.

But every promise of loyalty carries a price in my world. And sometimes, that price is blood.

With time, the nights grew lonelier. The weight of responsibility was visible in Adrian’s tired eyes, as well as the disappointment each month when my cycle announced that I had failed to give him what he wanted most: a child.

Then, after Nathalia’s arrival, I barely saw him. He said he worked late and gave vague excuses. He was cold, distant.

Until she showed up pregnant.

I should have known, but I was as naive as she pretended to be.

Those memories pulled me back into the present like a punch to the chest.

I watched them as they waited for my answer, as if the seconds I spent in silence, drowning in my thoughts, had lasted hours.

"So, Cat? What do you think?" Adrian asked, anxious.

I knew that after everything that had happened, there was only one possible answer.

"No," I declared loud and clear.

I had been betrayed and murdered. But somehow, fate had given me a second chance.

And I had returned exactly to the day my destiny was sealed.

I would not waste this gift by making the same mistakes again.