Reborn, I Let My Mafia Fiancée Ruin Her Face

Five minutes left in the countdown.

Red alarm lights flashed wildly in the Palermo underground narcotics factory, and a piercing siren tore through the toxic fumes. High-purity chemical acids gushed from ruptured pipes, corroding the concrete floor and emitting a nauseating hissing sound.

"Marco! Marco!"

Chiara Vitale's screams echoed through the ruins. She knelt before the collapsed load-bearing wall, her beautiful face contorted with terror. From beneath the wall came the faint groans of a man—her "true love," pinned down in the deepest part of the gas-filled pit.

"Cough cough... Chiara... Help me..."

Marco's voice grew weaker and weaker. Yellowish-green toxic fumes coiled around his body like venomous snakes, while the leaked strong acid slowly spread towards him.

Chiara tried to rush in, but was forced back by the choking fumes. She covered her mouth and nose, turned back in despair, and saw me rushing towards her.

"Mateo!" she cried, grasping at a straw. "Quick! Go in and save Marco! He's right there!"

I stopped in my tracks, my dark green eyes as calm as a deep pool. I carried a black briefcase—containing an important offshore account of the Romano family, which I had intended to steal amidst the chaos. My custom-made suit remained perfectly in place.

Memories of my past life flooded back like a tidal wave—

The same inferno, the same strong acid, the same cries for help. And I, like a loyal dog, rushed in, using my own flesh and blood to rescue her "true love." The price was half my face corroded and mangled, and from then on, I became a monster in her eyes.

"You're too ugly, Matteo. I can't stand it."

"Marco is the one I truly love."

"Can't you die with some dignity?"

That happened in my past life. Now that I'm alive again, I won't make the same mistake.

The memory abruptly ended. I looked down at the woman kneeling on the ground, a cold smile curving my lips.

“Mateo, what are you standing there for?” Chiara’s tone was commanding and self-assured. “You swore you would do anything for me! Go in and get Marco out right now, or I will never forgive you!”

Never forgive?

I chuckled softly. The laughter sounded particularly eerie amidst the smoke-filled ruins.

“Since it’s true love,” I said slowly, my voice as cold as the Sicilian wind, “go in and die for love.”

Chiara froze, as if she couldn't believe her ears. "What did you say?"

I didn't answer. I dusted off non-existent dust from my suit, picked up the briefcase, and strode towards the blast-proof security door.

“Matteo! Matteo Romano!” Chiara screamed hysterically. “You can’t do this! You love me! You promised to protect me for life!”

My steps faltered.

“I did say that,” I said without turning my head, “but that was in a past life.”

The heavy blast door slammed shut in front of Chiara. I knew there was a ventilation shaft in the back wall of the factory; even surrounded by toxic fumes and strong acids, they could climb out even if it meant risking their lives—that's how I escaped after being disfigured in my past life. This time, it was her turn to face it alone.

I walked out of the factory, the night wind blowing through my black hair. In the distance, a bulletproof Maybach was parked, its body gleaming coldly in the moonlight.

He opened the car door, placed the briefcase in the passenger seat, and then took out the satellite phone.

"Boss." A respectful voice came from the other end of the phone.

“The marriage between Romano and Vitale is off,” I said calmly, as if discussing the weather. “Immediately withdraw all private troops protecting the Vitale family. Also, contact the De la Cruz family and tell them—the plan can begin.”

"All of them? But boss, if that's the case..."

"all."

Three seconds later, a firm response came from the other end of the phone: "Yes, boss."

I hung up the phone, took a bottle of 1982 Barolo from the car's wine cabinet, elegantly poured myself a glass, and took a small sip.

boom--

A massive explosion ripped through the night sky, the shockwave causing the car to sway slightly. The orange flames dyed half of Palermo's sky crimson.

I calmly watched the hellish inferno through the bulletproof car window. There, Chiara and Marco were enduring everything I had endured in my past life.

This time, however, no one will rush in to be a scapegoat for "true love".

The red wine had a slightly astringent taste on my lips, but I felt it was sweeter than ever before.

Three hours later, at Palermo Municipal Hospital.

Chiara lay in the hospital bed, her face bandaged. The blast wave had knocked her over, but her injuries weren't too serious. What truly enraged her was Marco's horrific condition—third-degree burns, half his face corroded by strong acid, and his life hanging in the balance in the intensive care unit.

"That damn Matteo!" she gritted her teeth. "How dare he stand by and watch me die!"

A knock came at the door.

"Come in." Chiara thought it was a nurse, and her tone was still angry.

The person who pushed open the door was a middle-aged man in a black suit, holding a document in his hand.

“Miss Vitale, I am the lawyer for the Romano family.” The man placed the document on the bedside table. “This is the official notification of the termination of the armed protection agreement. From this day forward, the Romano family will no longer provide any form of armed protection to the Vitale family.”

Chiara sat bolt upright, the movement tearing at her wound. "What? This can't be! We're engaged! We..."

"The engagement is also null and void." The lawyer's voice was cold and professional. "Master Matteo's original words were: Now that Miss Vitale has found true love, she no longer needs Romano's protection."

The lawyer turned and left, and Chiara angrily threw the documents on the ground.

"You bastard! You despicable bastard!" she trembled with rage. "Matheo Romano, do you think you can blackmail me with such childish tricks?"

She picked up the phone from the bedside table and dialed my number angrily.

"Sorry, the number you dialed is out of service."

"It was intentional! Absolutely intentional!" Chiara slammed the phone back, her eyes burning with rage. "Is it because I asked you to save Marco? Marco and I don't have any real relationship, we're just friends! How can you be so petty!"

She bit her lip fiercely: "Once Marco recovers, I'll settle the score with you! You think I'll be scared by your tricks? Dream on!"

Chiara simply didn't believe I would actually break off the engagement. In her eyes, this man who had always revolved around her since childhood was just using this childish way to get her attention.

If she shows a little kindness, won't this loyal dog obediently come back and lick her shoes?