Reborn: The Mafia Lord's Substitute

Vivienne's POV

"Sign it."

A stack of papers slammed into my face before I could dodge. Warm blood trickled down from my eyebrow.

Divorce papers.

The bold letters swam in my vision. I wiped away the blood and stared at the three people in front of me—my parents and my sister Celeste, fresh off her flight from abroad.

Their faces were written with impatience.

"Vivienne, did you hear me? Your sister's back. Time for you to go." My mother Helena's voice was ice-cold.

My fingers clenched around the papers as a flood of images crashed through my mind—

The mountaintop estate on Christmas. Flames everywhere.

The dressing room door locked from the outside. Smoke pouring in. Me pounding, screaming for help.

Dante running to Celeste. My parents right behind him. No one looking back.

Me and my three-month-old baby, burning alive.

The pain hit me like a tidal wave. That suffocating feeling still seemed to cling to my lungs. I forced myself to breathe, to stay calm.

I'd been reborn. Back to this godforsaken starting point.

"Give me a pen."

My voice came out eerily calm.

The entire foyer went silent.

Celeste recovered first, blinking at me. "Wait—you're agreeing already? I was so worried you'd be upset... but I guess you've always been the sensible one, haven't you?"

Helena sneered. "Vivienne, don't try any of your tricks like you did five years ago."

Marcus pulled a pen from his pocket and tossed it at my feet. "Hmph. If it weren't for her scheming back then, Dante never would've married her in the first place."

The words hit like a slap. I bit back any response and bent down to pick up the pen. The old me would've cried and defended herself. Not anymore.

"Sis." Celeste approached me, her voice honey-sweet. "You're not mad at me, are you? I know you like Dante too, but love can't be forced. After all, Dante has always—"

"I'm not mad." I cut her off. "Actually, I hope you and Dante have everything you've always wanted together."

Her smile froze. She clearly hadn't expected me to cave so easily.

Then I signed my name without hesitation.

This life, I wouldn't make the same mistakes.

"You..." Celeste's eyes went wide. "You just... SIGNED it?"

"What else?" I handed her the papers. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

She snatched the agreement and scrutinized my signature like she was hunting for a trap.

"Good." Helena nodded with satisfaction. "At least you're not stupid. Remember—three days to get Dante's signature. Then get out of this house and out of our lives. Forever."

"Understood."

I turned and headed upstairs, my steps light as air.

Behind me, their excited chatter started up—tomorrow night Dante was taking Celeste to a charity gala. He'd had a dress and jewelry custom-made for her. Only the best of everything.

I used to dream he'd treat me like that someday. What a joke.

Back in my room, I leaned against the door and finally let myself breathe.

My phone rang. Dr. Smith, my private physician.

"Mrs. Moretti, your test results are in." His voice was barely containing excitement. "Congratulations—you're three months pregnant! This is incredible news for the family. I'll notify Mr. Moretti right away—"

"Don't."

Silence on the other end.

"But ma'am, this child is an honor for the family—"

"I SAID don't." I took a deep breath. "Dr. Smith, I'm planning a surprise for him. Not a word to anyone until I say so. Understand?"

"...I understand."

I hung up and sank onto the bed, my trembling hand moving to my stomach.

In my first life, this baby and I died together in the flames. This time, I was taking him far away from this hellhole.

I started packing. Half my wardrobe was already gone—Celeste had taken all the good stuff.

Only a few things remained on the nightstand.

A necklace with a broken clasp. Dante had tossed it at me last Christmas. I'd been so thrilled I couldn't sleep. Later I found out Celeste had rejected it for being too old-fashioned.

An outdated coat. Father said it was my birthday gift. I wore it for a whole year. Until I saw Celeste's Instagram from last year—her wearing this exact coat, casually draped over a chair.

A faded picture frame. The family photo inside had me cropped out halfway, just half my face squeezed into the corner...

My hands shook as I threw each item into a trash bag. Every piece hurt. Not because I couldn't let go—but because of how PATHETIC I'd been.

These things I'd treasured now just made me sick.

While I was packing, Celeste's laugh rang out from downstairs.

"Dante! You're here!"

My hands stilled. He was here.

I grabbed the trash bag and the divorce papers and headed down.

In the living room, Dante stood in a tailored black suit, his tall frame casting shadows. He was looking down at Celeste, his gaze impossibly soft.

I'd never seen him look at me that way.

Celeste wore a gorgeous silver gown, spinning for him. "Dante, what do you think? Is it perfect for tomorrow's gala?"

"Beautiful." His voice was low and smooth. "It suits you perfectly."

"Really?" Celeste moved closer, beaming. "I knew you had the best taste!"

I stood at the foot of the stairs. Nobody noticed me standing there.

Until Celeste spotted me, a gleam in her eyes. "Sis, what are you doing? Are you... throwing things away?"

She deliberately raised her voice.

Dante looked up, his brow furrowing immediately. "What are you doing?"

I walked down calmly and set the trash bag aside. "Getting rid of some things I don't need anymore."

"Don't need?" Celeste pulled the broken necklace from the bag, gasping dramatically. "Oh my God, sis! This is from Dante! How could you just throw it away?"

Dante's face darkened instantly. "So this is how you treat my gifts, Vivienne?"

"I didn't—"

"Enough." He cut me off, disgust dripping from his voice. "Cut the act. The second Celeste walks back in, you start playing these pathetic games for attention."

I froze.

"Dante, don't be so hard on her..." Celeste tugged at his sleeve, her voice soft. "Maybe she's just upset. After all, she's still your wife..."

His expression grew even darker as he turned to me. "If that's all, you can go. Don't interrupt us."

I took a deep breath and pulled out the papers. "There's a document that needs your signature."

"What document?" His tone was impatient.

"Hospital bill."

He frowned and took it, about to look closer when Celeste suddenly squealed, "Dante, look at the back of this dress! The designer added lace!"

His attention snapped to her immediately. He didn't even glance at the document before scrawling his signature on the last page.

"Here." He tossed the papers back at me.

I tucked the signed divorce agreement into my bag and turned to leave.

Behind me, Celeste deliberately raised her voice, sounding pitiful. "Dante, don't be so mean to her. Maybe she's just in a bad mood..."

"Upset?" Dante's laugh was cold. "Celeste, you're too kind for your own good. Some people get exactly what they deserve."

My heart constricted. My steps halted.

Deserve. He said I deserved this.

A memory flashed through my mind—five years ago, that night—

His hand had gripped my jaw, eyes blazing with cold fury. "You want to marry me? Fine. You got your wish. But Vivienne, all you're getting is a ring and a last name. The woman I love—the woman I'll ALWAYS love—will never be you."

Maybe he was right. Maybe I did deserve this—for being stupid enough to fall in love with a man who could never love me back.