My name is Elvira Rossi, daughter of Don Rossi, head of the Itavelle mafia family.

Three months ago, my father was killed. Our operations were stripped bare, nothing left.

The accounts were draining fast, and the family still had mouths to feed.

Then a DNA report surfaced out of nowhere.

According to it, I was the LaRosa family's long‑lost true heiress, missing for eighteen years.

Money, at last, had found its way to me.

For the sake of my people, I was willing to set aside my pride and play the part of a sheltered heiress.

The car sent to escort me back to the estate broke down halfway up the mountain?

I steadied it with one hand and carried it the rest of the way to the hilltop manor.

The fake heiress dissolved into tears, accusing me of pushing her?

I answered by striking the century-old tree in the courtyard, splitting it clean through.

She went silent immediately.

My fiancé sent bodyguards to "teach me self‑defense"?

My two friends politely introduced them to the concept of being permanently embedded in a wall.

As my so‑called "family" shook in fear, my knuckles cracked softly.

After all, before inheriting the mafia, I inherited my father's favorite rule:

"If violence can solve it, don't waste words."

My fist connected with a solid thud against my opponent's jaw, sending him crashing to the mat. The referee started the countdown, his voice echoing in the charged silence.

"Ten, nine, eight..."

I peeled off my gloves, feeling the sweat slide down my skin.

"Three, two, one–"

Victory was mine as the referee hoisted my arm high. The crowd went wild, chanting my name.

"Rossi! Rossi!"

Cash rained down into the cage, fluttering around me like a blizzard of green.

I stepped out of the ring and into the quiet of the locker room, the door muffling the roar of the fans. I splashed cold water on my face, staring at the woman in the mirror. Below my collarbone was the black ink of a rose wrapped in thorns, the Rossi family crest.

The door swung open, and Marco stepped in, his face serious. "The last payment's in," he said, nodding at the screen.

I glanced at the digits, then back at him.

"The warehouse rent's due next Friday," Marco added, his voice tense. "Old Nick's not messing around. He says if we don't pay, he'll be sending bullets instead of a reminder."

I pushed the phone away. "Understood."

Marco swallowed, clearly holding back more bad news.

"Out with it," I urged, toweling off.

He cleared his throat. "After Don Rossi was gone, the Cosa family took over the docks, and the casino operation was shut down last week after a raid."

I clenched my fist, feeling the metal handle of the wardrobe bend beneath my grip.

I was always the strong one, freakishly so. That was why my dad, the notorious Don Rossi of Newvale City's underworld, had picked me from the litter.

The door buzzed again, and in walked a slick guy in a suit, hair combed to perfection.

"Miss Elvira Rossi?" he inquired.

"That's me," I replied, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and caution.

"I'm David Conti, attorney for the LaRosa family," he announced, pulling out a folder from his briefcase. "There's something you need to see."

The LaRosa family, high rollers of Newvale City.

He slid the folder across to me. "Please, have a look."

I flipped it open to find a DNA report staring back at me.

"What's this all about?"

"You are the long-lost daughter of Edward and Catherine LaRosa.

"Eighteen years back, Mrs. LaRosa had a brush with death while giving birth on a trip to Itavelle. The baby–well, that was you–vanished without a trace. Three months ago, we matched your DNA, and here we are."

I snapped the folder shut. "And your point is?"

David blinked, caught off guard. "It's time you reclaimed your place. The LaRosas have been searching for you."

I could not help but chuckle. "Reclaimed?" I echoed. "Look, I'm doing just fine. I'm not about to ditch my crew."

"You might not realize, but the LaRosa empire is worth a cool thirty billion."

The room fell silent.

Marco and I locked eyes, both of us catching a glint of something new.

David went on, "Mr. LaRosa says he'll cover all your expenses if you come home."

"Everything?"

"Every last cent." His smile was confident, his nod firm. "You'll be the LaRosa heiress, living large in the manor with drivers, maids, and jewels galore. And let's not forget, you'll have a shot at the inheritance."

"The sole heir?" I asked.

"Well, there are your sisters. Alice, the adopted one, is quite the favorite. And Victoria–she's young, a bit naive."

In other words, Alice was a contender.

I held off on answering, my mind drifting to darker times: the night my father died, his blood painting the concrete, and my brothers' eyes on me.

Marco knelt first.

"Boss."

The rest followed.

That was when I took the reins of the Rossi family.

It seemed I had more to think about for my people.

"Miss Elvira?"

"I'll return," I declared.

David let out a relieved exhale, waiting for my terms.

"However, I'm not going alone."

His eyes popped. "What?"

"My crew. They're coming into the LaRosa estate with me."

David's brow creased. "Mr. LaRosa won't agree to that..."

"Then we're done here." I cut him off, standing my ground. "I can make my own money, even if it takes longer."

David mopped his brow, the stress evident. "I need to check in."

He stepped out to make a call.

Marco sidled up, voice hushed. "Boss, are you sure about this?"

"I haven't fully stepped into my father's shoes yet. I need the cash."

My eyes tracked David at the door. "It's the quickest way."

The door swung open, and David re-entered. "Mr. LaRosa is on board, but you can only bring two."

"Alright." I rose to my feet. "When do we roll out?"

"Right now. The car's outside."

We left the underground fight club behind, a sleek black Bentley waiting curbside.

The Bentley glided along the winding mountain road.

A sudden lurch, a screech of metal, and the car lurched to the left, the driver wrestling with the wheel.

We came to a halt, and David jumped out to inspect. I followed suit.

Three shiny spikes jutted from the front left tire, glinting in the sunset.

"What..." The driver went pale. "Nails? Up here?"

I crouched, examining a spike, its point gleaming and new.

"Someone's idea of a game." I kept my voice steady.

Child's play, nothing more.

David was already on his phone. "I'll get a tow. The manor will send another car."

"How long?"

Waiting was not my thing, my frown deepening.

"Forty minutes for the tow, and then for the car..." David did the math, regret in his tone, "You won't make it to the manor before seven."

Dinner at the LaRosas's was at six-thirty.

Inconvenient, to say the least. I strode up to the car's nose.

"Miss Elvira?" David's voice was laced with confusion.

I did not answer. Instead, I bent, gripped the bumper, and stood up, lifting the car's front end with ease.

"Get in," I said, finding my balance.

David's face was a picture of question marks, and the driver's eyes were saucers of shock.

They scrambled into the car, and I heard the seat belts snap into place.

With a deep breath, I shouldered the car, feeling its weight settle across my back.

The wind whipped around me, and the trees blurred into a backward stream.

Up ahead, two mountain bikers stopped dead in their tracks, staring. As I passed, one muttered, "What on earth?"

The car wobbled on my shoulder, surely jostling the passengers, but that was the least of my concerns.

The iron gates of LaRosa Manor came into view, with its sprawling lawn, dancing fountain, and the castle-like house beyond.

Some people were waiting: a young woman in white clinging to a middle-aged man's arm, a high-society dame, and a younger girl.

I halted before the gates, gently lowering the car to the ground with a soft thud.

Shaking out my shoulders, I faced them.

The man stepped forward, his voice steady but his eyes wide with shock.

"You're Elvira, I presume. I'm your father, Edward LaRosa. This is your mother, Catherine, and your sisters, Alice and Victoria."

They all looked as if they had seen a ghost.

Catherine finally broke the silence. "The journey must've been tough."

I shrugged. "Not really. It's all in a day's work."

Alice LaRosa's smile twitched, frozen.

Victoria LaRosa, impatient, piped up, "What's the deal with the car? And where's the driver?!"

I was on the verge of speaking when a weak voice echoed from behind me.

"Miss Victoria..."

David and the driver were propping each other up, their faces ghostly white, staring at me like I was some kind of monster straight out of a Godzilla flick.

"The car? It blew a tire," the driver stammered, "Miss Elvira, she... She hoisted the car on her back...and ran up here..."

"What?!" Victoria's voice spiked, "Are you out of your mind? That car's a beast, weighs a ton! No way a person could..."

She cut herself off, her words hanging in the air.

Because, against all odds, the car was there.

So was I.

There was only that one road winding up the mountain, and not a tow truck in sight.

Surely the car had not sprouted legs and scampered up there on its own, had it?

Right on cue, Alice stepped forward, her smile back in place as if nothing was amiss, playing peacemaker.

"Sis, you must be wiped out, huh? We usually leave the heavy lifting to the help..."

Her voice dripped with faux concern, but her eyes were busy taking me in, head to toe.

"It's a small matter, but..." I cut her off, my eyes sharp as daggers, locked onto hers.

Alice's smile flickered, just for a second.

"The car's left front tire was spiked with three brand-new caltrops. How do you explain that up here on the mountain?"

Victoria recoiled, a subtle step back.

I caught the flicker of panic in her eyes. She was just as David had described...innocent.

Alice did not glance her way, her smile unwavering as she faced me, "Someone must've dropped them by accident. You know, mountain bikers come through here sometimes..."

"Mountain bikers don't need caltrops," I called out her bluff without missing a beat, my voice anything but friendly.

I was not there to play the good little girl.

My smile was light, but my gaze was stone-cold. "What I'm saying is, someone's been trying to set me up before I even stepped past the door."

Alice's smile finally crumbled, and she fell silent.

The air was thick with tension.

Just then, Edward's deep voice cut through, as he turned to head for the main house.

"Alright. You're back, and that's what matters. Let's head inside."

It carried a strong sense of protectiveness.

I was not about to make a big deal out of the earlier incident, just a gentle nudge to remind them I was there.

I left the group behind and caught up with the others.

The foyer of the mansion was cavernous, which could easily fit two cars, and had a crystal chandelier that shone blindingly bright.

A servant nodded me toward a seat, and I settled in without hesitation.

The aroma of the soup was inviting, and I reached for the spoon.

"Elvira," Edward's voice cut through the silence. "In this house," he intoned, "the elders begin the meal."

Reluctantly, I set the spoon back down, shrugged to show I understood.

Dad always said family should not be bogged down by too many rules. Those high-society rituals were suffocating.

I needed to get my hands on the inheritance and get back to Newvale City, pronto.

It was only after Edward picked up his spoon that the rest of us could eat.

Victoria whispered just loud enough, "No manners at all..."

I ignored her. She was not the real challenge there, not with her every move so plainly obvious.

Alice, setting down her spoon, turned to me with a curious gaze. "Sis," she inquired, "is it true you were boxing for money before?"

"Yeah."

"It must've been hard in such places." Her voice dripped with feigned concern. "But you're home now, so no need for such tough work anymore."

"Tough work?" I was puzzled by her logic.

"I mean, boxing isn't really for girls." Alice's smile was patronizing. "You could take up flower arranging or piano. Mom's quite good at it."

Catherine's laughter chimed in, her arrogance effortless and unearned.

"I'm not interested in the piano." I said, my tone deliberate, "I'm planning to run the family business."

The room went still, and Alice's expression turned stormy.

Edward set down his utensils, his voice laced with disapproval. "What did you say?"

"The LaRosa Group's business." My tone was light and easy, "I'm your daughter, aren't I? Why shouldn't I join the company?"

Victoria could not help herself and blurted, "What kind of fantasy world are you living in?!"

'She's definitely not my match,' I mused to myself.

Edward raised his hand, silencing Victoria instantly.

"This company isn't some kids' boxing ring."

"I'm aware." I kept on chewing, not bothering to look up.

I knew he had his reasons, and he was not about to let me waltz into the group just because I said something on a whim.

However, I needed him to understand why I came back.

I was not about to end up like those idiots, pampered and caged until they were good for nothing.

Edward stayed quiet, just watching me, like he was sizing up a product.

"Let's eat first."

The rest of dinner passed in silence.

Afterward, in the corridor, Alice was waiting for me.

She moved in closer, her voice a hushed threat, "Listen: you better figure out where you stand."

"And where's that?" I gave her a dismissive smile, unfazed by her venom.

"A street rat from the slums."

Her arrogance was palpable, yet it had a different flavor than Catherine's haughtiness.

"Don't forget where you came from. The LaRosa estate is mine."

I turned to face her, my smile broadening. "Perhaps you're not aware, Miss Alice, but a street rat fights for what he wants."

She paused, taken aback.

"And trust me, the fight isn't pretty. Hope you're ready for it."

With that, I brushed past her, heading to my room.

Her voice followed, filled with seething rage, "We'll see about that, street rat!"

Once in my room, my phone buzzed with a message from Marco.

[We're settled in the west wing guest room. All's well.]

[We've discovered it was Miss Victoria who had nails scattered on your path.]

Victoria.

I typed back, [Keep tabs on her.]

I walked over to the window, gazing out at the sprawling estate swallowed by the night.

Twinkling lights cast a luxurious glow, luring people in like bait in a trap.

Who would be the prey?

It did not matter. The hunter had already made their entrance.