It was just past eleven at night when the special priority alert on my encrypted satellite phone pinged.

Intelligence had intercepted a post just uploaded to the Dark Web.

I opened it. Sophia was smiling innocently at the camera. The background was the highest-level safe house Lorenzo had arranged for her protection.

The video had clearly been recorded just minutes ago.

"Did a little artistic touch-up on a certain high-and-mighty 'Signorina' today."

She waved the tattoo gun at the camera, ink still dripping from the nozzle, her eyes full of provocation.

"Guess what I gave her? An inverted 'Angel's Eye'! In the Corleone family, that is the brand of a rat."

"You guys didn't see it. She's pushing thirty, still acting like some untouchable heiress. I drove that ink deep into her dermis. She’ll have to carry that shame for the rest of her life."

The encrypted comment section was a carnival for her little lackeys: "Long live the Principessa!" "Nice work!"

Sophia grew more excited as she spoke, toying with the luxury goods Lorenzo had given her.

"I’ve seen plenty of women like her. Relying on their so-called bloodline, always acting dignified in front of the Made Men."

She sighed with feigned pity. "Too bad. No matter how much Elena struggles, it’s useless. Lorenzo is wrapped around my finger."

"Next time, I’ll livestream something even better—watch me kick Elena out of New York and become the true Mama of the Corleone family."

The video shook violently for a second, then cut off abruptly, as if something had breached the room.

I let out a cold laugh and turned off the screen.

Sophia.

I was the one who gave her that name.

Five years ago, during the riots in the slums of Naples, I found her in a pile of corpses.

A fifteen-year-old girl curled up in the gutter like a rat, covered in blood, nearly beaten to death over half a loaf of bread.

Her eyes held that desperate, beast-like will to survive.

Back then, she was just a nameless stray, clutching the hem of my muddy dress, begging for help.

In a moment of softness, I didn't just save her; I brought her before my father, the Godfather, and persuaded him to adopt her.

I gave her a new life, turning a beggar into the esteemed "Principessa" of the Corleone family.

Now, she was using the power and affection my father and I had given her to carve the brand of a "traitor" into my back.

To humiliate me in front of the entire family.

She even dared to covet my position in the hierarchy and destroy my marriage.

But what truly chilled my heart was Lorenzo.

He knew a daughter of the Corleone bloodline could not tolerate such humiliation. Yet, to maintain the facade of "sibling harmony" within the family, he chose to sacrifice my dignity.

I knew he might be tiptoeing around the old Don's dying wish to look after Sophia.

But I had no interest in a balancing act that came at my expense.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

It was an encrypted message from the leader of "The Soldatos"—the private paramilitary force my father had left solely to me:

"Elena, target secured. We bypassed Lorenzo's security detail. ETA twenty minutes to your private underground armory."

Twenty minutes later, the heavy blast doors of my underground armory slowly groaned open. Dozens of fully armed Soldatos stood at attention in two rows.

Two masked enforcers dragged Sophia in and threw her onto the cold concrete floor like a dead dog.

She struggled to look up. Her arrogant gaze was now filled with terror, especially when she saw the Corleone crests surrounding her.

"Elena! Are you crazy?"

Something clicked in her mind, and she screamed, her voice shrill but lacking real confidence.

"How dare you kidnap me without authorization! Lorenzo will never forgive you when he finds out!"

"I am a Princess of the Corleone family too! I represent the family's face! If you dare touch a hair on my head, the family won't let you off!"

I looked down at her and chuckled softly.

"When Lorenzo proposed to me, he swore he would never let me suffer the slightest grievance."

Her expression twisted for a moment.

I held a piece of white buckskin cloth, slowly and methodically polishing a silver antique revolver.

"Do you think that adopted title of yours allows you to walk all over me?"

She looked at the dark muzzle of the gun, and her body began to tremble violently.

*Click.*

I snapped the cylinder shut and elegantly chambered a round.

"You've got one thing wrong."

"I am not just Lorenzo's wife."

"I am the only Corleone Mama."

"In the world of Cosa Nostra, no one dares to insult me."

I tossed the antique revolver onto the ammo crate.

For a traitor, a bullet was too merciful.

I took a sharp Sicilian stiletto off the torture rack. The blade reflected a cold gleam in the dim light.

That flash of cold metal caught my eye, and for a split second, I saw eighteen-year-old Lorenzo.

Back then, he was just an Associate not yet recognized by the family, wearing an ill-fitting cheap suit, standing in the rainy street.

As an outcast pushed aside by the family, he didn't even have a decent weapon.

Once, trying to reclaim a smuggled shipment for the family, he got two ribs broken and collapsed in an alley like a stray dog.

That was the first time I disobeyed my father's orders and used the family doctor to save him.

I shoved a stack of cash and a Browning engraved with the family crest into his hand.

But he stubbornly pushed the money back, his wolf-like eyes staring dead at me: "Miss Corleone, please leave me some dignity."

Since then, I just "happened" to provide him with intel and "conveniently" took care of a few hitmen watching him.

On Christmas Eve, he clutched two stone-cold sandwiches.

Amidst the church bells, he handed me a single rose, his hands covered in blood: "Elena, will you wait for me? Wait until I reach the top."

Years later, he stepped over countless corpses to become a high-ranking member of the Corleone family, eventually becoming the Underboss through my maneuvering.

That night, he knelt by my skirt and kissed the back of my hand.

"All those years living on the blade, I was terrified I wasn't worthy of your noble bloodline. I was scared you'd find out I fought in underground boxing rings all night just to buy you that rose."

It wasn't until we signed the marriage contract that he realized what a massive underground empire the name Corleone represented.

Lorenzo later told me that was the moment he understood.

"The finish line I clawed my way to was just your starting line."

To prove himself, Lorenzo became the most vicious "mad dog" in the Mafia world.

He frantically expanded territory and purged dissidents, just to stand tall beside me.

Unfortunately, the poison of power corroded everything.

The only warmth in this cruel world couldn't survive the erosion of profit.

"Are... are you really going to do it?"

Sophia's trembling voice pulled me back to reality.

I looked at the dagger in my hand, which I had only intended to use to scare her, my eyes cold.

"Since you like leaving marks on others, I'll give you one too."

I just wanted to cut her arm to teach her a lesson about the price of offending the family Mama.

However, a flash of madness suddenly appeared in Sophia's eyes.

Before I could react, she lunged at me, grabbed my wrist, and forced the blade into her own lower abdomen!

Blood instantly stained her white lace dress red.

"Ah—!"

A shrill scream echoed through the underground armory.

The next second, the heavy blast door was blown open from the outside.

Smoke cleared, and Lorenzo rushed in, radiating murderous intent.

He saw this scene: Sophia lying on the ground covered in blood, while I held the dripping dagger.

"Elena! What the hell are you doing!"

Lorenzo's roar made my eardrums ache.

Sophia clutched her wound, her face pale, weeping like a pear blossom bathed in rain.

"Lorenzo... help me..."

"She said... she said I stole your attention, and only if I died would you love her again..."

"She wants to kill me... to silence me..."

Lorenzo's pupils constricted sharply. In that instant, I saw real fear in his eyes.

He was afraid I had actually killed Sophia. He didn't trust me.

"Put the knife down, you psycho!"

Lorenzo charged at me like an out-of-control lion.

To stop the "crazy" me, he subconsciously shoved me hard.

He was too strong, possessing the explosive power honed from years of combat.

I lost my balance and fell backward, my forehead smashing heavily against the sharp corner of a redwood crate used for storing munitions.

There was a dull *thud*.

Warm liquid trickled down my forehead, instantly blurring my vision.

The pain nearly made me pass out, but I kept my eyes locked on Lorenzo.

He didn't even look at me.

He fell to his knees in a panic, carefully lifting the blood-soaked Sophia, his hands trembling.

"It's okay, Sophia. I'm here. I've got you."

"Doctor! Get the family doctor down here now!"

He roared, but when he turned to look at me, his eyes held only rage and disappointment.

"Elena, you are unbelievable!"

"Killing out of jealousy? When did you become so vicious?"

"If anything happens to Sophia, how am I supposed to explain this to the rest of the family?"

I leaned against the cold wooden crate, blood dripping onto the floor.

Watching him lose his mind over another woman, I suddenly remembered that rainy night when I was eighteen.

He was like this then, too, but back then, the person he was protecting was me.

To save me from stray bullets, he used his back to block all the shrapnel.

Back then, he said as long as he was alive, he wouldn't let me shed a single drop of blood.

I wiped the blood from my forehead and laughed coldly.

"Jealousy? Vicious?"

"Lorenzo, look closely. She stabbed herse..."

"Shut up!"

Lorenzo rudely cut me off. He had clearly decided I was just making excuses.

Seeing that Lorenzo wouldn't listen to a word, Sophia nestled in his arms, gasping weakly, and suddenly dropped the line she had prepared long ago.

"Lorenzo... save our baby..."

"I'm... I'm carrying your flesh and blood..."

"She knew I was pregnant... that's why she wanted to kill me..."

The air froze instantly.

Lorenzo stiffened. He looked down at the woman in his arms in disbelief, then jerked his head up to look at me, his eyes filled with hatred and suspicion.

The air was thick with the stench of disinfectant .

Pavel, the Corleone family doctor, peeled off his bloodied rubber gloves. His eyes darted around, refusing to meet mine.

He wiped cold sweat from his forehead, turned to Lorenzo, and bowed deeply. His voice trembled but echoed clearly in the dead silence.

"Don, Sophia's wound... it looks alarming, but no internal organs were damaged."

Lorenzo's tense shoulders had just begun to relax when Pavel dropped the bombshell that shattered my last shred of dignity.

"However, during the examination, we discovered that Sophia is two months pregnant."

"That is the precious bloodline of the Corleone family. It is your child..."

In that instant, I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

I looked at Lorenzo.

The man I had loved for twelve years, the man who swore only I was worthy of bearing his heirs, now stood frozen.

There was no rage or denial as I had expected.

His eyes held shock at first, which was quickly replaced by a complex mix of wild ecstasy.

"Is it true? ...I have a child with you?"

He didn't even spare me a glance. He strode to the hospital bed and grasped Sophia's uninjured hand as if holding a rare treasure.

Sophia leaned weakly against the pillows, her face pale—perfectly staged.

In reality, that knife had barely scratched her skin; it didn't even need stitches.

But right now, she looked like a porcelain doll ready to shatter, tears clinging to the corners of her eyes as she looked up at him timidly.

"Lorenzo... I'm so sorry... I wanted to keep it from you."

"I know Elena hates me. If she knew I was carrying the family's firstborn, she would have killed me and the baby..."

"Just now in the basement, she wanted to drive that knife right into my stomach... I thought I was going to die."

She gasped for air, her body trembling violently with sobs, as if the psycho who had just stabbed herself wasn't her.

I stood in the corner, the wound on my forehead still oozing blood that stung my eyes.

But no one cared.

I watched this absurd farce with cold eyes.

"Lorenzo," I spoke, my voice raspy. "You believe her?"

Lorenzo whipped around, his gaze so unfamiliar it chilled me to the bone.

It was the look of a protector facing an intruder.

"The facts are right in front of us, Elena!"

He pointed at the grainy black-and-white image on the ultrasound machine, his tone harsh and unquestionable.

"This is my blood. This is the future of the family! And you nearly killed him with your own hands!"

"We are in the middle of a vendetta. Hitmen from rival families are targeting our every weakness."

"To protect this sole bloodline, I must make a decision."

He took a deep breath, issuing a Don's command that could not be defied.

"Prepare the private jet immediately. Send Sophia to 'Black Rock Fortress' in Sicily."

"It has the world's top defense systems. It is the ultimate safe zone."

I didn't get angry; instead, I laughed.

Black Rock Fortress.

That was a sanctuary reserved only for the acting Mama of the family. Now he was opening it for a mistress and a bastard.

"You're sending her to Sicily?" I stepped forward, forcing him to look at me. "Then where does that leave me?"

Lorenzo seemed stung by my gaze. He avoided my eyes, furrowing his brows.

"Elena, this isn't the time for petty jealousy."

He pressed his earpiece, connecting to the family's security channel.

"This is Don Corleone. Orders: immediately mobilize all elite members of the 'Shadow Guard' to escort Sophia to Sicily."

"Initiate S-Class protection protocols. I want zero mistakes!"

My pupils constricted sharply.

The Shadow Guard.

That was the last trump card my father left me, death squad soldiers who answered only to me. In this turbulent period of vendettas, they were my only amulet.

He was stripping away all my defenses for Sophia?

"Lorenzo!" I shouted. "That is *my* guard! If you withdraw them, what happens to me?"

"Every gangster in New York knows the family is vulnerable right now. Do you want me to die?"

Lorenzo turned and gripped my shoulders with both hands.

His grip was strong, hurting me.

His eyes held a trace of pain and struggle I couldn't read, but his tone was coldly matter-of-fact.

"Elena, you're different."

"You've had the best combat training since you were a child. Your marksmanship is better than many of my Capos."

"You are strong enough. You have the ability to take care of your own safety."

He glanced at Sophia on the bed, who looked weak enough to expire at any moment, and his gaze instantly softened.

"But Sophia can't. She's too fragile. She's pregnant, and that is my firstborn son."

"She and the child need this protection more than you do."

I looked at the man in front of me.

How righteously he spoke.

Because I was strong, I deserved to be abandoned?

Because she was weak, she could rightfully steal everything from me?

I slapped his hands away, took two steps back, and leaned against the cold wall.

Blood from my forehead dripped onto the pristine white floor tiles, blooming into glaring red flowers.

The last spark of hope in my heart was finally extinguished in that moment.

"Fine."

I heard my own voice, calm to the point of being eerie.

"Since you want to save her, then take everyone."

"I hope that in the future, you won't regret today's decision."

Lorenzo looked at the resolve in my eyes and felt a sudden, inexplicable panic.

He opened his mouth, seeming to want to explain: "Elena, once the heat dies down, I will..."

I pointed at the door.

"Take your Princess and your firstborn, and get the hell out of my sight immediately."