The Mafia circle in New York City was a tangled web, where power shifted in the blink of an eye.

The Dusk family, once a powerful force in the underworld, was now reduced to nothing more than a pawn in the game. Their only hope for survival was to marry off their daughters, securing the support they so desperately needed.

I, Seraphina Dusk, was sadly one of those daughters.

In my past life, I had managed to secure myself a powerful marriage. I married Silas Vane, the head of the most influential mafia family in the country. My sister, Lila, was less fortunate, ending up with Jaxon Westmore—whom she believed would save her.

I gave Silas a son and a daughter, and in return, my family was gifted wealth and power.

But my sister? She was not so lucky. Jaxon wasn’t the man she thought he was. Instead of honoring the marriage or alliance, he squandered his time on models and strippers, leaving Lila discarded by both him and our father.

One seemingly ordinary day, Lila invited me to lunch—never did I expect that she would kill me, drove a knife into my heart.

Then she killed herself.

And now here I was, reborn, back when our father first told us that Lila and I have to marry for the family.

And this time, Lila called her shots on Silas Vane.

That’s when I knew. She was reborn as well.

Let her have him, then. She had no idea what kind of man he really was.

My stepsister killed me. All because her marriage fell apart and she couldn’t stand the sight of mine. She envied the glittering illusion of my “perfect” life—never realizing the truth about what my so-called perfect marriage really was.

And luckily, the fate had given me another chance. I was reborn before everything happened.

“Father, I want to marry Silas Vane.”

The moment Lila spoke his name, a chill raced down my spine. I knew instantly—she had been reborn just like me.

In our past life, Lila had chosen Jaxon Westmore. The Westmores looked golden from the outside, but underneath that shine? Rot. Corruption.

And Jaxon himself was the worst of it. He was a husband in name only, spending his nights with strippers and models, never once delivering the support he promised her… or my father.

By contrast, my marriage to Silas Vane had been praised as untouchable.

I gave him a son and a daughter—in return, he gave my family wealth, protection, influence. Father could not have been more pleased.

My son, carrying both Dusk and Vane blood, was destined to rule one day.

I knew Lila envied me, I saw in her eyes every time she looked at me. I just never imagined that she would have that envy burned hot enough to kill me.

And now, standing in that study again, I watched her pretty face light up, her eyes sparkling as she declared she wanted Silas for herself.

“And you, Seraphina?” Father’s voice cut through, sharp and expectant. “Have you decided which family you’ll marry into?”

Lila smirked at me, her lips curling like she was already savoring her victory.

She knew there were only two families that mattered. Silas Vane, or Jaxon Westmore. The rest held little power, not enough money, not enough worth.

She was probably counting on me to volunteer myself marrying Jaxon in this life—live the miserable life she had once endured.

“Sera,” Lila purred, her tone too sweet, “don’t tell me you’ve also set your eyes on Silas? You wouldn’t fight your own sister for a man, would you?”

The memory of her hands stealing my life—of being torn away from my son and daughter—burned like acid in my veins.

But I smiled, even as my nails bit into my palms.

“Nonsense,” I said lightly. “You’ve already claimed him. What kind of sister would I be if I fought you over another man?”

Perfect words. Smooth. No cracks for her to slip a knife into.

“Then who will you choose?” she pressed. “I hear Jaxon Westmore is a strong option. The Westmores have political connections. If you marry him, he’ll give us exactly the support we need.”

Of course she’d say that. The cruelty of it almost made me laugh.

“I agree,” Father said. His eyes gleamed at the thought. “The Westmores have been tied to politics for decades. Imagine the opportunities, Seraphina—international ties, influence across borders.”

I cut him off before he could dream further.

“Father,” I said, my voice steady as steel. “I want to marry Lucien Blackwell.”

The moment I dropped that name, both Lila’s and Father’s faces shifted.

The Blackwells had been nothing more than a cautionary tale for over a decade. Once, they dominated the state’s arms trade. Then came the disastrous deal with the Russians—an alliance that imploded in blood and fire, leaving half their family dead and their empire in ruins.

Since then, their name had faded from the lips of power.

“Are you joking?” Lila’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in feigned shock. “Lucien Blackwell? Father wants us to marry into strength, not weakness. You’d drain our resources to prop up a fallen family, just so they can claw their way back to glory?”

Father’s scowl deepened the longer she spoke. “Lila is right. You know our family is suffering, Sera. We need powerful alliances. The Blackwells are not one.”

But I hadn’t spoken Lucien’s name on a whim. I had met him once in my last life.

It was at one of Silas’s casinos—a place I’d been foolish enough to visit when Silas was too busy to play the role of husband. The usual drunken chaos had broken into a full-blown fight, and I’d been cornered by men too reckless to care who I was. Lucien appeared like a shadow and pulled me free. He didn’t ask for thanks, didn’t want a reward. Later, I learned his name when Silas reviewed the footage himself: Lucien Blackwell.

He had been nothing to me then. But I remembered him. A man who carried himself like a gentleman in a world that had none.

If I had to marry again—for Father’s ambitions, for the Dusk name—I’d rather bind myself to a man like that.

A man I could build something with. Maybe not a fairy tale. But a partnership.

“Father,” I said evenly, “you’ve always wanted to step into arms dealing. The Blackwells, despite their fall, still hold unmatched experience in that field. They don’t have resources anymore—but they have knowledge. They can guide us, if nothing else.”

Father’s gaze bored into me, measuring. He knew I was right. Compared to all that politics, Father was always more fascinated by arms dealing and international influences.

So in the end, he could do nothing but give a begrudging nod.

“Congratulations, sister. It seems we’ll both marry into powerful families. And of course, if you ever need anything, you know Silas has always been generous. He never minds helping the less fortunate.”

Her words dripped with false kindness, her sneer barely hidden. She thought she’d secured herself a glittering future.

I almost pitied her. Almost.

If only she knew what I had endured. The price I paid for that so-called perfect marriage.

Silas had never been the devoted husband he pretended to be. And the children I bore him? They were never the result of love.

Silas was almost like Jaxon, but with one difference—he cared about appearances. He cared about how people saw him, about his reputation, about the perfect picture he painted in public.

Behind closed doors, it was another story.

At the start of our marriage, we struggled to have children. The problem was Silas’s. But still, he laid the blame at my feet. My body, my failure, my infertility.

He paraded me through hospitals, demanding procedure after procedure, forcing me through endless IVF shots until my arms were bruised and my spirit broken.

Eventually, I did get pregnant. And to the world, Silas looked like the devoted husband who had finally been blessed with an heir.

At Silas’s countless social gatherings, he posed with me on his arm, smiling, protective, the very picture of a man who adored his wife.

And then the doors would shut, and I was treated no better than his staff. If not worse.

The only sin Silas avoided was striking me. Everything else—every way a man could degrade and disrespect a woman—he excelled at.

“That’s good to hear, Lila.” I smiled sweetly at her across the room. “I truly hope you’ll be happy in your upcoming marriage. I heard Silas Vane could be… rather harsh.”

Her face tightened, just for a second. “Bitter much, Seraphina? Are you jealous? Because I get to marry Silas, and you don’t?”

“No, of course not.” My smile never faltered. “I just want to make sure my little sister won’t regret today’s choice. Sometimes a man isn’t what he seems, you know.”

“Don’t try to influence me,” Lila snapped, her chin tilting high. “I’ll have the perfect marriage. I’ll give Father everything he wants. As for you and your Lucien Blackwell? Let’s just hope you don’t end up discarded at the end.”

She rolled her eyes, triumphant, and swept away.

I held my smile until she was gone. Let’s hope you never regret it, Lila. Because with Silas, regret isn’t an option. It’s either endurance or nothing.

…

The months that followed were unbearable. Lila never stopped talking. What Silas had bought her. Where Silas had taken her. Jewelry. Dresses. Dinners. A dream spun into words until I wanted to gag.

And Lucien? I hadn’t seen him once since our engagement was announced.

“Your Mr. Blackwell hasn’t shown up once, has he?” Lila sneered one morning, her lips curling. “Too poor to take you shopping?”

I ignored her, smoothing my dress. “Don’t mind me, Lila. Just focus on your own wedding.”

Her laugh was sharp. She opened her mouth again, but the butler entered before she could draw blood.

“Miss Dusks,” he said with a bow, carrying a polished wooden box. “Mr. Blackwell left this for you.”

My head snapped up. “He didn’t come in?”

“He said it would be bad fortune to see the bride before the wedding. A very handsome, very gentle man, if I may say so, Miss Dusk.” The butler’s eyes twinkled as he passed me the box.

Our wedding was three days away.

“What is it? What did he give you?” Lila was practically clawing for the box, her greed thinly veiled.

I pulled it against my chest and stood. “I’m tired. Father, if you’ll excuse me.”

…

As soon as I shut the door to my room, I carried the box to my dresser. My hands lingered on the lid. What could Lucien Blackwell possibly have given me?

When I opened it, my breath caught.

A diamond necklace. Not just any diamond, either. I had never seen a piece this luminous, this unapologetically extravagant. Every inch of it sparkled like captured starlight.

For weeks, I had been preparing myself to fund my own wedding—dress, jewelry, everything. The Blackwells were a fallen house, and I had assumed Lucien would bring nothing but his name. I never imagined he would give me something so breathtaking.

Beneath the necklace lay a small envelope.

I unfolded the note inside, Lucien’s handwriting clean and firm:

Miss Dusk, this necklace is a Blackwell heirloom. By giving it to you, I hope you see my gratitude for our marriage. I wish for your happiness as much as my own, and I hope to see you wear this on our wedding day.

No woman hated diamonds. And no woman could resist this diamond. The necklace gleamed as though the world itself had been set in silver and fire.

With trembling hands, I lifted it free and fastened it around my throat. It sat perfectly, like it had been made for me. For the first time, I could almost see it—the dress I had chosen, this necklace at my throat, and myself walking down the aisle.

…

The wedding day arrived far too quickly. At Father’s insistence, Lila and I were to marry on the same day, in the same hotel, each with our own ballroom. Lila insisted on joining me in my bridal suite, pretending it was for sisterhood. I knew better.

“Sera, look at my dress.” She twirled in satin and lace, smug as a queen. “Isn’t this the most stunning gown you’ve ever seen?” Her gaze flicked over mine, and her lip curled. “Plain. Are you really going to wear that on your wedding day? Well, I suppose when you’re marrying a Blackwell, you can’t expect to dress like royalty.”

I ignored her, carefully applying my lipstick.

She smirked at my silence. “You don’t have to pretend, Sera. I know you feel terrible. You must regret—”

For once, I cut her off. Slowly, I turned, letting the light catch the diamonds at my throat. “What do you think of this necklace?”

Her expression faltered. “Where did you get that? Fake diamonds?”

“Real,” I said evenly. “Lucien gave me this when we were engaged. He asked me to wear it today.”

I rose, smoothing my gown, and walked toward the door. Just before leaving, I glanced back at her.

“Here’s some advice, Lila. Don’t brag about things you don’t understand.”

Her face twisted, red with fury. “You—”

But I didn’t stay to hear the rest. I closed the door behind me and walked toward my ballroom, the necklace gleaming like a shield against every sneer and every lie.

Lila hadn’t exaggerated. Her wedding was a spectacle—grand enough to outshine the one I’d had with Silas in my past life. The ballroom was overflowing, glittering with chandeliers, champagne, and guests that mattered. Even a state senator had come to offer his congratulations.

My own wedding hall sat at the opposite end of the corridor. Smaller. Quieter. But intimate in a way that mattered to me more.

When I asked Lucien if he wanted to invite anyone from his circle, his answer had been simple. “Invite whoever you want. As for me—only family. I don’t have many friends.”

That had struck something in me. Because I didn’t either.

So, in the end, only my closest girlfriends and Father were invited. He would watch me wed first, then hurry across the hall to watch Lila’s grand affair.

I expected my wedding to feel small, maybe even lonely. Instead, it was nothing I imagined.

The Blackwells weren’t cold, calculating, or arrogant like my father, nor shallow and preening like Lila. They were warm. Welcoming. Gentle, just like Lucien. And somehow, what should have been plain felt cozy. Real. Happy.

When the officiant’s voice rang out—“Take Seraphina Dusk as your loyal wife, to never abandon her, to support her in poor or rich. Mr. Blackwell, you may kiss your bride”—I braced myself.

Lucien leaned in, close enough that I felt my heart stumble and my cheeks heat. His breath brushed mine. “May I?” he whispered.

I nodded. He kissed me lightly, reverently, as if I were something precious.

…

“Have you packed already?” Lucien asked later as he drove me back to the Dusk mansion. We had agreed I would move out today.

“Yes, just a few boxes. I don’t own much,” I said with a small smile.

But when we pulled into the driveway, we ran straight into Lila and Silas.

“Honey,” Lila said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she leaned into Silas’s arm, “this is my stepsister and her… husband.”

Her gaze slid to Lucien, and she gave a cruel little laugh. “Have you heard of the Blackwells? This is that Blackwell—the one who went poor. Couldn’t even afford to buy my sister a wedding dress. Honestly, I feel sorry for them. Maybe we should give them some of our money. As charity.”

The insult burned hotter than any she’d thrown before. She wasn’t sneering at just me anymore—she was sneering at Lucien.

I stepped forward, seized her wrist, and yanked her around. “Apologize.”

She jerked, trying to pull free. “Get off me. I’m only telling the truth.”

“I said—apologize.” My voice came out sharper than steel. Fury flared hot and unrelenting. “You’ve crossed a line, Lila. My husband and I are not yours to mock.”

Her eyes widened, panic flickering beneath the bravado. “How dare you? Which part did I say wrong? That the Blackwells are broke? Or that he couldn’t afford your dress?”

“I won’t ask again.” My grip tightened on her wrist. “Apologize to Lucien. Now.”

“Miss Dusk.” Silas finally stepped in, voice smooth, his tone that of a mafia king who always played diplomat. “If my wife has offended you in any way, then please—allow me to apologize on her behalf.”

I smiled, releasing Lila at last. “Okay.”

Silas’s practiced expression froze. “What?”

“You said you’d apologize on her behalf,” I said calmly, my voice steady. “So go ahead. Apologize to my husband.”

Silas hadn’t expected that. His smile faltered, stretching into something stiff, unnatural. Still, he turned to Lucien. “Sorry. My wife spoke out of turn. Since you and I are brothers-in-law now, surely you won’t hold it against her. She’s… straightforward.”

“Understood,” Lucien replied, his arm tightening protectively around my waist. His voice was smooth but edged with steel. “But let’s hope we never hear words like that from Mrs. Vane again.”

Lila’s face burned with fury, but I didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes—the quick, wary glance she gave Silas, like she was afraid of him.