Reborn Heiress: Pampered By The Ruthless Don

The man smiling in the silver frame on my vanity was the very same man who, in exactly three months, would wrap his hands around my throat.

I knew this because I had already died.

I had felt the freezing, silty water of the Hudson River fill my lungs while Alexander watched the life drain from my eyes, his mistress laughing in the background.

I had hovered like a ghost above my own funeral, watching the betrayal continue even after my death.

My mother, the perfect Mafia widow, stood stoically next to my killer, unaware she had sold her daughter to a butcher. My fiancé checked his watch, bored, waiting to liquidate my inheritance.

But then I saw him.

Darrian Golden. The Don of the rival clan. The enemy.

He stood in the pouring rain, his expensive suit soaked through, staring at my coffin as if the world had ended. When the earth hit the wood, he didn't just cry; he roared in primal agony. My fiancé killed me, but my enemy was the only one who mourned me.

"The Commission is waiting," my mother’s voice snapped the timeline back into place.

She stood in my doorway, demanding I set the engagement date to secure the territory. She saw a charming Capo; I saw the rat who had cut my father's brake lines.

In my first life, I was a trembling bird. In this life, I was the match that would burn the cage down.

I smashed the photo frame against the marble table, the sound cracking through the room like a gunshot.

"Contact the Golden Clan," I commanded.

My mother went pale. "He is a savage, Azalea. He butchers men for sport."

"Tell Don Golden that Azalea Kidd is offering a parley," I said, looking out the window at the city that would soon be ours.

"Tell him I am offering the only thing he has ever wanted: Me."

Chapter 1

The man smiling in the silver frame on my vanity was the very same man who, in exactly three months, would wrap his hands around my throat.

He would watch the life drain from my eyes while his mistress laughed in the background.

I knew this because I had already died.

I had already felt the freezing, silty water of the Hudson River fill my lungs.

I had already felt the betrayal snap my ribs long before the current did.

And I had already seen my own funeral.

I had hovered like a ghost above the wet grass, watching the only man who truly loved me fall to his knees and scream until his voice shattered the silence of the cemetery.

It wasn't the man in the picture.

"Azalea, are you listening to me?"

My mother’s voice snapped the timeline back into place.

Emilee Wallace stood in the doorway of my penthouse bedroom, clutching a tablet against her chest like a shield.

She looked immaculate, as always.

Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in her silk blouse.

A perfect Mafia widow.

A perfect pawn.

"The Commission is waiting," she said, her voice tight with the anxiety of a woman terrified of losing her status. "Alexander is downstairs. He expects an answer about the engagement date today. The alliance secures the territory. It’s what your father would have wanted."

I looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She didn't know she was selling her daughter to a butcher.

She only saw Alexander Booth as the charming Capo, the man who stepped up when my father, the Don of the Kidd crime family, died.

She didn't know Alexander was the one who had cut the brake lines on my father's car.

I stood up, smoothing the fabric of my dress.

My hands didn't shake.

In my first life, I was a trembling bird, desperate for a cage to feel safe in.

In this life, I was the match that would burn the cage down.

"I have an answer," I said.

I walked over to the vanity.

I picked up the heavy silver frame holding the photo of Alexander and me—a picture taken the day he promised to protect me forever.

I looked at his handsome, lying face.

The face of a usurper.

A rat.

I raised the frame and smashed it against the marble edge of the table.

The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.

Glass shattered, flying across the room like jagged diamonds.

The photo tore down the middle, severing his arm from my shoulder.

My mother gasped, dropping her tablet. "Azalea! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

"I’m finding it," I said, my voice low and steady. "Tell Alexander to leave. Tell him there will be no engagement. Not today. Not ever."

"You can't do that," she hissed, stepping over the broken glass to grab my arm. "He controls the soldiers. He controls the routes. Without him, we are vulnerable. Who else is powerful enough to hold the Kidd territory? Who else would even look at you with the respect due to a Don's daughter?"

I pulled my arm from her grip.

The memory of the funeral flashed in my mind again.

Rain pouring.

A sea of black umbrellas.

And him.

Darrian Golden.

The Don of the rival Golden Clan.

The enemy.

The monster mothers used to scare their children.

He hadn't bothered with an umbrella.

He stood in the rain, his expensive suit soaked through, staring at my coffin as if the world had ended.

When the earth hit the wood, he didn't just cry.

He roared.

A sound of pure, primal agony that terrified even the priest.

My fiancé had stood there with dry eyes, checking his watch.

But my enemy had mourned me.

"Contact the Golden Clan," I told my mother.

Her face went pale, the blood draining away so fast she looked like a corpse herself. "The... the Goldens? Darrian Golden? He is a savage, Azalea. He butchers men for sport. He’s been trying to dismantle your father’s legacy for years."

"He is the only one strong enough to kill the rats in our walls," I said.

I walked to the window, looking down at the street where Alexander’s black SUV waited.

I knew Alaric, Darrius, and Jefferey were down there too.

My father's "loyal" soldiers.

The ones who had held me down while Alexander injected the sedative before tossing me off the boat.

"Send the message, Mother," I commanded, turning back to her. "Tell Don Golden that Azalea Kidd is offering a parley. Tell him I am offering the only thing he has ever wanted."

"Which is?" she whispered, terrified.

"Me."