Two of New York’s most powerful Cosa Nostra dons, Vincent Luciano and Nick Valentino, made a brutal wager over me.

The terms were simple: whoever won my heart first would win the right to marry Seraphina Moretti, the sole heir to the Moretti crime syndicate.

The ruthless Vincent swept me into his Fifth Avenue penthouse, lavishing me with luxuries all of New York would kill for.

Cold, reserved Nick played the lovesick fool, kneeling beneath the moonlight over the Hudson to swear he’d give me a safe life, free from this world’s bloodshed and chaos.

I said yes.

But the second we stepped into Vincent’s oak-paneled study, Nick’s warmth turned frigid.

“Vincent, we had a deal. I’ve won the Moretti marriage.”

In my past life, I was discarded by both men, betrayed by my family, and left to die of a forced heroin overdose.

Now I’ve been reborn.

And this time, I still said yes to Nick’s proposal...

But everything would be totally different.

Two of New York’s most powerful Cosa Nostra dons, Vincent Luciano and Nick Valentino, made a brutal wager over me.

The terms were simple: whoever won my heart first would win the right to marry Seraphina Moretti, the sole heir to the Moretti crime syndicate.

The ruthless Vincent swept me into his Fifth Avenue penthouse, lavishing me with luxuries all of New York would kill for.

Cold, reserved Nick played the lovesick fool, kneeling beneath the moonlight over the Hudson to swear he’d give me a safe life, free from this world’s bloodshed and chaos.

I said yes.

But the second we stepped into Vincent’s oak-paneled study, Nick’s warmth turned frigid.

“Vincent, we had a deal. I’ve won the Moretti marriage.”

In my past life, I was discarded by both men, betrayed by my family, and left to die of a forced heroin overdose.

Now I’ve been reborn.

And this time, I still said yes to Nick’s proposal...

But everything would be totally different.

...

Nick knelt on one knee before me, a custom-made diamond ring glinting between his fingers.

“Leah. Marry me. I’ll give you a home, a safe life. I’ll never break my promise. Not for as long as I live.”

My fingertips trembled, but not from longing.

I’d always known who Nick Valentino and Vincent Luciano truly wanted: Seraphina Moretti, the untouchable heiress to the Moretti crime syndicate.

I was nothing but a pawn; my resemblance to Seraphina was the entire premise of their sick wager: whoever won my heart first would win Seraphina’s hand in marriage, and with it, unchallenged control of the East Coast underworld.

In my past life, I’d screamed myself hoarse, demanding to know if his late-night comfort, whispered vows, and the silver bracelet engraved with our initials had ever been real.

He’d stared at me coldly and told me it had all been a game to win the bet. His heart had only ever belonged to Seraphina.

Vincent, the man who’d sworn to protect me no matter what, had laughed in my face.

“You want undivided love? Neither Nick nor I can give you that. You were always just a playing piece. His promises were only ever for Seraphina.”

This time, I stared at his feigned devotion, nails digging into my palm until I drew blood, and nodded, my voice soft but steady.

“Yes. I’ll marry you.”

Light exploded in his eyes.

He slipped the ring onto my finger, pulled me into a tight hug, and whispered endless endearments into my hair.

But I knew the truth: he was rushing to seal his win on the bet, to hightail it to Chicago and kneel before his precious Seraphina.

This time, I’d said yes not out of love.

Nick led me to Vincent’s Fifth Avenue penthouse, the very same setting from my past life.

Vincent sat behind his mahogany desk, spinning a silver Beretta 92 between his fingers, dark eyes cold and unreadable.

Nick dropped my hand, stepped forward, and spoke the same icy lines I’d heard a lifetime ago.

“Vincent. We had a deal. Whoever won the girl’s heart secures the Moretti marriage. I’ve won.”

He pulled a pre-signed partnership agreement from his pocket.

“You’ll be my witness. I’ll take care of Seraphina.”

Not once did he glance back at me.

Barely three hours earlier, he’d slipped that engraved bracelet onto my wrist and sworn to spend the rest of his life with me.

Vincent’s gaze snapped to me, sharp as a blade.

“You said yes to him?” His voice dripped with the same mocking contempt I remembered.

“Too bad you were just a bet. His promises were only ever for Seraphina.”

A faint twinge of pain lanced through my chest, but I didn’t move.

No screaming, no crying, no desperate demands like I’d made in my past life.

I’d always known I was a prop.

The game was over, and they had no use for me anymore.

Nick secured a nod of agreement from Vincent, then bolted out the door, already bound for Chicago.

The study fell silent, leaving only Vincent and me.

He leaned back in his chair, a cruel smirk tugging at his lips.

“What? Still here? Hoping I’ll let you stay on as my mistress?”

Once, he’d stood before all his capos and vowed, “I, Vincent Luciano, will never harm Leah Rossi, for any reason. No one in this family touches her.”

He’d sworn to protect me, no matter who I chose.

Now he looked at me like a cockroach he could crush under his boot without a second thought.

I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat, gave a sharp, curt nod, and turned to leave.

But his chief bodyguard stepped forward, blocking the door.

“Miss Rossi. You’re not permitted to take anything belonging to the Luciano family with you.”

In my past life, I’d screamed and cursed them, and they’d stripped me bare, thrown me into the snow, made me the laughingstock of the entire New York underworld.

This time, I didn’t fight.

I’d already learned the cost of that.

This time, I closed my eyes.

No hesitation.

I pulled the diamond studs from my ears, slipped the engagement ring and engraved silver bracelet off my wrist, and dropped them all into the guard’s outstretched palm.

“Is that enough?” My voice was a little rough, but perfectly calm.

The guard froze, glancing back at Vincent.

Vincent’s eyebrow lifted.

My quiet compliance only seemed to stoke the malice in him.

He stepped toward me, staring down with ice-cold contempt.

“Every meal, every dress, every night under my roof was mine. You’ll pay it back. Or I’ll send you to the family’s detention facility.”

I saw it clearly: the rage of a man who’d lost the bet, desperately trying to take his frustration out on the easiest target he could find.

The game piece that hadn’t broken the way he’d expected.

I’d been stupid enough to think a poor Brooklyn immigrant’s daughter could win the hearts of New York’s most powerful Cosa Nostra dons.

Now I knew every soft word, every gentle touch, had been nothing but an act.

My throat tightened, but I held his gaze, my voice steady.

“Don Luciano. You once promised me anything I wanted, no matter what it was. Does that promise still stand?”

Six months earlier, rival hitmen had ambushed us at an Italian restaurant in Little Italy.

I’d thrown myself in front of him, taken a bullet that grazed my ribcage, which nearly killed me.

He’d sat by my hospital bed for three days straight, swearing before his entire family that I could have anything I wanted.

I’d had a foolish crush on him then.

But I’d learned a harsh truth: a don would never be faithful, and could never give me the one thing I’d craved more than anything.

At my words, Vincent’s jaw tightened, scorn filling his eyes.

“Nick doesn’t want you, and neither do I. Don’t think that old promise means you can cling to me. My only future partner is Seraphina Moretti. No one else is worthy.”

He was certain I’d beg to stay.

Instead, I bowed my head, my voice flat and calm.

“All I ask is to leave this building unharmed. No strings attached.”

I didn’t want anything from him, or from Nick.

I just wanted to walk out that door. That was all.

Vincent froze, staring at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

He’d expected me to throw a fit like I had in my past life.

He’d wanted an excuse to break me, to take out his bitter loss on me.

But he didn’t know I’d already lived this once.

I knew exactly what would happen if I fought back.

I’d ended up dead in a fleabag motel room, pumped full of heroin, written off by everyone as a strung-out junkie.

This time, I wasn’t fighting. I was walking away.

He stared, jaw tight with unspoken irritation, and spat through gritted teeth: “Get out.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I stepped out into the Manhattan snowstorm, Christmas had just passed, the city buried under a blizzard.

The cold bit through my thin dress, but I didn’t stop walking.

The hushed voices of huddled maids drifted over to me.

“Did you hear? Miss Moretti’s only been in New York from Chicago for two weeks, and the Valentino family’s already cleared out every jewelry store on Fifth Avenue for her. Talk about devotion.”

“Wait, weren’t both the dons fawning over that Rossi girl just last week?”

“We all knew that was just a game. She was a toy, a placeholder. Now that Seraphina’s back, they’ve had to end the bet one way or another.”

Everyone had known about the bet.

Everyone but me.

I kept walking, my boots crunching over the thick snow, all the way back to my family’s home in Brooklyn.

Just like I had in my past life, I’d come back to the house I’d grown up in.

I kept my head down, walked straight to the front door, and knocked.

I knocked for a long time. The door never opened.

From inside, I heard the housekeeper’s voice, small and nervous.

“Miss, please go. Mr. Rossi said you’re not welcome here anymore. You’re not allowed in this house.”

My hand froze mid-knock.

It felt like a thousand tiny needles had pierced my chest, the pain spreading all the way to my fingertips.

I slowly lowered my hand, and for the first time since I’d woken up reborn, tears spilled down my cheeks.

In my past life, the second my family found out I’d been cast aside by New York’s two most powerful Cosa Nostra dons, Vincent and Nick, they locked me out.

Terrified of ruining their cushy life by crossing the two men, they shoved me on a Greyhound bound for a dead-end upstate town, left me there to die, and turned a blind eye when the hitmen came for me.

I still remembered my father and grandmother clasping my hands before I’d left for Vincent’s penthouse, promising, “Leah, if they ever hurt you, come home.”

Now I was home, and they wouldn’t even open the door.

I stayed there to sear this betrayal into my soul, and swear to never trust anyone again.

Maybe they heard me crying in the snow.

The door finally swung open.

My father stood there, face cold with rage. “Do you know what trouble you’ve brought us? The dons have turned on us because of you! Why can’t you just die, instead of ruining your siblings?” His words were a knife to the chest.

Behind him, my younger sister stared at me, her eyes bright with malicious glee.

My grandmother took my hand, voice sweet but eyes cold.

“Leah, we’ll send you upstate, tell everyone you ran away. This will all be over.”

My chest went ice cold.

It wasn’t just the dons who wanted me dead.

It was the family I’d spent my life protecting.

In the end, I boarded that Greyhound, my only possession a small silver dagger my mother had left me, my only protection.

Just like last time, I was dropped at an isolated motel, where the owner, paid off by my father, locked me in a back room.

“You really thought you’d get out of this alive? Cross the Luciano and Valentino families, and you’re a dead girl walking. Your family never intended for you to leave this room breathing.”

The exact same words I’d heard a lifetime ago.

I stared at the floor, my fingers curled tight around the dagger hidden in my sleeve.

He stepped toward me, a syringe full of heroin in his hand, reaching for my arm.

I curled my fingers around the dagger, ready to strike, when the door was kicked off its hinges.

But before the blade could connect, a gunshot rang out.

The bullet struck the wall beside us, startling both the motel keeper and me.

A woman stood in the doorway, a gun still raised in her hand.

Then she pointed the gun straight at the motel owner and said.

"Fuck off."

The motel owner recognized her face instantly, and went scrambling to flee in a blind panic.

“I’ve heard your tiramisu is the best in all of New York. Would you be interested in coming to my estate in Chicago, to be my personal pastry chef?”

It was only when I finally made out her face clearly.

Seraphina Moretti.

It was a face burned into my memory from my past life.

I stood there frozen, thrown completely off-kilter by this abrupt turn of events.

She saw me staring, and a flicker of pity crossed her face.

She tugged off her coat and draped it over my shoulders, its warmth wrapping around me and chasing away the bone-deep cold that had settled in my limbs.

Just then, heavy footsteps pounded down the hallway outside.

Nick burst through the door, his eyes wide with worry when he saw Seraphina, his voice sharp with scolding.

“You shouldn’t be here, not in a place like this. Your health is too fragile. You could have just called me.”

Everyone said Nick Valentino was cold, unfeeling, a man who never let anyone get close.

Last lifetime, I’d thought the softness he’d shown me was special, that it was only for me.

But now I saw it clearly: the warmth in his eyes when he looked at Seraphina was real, nothing like the feigned tenderness he’d shown me.

He noticed me staring, and turned.

The warmth vanished when he looked at me, voice cold with warning.

“You’ll come to Chicago with us. You’re lucky to be alive. Don’t reach for what isn’t yours.”

Another sharp twinge hit my chest.

So my love, my loyalty, my life, had been nothing but a crime to him.

I bowed my head, voice flat and calm.

“Thank you for saving me, Miss Moretti. I’ll serve you faithfully, and never reach for anything that isn’t mine.”

I followed Seraphina out to the black Rolls-Royce idling outside.

But before I could climb in, a hand shot out, and wrapped tight around my wrist.

It was Nick.