As the flames engulfed my body in the underground warehouse, I used the last of my strength to call my brother, the new Don of the Moretti family.

Just as I was about to draw my last breath, Lorenzo finally answered, his voice as cold as the Sicilian winter wind.

"Isabella, what the hell are you up to now?"

"Brother, save me…"

My voice was barely a whisper, but he cut me off without a hint of mercy.

"Can't you go one day without causing trouble?"

"Liliana's debutante dinner is next week. If you don't show up, I'll drag you back here myself."

He hung up without a second thought, completely oblivious to the desperation in my voice.

Despair mingled with the searing agony that wracked my body as the flames danced higher, and I couldn't hold on any longer.

As I closed my eyes, tears still trickled from their corners.

You won't have to drag me back, my brother. I'm never coming back.

As the flames engulfed my body in the underground warehouse, I used the last of my strength to call my brother, the new Don of the Moretti family.

Just as I was about to draw my last breath, Lorenzo finally answered, his voice as cold as the Sicilian winter wind.

"Isabella, what the hell are you up to now?"

"Brother, save me…"

My voice was barely a whisper, but he cut me off without a hint of mercy.

"Can't you go one day without causing trouble?"

"Liliana's debutante dinner is next week. If you don't show up, I'll drag you back here myself."

He hung up without a second thought, completely oblivious to the desperation in my voice.

Despair mingled with the searing agony that wracked my body as the flames danced higher, and I couldn't hold on any longer.

As I closed my eyes, tears still trickled from their corners.

You won't have to drag me back, my brother. I'm never coming back.

...

After I died, my consciousness didn't fade. Instead, it was trapped in a dark space.

A sudden flood of light was the first sign that I was imprisoned within the ring bearing the Moretti family crest.

The one I had designed myself, a gift to celebrate his succession as Don.

He had worn it ever since, never taking it off.

Through the ring, I watched as my charred remains were discovered in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of our territory.

The brutal, horrific murder by fire shocked the entire underworld and was a blatant challenge to the authority of the new Don, Lorenzo.

My brother decided to handle the matter personally, vowing to make an example of whoever was eyeing the Moretti family's power.

Seeing him stand before my blackened, unrecognizable corpse, I felt a surge of guilt.

It was my fault he was saddled with this, forced to handle such a grim affair himself.

Lorenzo's brow was furrowed, his eyes murderous.

"Has the victim been identified? Time of death?" he asked in a cold voice.

Marco, the capo in charge of the investigation, rubbed his temples wearily.

"According to the M.E.'s preliminary report, the victim is a young woman, approximately twenty to twenty-two years old. Time of death was over forty-eight hours ago."

"The body's been completely burned beyond recognition. Even dental records might not help us. The DNA results won't be back for at least two days."

Marco paused, his voice growing heavy. "And, Don, the victim was doused with gasoline and set ablaze while she was still alive. "

"Furthermore… there are severe lacerations to her genital area, indicating she suffered devastating sexual assault prior to this."

A collective gasp went through the family members present.

Even in this bloody world, such brutality was appalling.

"Goddamn animal," someone cursed under their breath.

"I can't imagine the pain that poor girl went through," another voice murmured, full of sympathy.

Lorenzo slammed a fist on the table, the murderous intent flaring in his eyes. "I don't care who did this, I'll make them pay in blood."

"I'm making it clear that no one gets away with shit like this on Moretti turf."

Silvio placed a hand on Lorenzo's shoulder, his tone tinged with regret. "This means you'll miss Isabella's birthday party."

Lorenzo grunted. "Such a headache."

Silvio was the family's Consigliere and our father's most trusted confidant before his death.

After our parents were killed in that ambush, he watched over us like a guardian, guiding Lorenzo on how to survive in the bloody game of power.

At the mention of my name, Lorenzo's expression darkened instantly. "Don't mention that traitor in front of me."

"She does nothing but cause trouble for the family."

"Why would I go to her damn birthday party? I need to prepare for Liliana's debutante dinner."

His words pierced my heart like daggers, and what little guilt I had left vanished in an instant.

After our parents' deaths, Lorenzo blamed me for everything, convinced my recklessness had gotten them killed.

Later, during an operation, he saved a girl named Liliana, and after learning she was an orphan, he brought her home, doting on her like a real sister.

And I became a complete outcast in my own family.

Before I died, my brother was still angry.

Angry that my willfulness might cast a shadow over his precious adopted sister's big night.

If he knew the body lying there was mine, he would turn and walk away without a second thought.

After all, no one in this world wanted me dead more than he did.

I'm really dead now, brother. Are you satisfied?

Silvio punched Lorenzo lightly on the chest, his voice laced with anger. "How can you talk like that? Don't you know how loyal Isabella is to you?"

"After all these years, can't you see how much she cares about you, her own brother?"

"She knows you've loved cannoli since you were a kid, so she still makes them for you by hand and sneaks them over. You ungrateful bastard!"

Lorenzo just scoffed. "I don't need her cheap attempts to get back in my good graces. Silvio, drop it. Let's focus on the matter at hand."

"By the way, have any of the other families reported someone missing recently?"

His subordinate, Tony, shook his head. "No, Don. We haven't received any reports like that."

"Damn it. The girl's been missing this long and her family hasn't even noticed? What kind of family are they?" Lorenzo complained impatiently.

When lunchtime came, Lorenzo went out to eat with some other family members.

Silvio suddenly remembered something. "How come I haven't seen Isabella bring you any cannoli these past few days?"

Lorenzo sneered. "She's probably tired of the act. It's her usual game."

"I told you from the start she wouldn't keep it up for long."

Seeing Lorenzo's attitude, Silvio's anger flared.

"Impossible! For years, she's never missed a day, not even when there were shootouts in the streets."

"Something's not right. She could be in real trouble. Call her, now. See if she answers."

Lorenzo's face was grim, and he clearly didn't want to talk about it. "Silvio, stop worrying about her. It's all just a game she's playing."

"She called me a couple of days ago, probably trying to pull some other stunt. I told her to be at Liliana's debutante dinner, and she hung up on me. She's clearly just throwing a tantrum."

Silvio was about to say more, but Lorenzo's phone rang.

When he saw the caller ID, the hard, chiseled lines of his face softened instantly, and his voice became gentler than I had ever heard it.

"My little angel, what is it? Do you miss me?"

I heard a sweet voice from the other end. I didn't need to guess to know it was Liliana.

"I'm fine, just haven't been sleeping well. The family's dealing with some trouble. Don't worry about it."

At the sound of her concerned voice, Lorenzo's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"My angel, you just wait for me at home. I'll be back to see you as soon as I've cleaned up this mess… Yes, I know. I'll be careful."

Lorenzo cooed at Liliana, but then his tone suddenly changed in response to something she said.

"Don't you worry, I'll make Isabella admit, in her own words, that she plagiarized your work for that design degree. If she won't, I'll make her admit it on her knees."

"I'll make her apologize for her insolence."

"Alright, baby, don't be sad. Wait for me at the estate. It's not safe on the streets right now. If you go out, remember to take a bodyguard and let me know."

Listening to my brother's deep, magnetic voice comforting her, I felt a pain like a knife twisting in my heart.

I raised a hand to wipe away my tears, only to grasp at empty air. I was dead. I had no form.

The brother who once would have burned down half of Chicago for me, who would have laid the entire underworld at my feet.

Now, he didn't even see me.

We shared the same Moretti blood, yet he refused to believe his own sister, preferring to trust an outsider with a mysterious past.

She stole my designs! Why won't you believe me?

"By the way, brother, you absolutely have to come to my celebration on Sunday night. I have a very special surprise for you."

Liliana's sickly sweet voice continued through the phone.

Alarm bells screamed in my mind. I reached out, trying desperately to shake my brother's arm, screaming the words in my soul.

"Don't go, Lorenzo! Liliana… she's going to kill you!"

But it was obvious Lorenzo couldn't feel my presence at all.

He just smiled fondly. "Don't worry, I'll clean up this mess as fast as I can, then I'll come home to you."

After hanging up, Lorenzo saw Silvio still frowning in thought.

He clapped the old consigliere on the shoulder. "Alright, Silvio. I'm going to check the body again, see if I missed any rival family markings. There has to be a clue. Stop worrying."

Silvio grabbed his wrist. "Wait. I just called Isabella, but she didn't answer. You try. She'll definitely pick up for you."

Lorenzo impatiently shook his hand off. "I don't have time for that.

The family's business is already a headache. I don't have time for her childish games."

Unable to persuade him, Silvio could only shake his head and sigh.

Lorenzo strode into the family's private mortuary, once again coming face to face with my corpse.

He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, then pulled on a pair of latex gloves and began methodically examining my charred remains for any gang tattoos or identification marks.

As he examined what remained of my left hand, his fingers traced over the charred bones.

Suddenly, he froze.

My non-existent heart hammered with a frantic hope.

That's my brother. Was he finally going to recognize me?

That slightly crooked little finger. Twelve years ago, when our father was being hunted by a rival family, we were on the run.

I broke it in a street fight to protect him from being bullied by some Calabrese punk.

Lorenzo, who was only fifteen at the time, was sick with regret.

He wrapped my wound with his own white handkerchief and carried me all the way back to the family compound.

That night, he held me as I cried, apologizing over and over again.

Though the finger healed, it was left with a subtle curve that only the people closest to me would ever notice.

I was sure that if he felt this small secret we shared, he would recognize me.

But just at that crucial moment, his second-in-command, Vince, rushed in.

"Don, the Torrino family is making a move at the east-side port. They might be coming after our business."

Vince was nervous and anxious, his forehead beaded with sweat.

Lorenzo's attention was instantly diverted. He glanced at my wrist with annoyance, then roughly dropped my hand.

And just like that, the moment was lost. Our only chance.

"Damn it! They're trying to stir up trouble while we're distracted!" He glanced quickly at his watch. "Get the men together. Let's go pay them a visit."

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps came from outside.

Lorenzo stepped out of the mortuary to see a young soldier running towards him, looking thrilled.

"Don, my sister's home safe!" the soldier exclaimed, his eyes shining with tears of relief. "Thank you for helping me find her!"

I remembered the soldier. He was one of Lorenzo's closest men, and he'd been distracted and on the verge of tears for days.

Lorenzo had asked him what was wrong and learned that his sister, who was studying out of state, had been out of contact for a day. The soldier was worried sick.

So Lorenzo had sent men to help him search. "I understand," he'd said at the time. "If it were my sister, I'd be worried to death, too."

Hearing those words again, I felt a pang of sadness, but more than that, confusion.

My brother, who could mobilize the family's resources to help a subordinate find a sister who'd been out of contact for a day.

I had been missing for four days, yet he was still calling me willful and childish.

It was laughable.

Why wasn't he worried about me? Or was I simply not worthy of his concern?

It didn't matter. I was trapped in this ring. No one could see my despair anyway.

The brother whose eyes and heart were once filled with only me was gone forever.

After the soldier left, a dead silence fell over the mortuary.

Only Lorenzo and my charred body remained, the atmosphere suffocatingly heavy.

Two days later, there was still no progress on the case.

The old guard of the family began to whisper behind Lorenzo's back, questioning the new Don's competence.

"The new Don can't even find one killer. Makes you wonder if he's fit for the job."

"All of Chicago is laughing at us!"

A murder this brutal on Moretti turf, with the killer still at large, was a direct challenge to Lorenzo's authority as the new Don.

Silvio, looking completely distracted, walked up to Lorenzo with a worried expression.

"Don, I still feel like something is wrong. It's not normal for Isabella to be out of touch for so many days."

Lorenzo, already at his wit's end over the lack of a breakthrough in the case, grew even more disgusted at the mention of my name.

He took all his frustration out on me.

"Silvio, I told you, she's fine! How am I supposed to find time to deal with that traitor?"

"You should be spending your energy on the burned body in the morgue."

"I'm busy. I need to help Liliana with her dinner preparations. I won't miss her big night."

Silvio's own anger flared, and he didn't spare Lorenzo's feelings. "Lorenzo Moretti, don't be so stubborn. Isabella could be in real trouble. If you won't do anything, I'll handle it myself."

Lorenzo shot to his feet and grabbed Silvio by the collar. "Do whatever you want. I'm not dealing with her. It would be better if she disappeared forever and stopped embarrassing the Moretti name."

Silvio, shaking with rage, cursed at his back. "How did I raise such a cold-blooded bastard?"

Watching through the ring as Silvio defended me, I felt a warmth spread through my soul.

The old consigliere had watched me grow up; he knew my character better than anyone.

But my dear brother, when will you finally believe that something has really happened to me?

Just as Lorenzo walked out of the meeting room, his phone rang.

"Don Moretti, this is Giuseppe from Valentino Jewelers. The custom jewelry pieces that Miss Isabella commissioned are ready, but she's three days past her scheduled pickup time. We can't reach her, so I was wondering if you…"

Before Giuseppe could finish, Lorenzo cut him off impatiently.

"How the hell should I know where she's run off to?"

"I'm busy right now, don't bother me. I'm not cleaning up her messes!"

With that, he hung up forcefully.

Lorenzo's face was a mask of fury.

He must have thought I was good for nothing but causing trouble.

He took out his phone and shot me a vicious text: "Isabella, stop playing these childish games! Get home now, or you'll face the consequences!"

Seeing his threatening message, my soul went cold.

My dearest brother, I'm not playing games.

I've been lying in your morgue for four days.

When will you realize that body is me? When will you listen to Silvio's advice?

Just then, Liliana walked in carrying an elegant meal box, a sweet smile on her face.

The ice in Lorenzo's eyes melted instantly, and he greeted her with a smile as warm as a spring breeze.

"Brother, you forgot to eat again," she said gently. "I made you your favorite lasagna."

Lorenzo stroked her cheek. "My little angel is always so thoughtful, unlike that ungrateful sister of mine who only knows how to cause trouble."

Liliana set down the food tray, and then tears suddenly welled in her eyes.

Lorenzo immediately grew tense. "What is it? Who dared to bully you?"

Liliana bit her lip, looking as if she had been deeply wronged. "I ran into Isabella on the road just now. I tried to say hello, but she suddenly pushed me and threw this at me."

"It's the Moretti family signet ring for women," Liliana cried. "Isabella even tried to throw it into the fireplace right in front of me."

"She screamed that she wanted to sever all her ties with the family, that she hated the Moretti name."

From her small purse, she took out a velvet pouch and poured out a melted, unrecognizable lump of gold and a few shattered gemstones.

Lorenzo looked down and saw a red, swollen scrape on Liliana's knee.

He snarled, his eyes fixed on Silvio. "See? That girl has no respect for this family, or for Liliana."

When Silvio saw the metallic remains, his face changed. He snatched them away. "You're saying Isabella threw this at you just now?"

Liliana nodded like a frightened doe and hid behind Lorenzo.

"See, Silvio? I told you Isabella was fine. Now she's even daring to hurt Liliana. This time, I'm going to teach her a lesson myself."

But Silvio shook his head, his expression grim. "Impossible! This is the heirloom ring for the women of our family, the only thing your mother left for Isabella. She treasured it like her own life. She would never ruin it like this."

He looked at Liliana, his voice low and deliberate. "Do not lie to us."

Lorenzo stepped in front of Liliana protectively. "That's enough, Silvio! Why won't you believe Liliana?"

Gritting his teeth in fury, he pulled out his phone, dialed my number, and put it on speaker. "Fine! I'll let you hear Isabella admit it herself!"

The ringing echoed through the office.

One ring, two rings, three…

To my surprise, the call connected.

Lorenzo immediately roared into the phone, "Isabella Moretti! You get your ass back here now! You dare lay a hand on Liliana, you can cool your heels in the wine cellar!"

A moment of silence crackled on the line, then an unfamiliar man's voice answered. "Don Moretti? This phone was found at the warehouse ruins."

"Right next to the body."

Lorenzo's fingers went slack, and the phone fell from his hand.