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.