Too Late For The Mafia King's Regret

On our seventh anniversary, the Capo dei Capi lit up the New York skyline with drones spelling my name, swearing on his life that I was his only Queen.

Moments later, he abandoned me on the dock to rush to his mistress—my own sister, Sophia.

Sophia sent me a photo of him kissing her belly with the caption: "He finally has a real woman. It's a boy."

Lucien wanted an heir above all else. I was just the placeholder; she was the vessel.

I didn't scream. I didn't confront him.

I simply initiated Ghost Protocol.