Blurb：
After her sister’s tragic death, Christine enters a five-year contract marriage with mafia underboss Horton Falcone, becoming stepmother to his vengeful son, Luca. On her birthday, wearing her late sister’s diamond cross necklace unleashes Luca’s fury—red wine thrown in her face, a cake turned funeral, and a chilling vow: I’ll dump you in the Hudson River. Five years of devotion to the Falcone family yield only betrayal. Now, with the contract ending, Christine seeks freedom from Horton’s cold embrace and Luca’s hatred. But when she leaves, the Falcone men crawl back, begging forgiveness. Dive into a tale of dark secrets, blood debts, and a woman’s reclaiming of her life.
Content：
After my sister’s death, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, Horton Falcone.
I became the stepmother to my five-year-old nephew, Luca.
On my birthday, I wore my late sister’s diamond cross necklace, not realizing what it was.
At the family dinner, Luca walked up to me with a glass of red wine and threw the wine in my face.
The red wine dripped down my cheeks, its sharp scent stinging my eyes and staining my white dress.
He tilted his head back to look up at me, his eyes as cold and cruel as his father’s.
Don’t think you can replace my mom just because you married into the Falcone family, he said with a malicious grin. You’re the reason she’s dead.
I wish you were the one who died. Then I could smash your gravestone instead of celebrating this stupid birthday.
I swear, when I grow up, the first thing I’ll do is dump you in the Hudson River myself!
The memory stung as sharply as the wine, and all I could taste was despair.
I stared at the child I had spent five years raising as my own, a sharp pain pulsing in my chest.
I had thought I could devote myself to the Falcone family, that I could win him over with my love.
But now, I was just so tired of it all.
It was a family with no love, a child who saw me as his mortal enemy.
I stopped deluding myself. It was time to let go.
But after I left, that arrogant father and son came crawling back to me like whipped dogs, begging for my forgiveness.
Chapter 1
After my sister died, I signed a five-year contract marriage with her mafia husband, paying my family’s blood debt in her place.
I poured five years of my life into the Falcone family, and all I got was a husband who only wanted me for his bed and a child who saw me as his enemy. It was time to let go.
Christine, are you certain you want to leave the family?
Don Corrado asked me in his private study, his commanding voice echoing off the walnut-paneled walls.
There’s still a week left on the contract.
I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the blood-red rose garden in the estate, my voice quiet and flat. Five years was long enough, Don. I’ve fulfilled my obligations.
I owe the Falcones nothing.
This marriage was my penance.
My father’s fatal mistake had created a debt of blood between our families, a debt that would be paid in full by these five years of marriage.
For five years, I had been the perfect underboss’s wife and a capable mother, dedicating my life to Horton and his son with nothing to show for it.
But at least the contract was almost over. I was finally going to be free.
Before the Don could speak, a sharp crack echoed from the garden, followed by the sound of a windowpane shattering.
Shards of glass sprayed inward, slicing into my arm. I pressed a hand to the wound as warm blood seeped through my fingers.
I turned to look at the garden. Luca was standing there, gripping a small golf club.
He struck a pose like a little man, his delicate features twisted with a venom that was chilling in a boy his age.
Crying to Grandpa again? I guess you didn’t get the message last time. Maybe I should shut you up for good and send you to Hell to join my mom!
I stared at him in disbelief, the humiliating scene from my birthday party flashing through my mind.
It was my twenty-fifth birthday.
Ever since I arrived at the Falcone estate, I had never truly celebrated a birthday of my own.
This time, I had quietly ordered a small cake for myself and even dressed up a little.
My neck felt bare, so I casually picked a necklace from the vanity, forgetting it was the one my sister had loved most.
When Luca saw it, he was completely enraged.
He walked over to the birthday cake and blew out all the candles. Then he pulled several black roses from a vase and stuck them into the cake, one by one.
He had turned my birthday into a mock funeral.
He stepped back, admiring his creation with satisfaction.
You think you deserve to be celebrated? My mom would still be here if it weren’t for you, you’re a curse! Remember this: from now on, this isn’t your birthday. It’s your death anniversary.
Then, under the stunned gazes of all the family members, he grabbed a bottle of champagne from the table and poured the cold liquid over my head, utterly destroying my last shred of dignity.
Unexpectedly, I didn’t cry. I just quietly left and went to my small bedroom.
I felt unnaturally calm, perhaps because I had no expectations left to be shattered.
But Luca followed me, my silence making him even more brazen.
What, you’re upset now? Pathetic, he cursed, his tone a perfect imitation of a seasoned gangster. When I grow up and take over the family, the first thing I’ll do is have you thrown out to feed the fishes!
I couldn’t understand where the child I’d spent five years raising had learned such vile language.
Now, I didn’t want to care anymore. I had truly had enough.
You won’t have to, I told him softly. I’m leaving tomorrow.
Then I went to the study to tend to my wound. As I was bandaging it, I heard something shatter upstairs.
A chill shot up my spine.
I rushed upstairs to find the antique fountain pen I cherished snapped in two, its deep blue ink splattered like blood across my precious manuscript, devouring the words.
That pen was the only thing my mother had left me.
I knelt on the floor, carefully gathering the fragments of the pen and the ink-ruined pages.
I didn’t cry when the women of the family deliberately ignored and humiliated me at parties.
I didn’t cry when Horton only remembered I existed when he wanted to use my body, treating me like a cheap substitute for my sister, Seraphina.
I didn’t even cry when the family elders openly discussed what to do with me after the contract expired, talking as if I were a piece of furniture to be discarded.
But now, seeing the broken pen my mother had left me…
My composure completely crumbled.
Hot, desperate tears finally streamed down my face.
That pen was the last memento from the only person in the world who had ever truly loved me.
Luca stood in the doorway, watching my pain as if it were a work of art. A cruel, satisfied grin spread across his face.
Hurts, doesn’t it? To have the one thing you care about destroyed? This is for my mom. Now I’m going to destroy everything you love, one by one. Murderer!
In that instant, I finally snapped.
I shot to my feet, grabbed his arm, and yanked him in front of me. Pick up every single piece and put it back together for me! Now!
He must have never seen me so unhinged, because Luca just froze. But before he could speak, a powerful hand suddenly clamped around my throat, slamming me against the wall.
Are you fucking insane? Horton’s eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me, his hand gripping my chin. You dare touch the heir to this family over a broken pen and some scrap paper?
I was pressed against the cold wall, forced to look up at the man I once thought would protect me.
To him, it was just cheap trash. But to me, it was the most precious thing in the world.
Chapter 2
More than a decade ago, our Rossi family was caught in a bloody turf war.
My mother died protecting me, shielding me with her body from a bullet fired by a rival family. The .45 caliber round went straight through her heart.
I lost her that day.
A few years later, when I was fifteen, my father incurred a blood debt to the Falcone family over a failed drug deal, one he could never repay.
Don Corrado approached my sister and me with an offer: a contract to repay our family’s sins with our youth. It was our only chance to avoid being dumped in the Hudson River.
And so, we were sent here, reduced to bargaining chips.
Horton must have realized he’d gone too far. He shoved Luca out of the room and locked the door from the outside.
He stalked back to me, roughly pulled me away from the wall, and threw me onto the bed. He used his thumb to crudely wipe the tears from my face.
I thought you knew the rules, he said coldly, loosening his tie. You don’t lose your temper with the future Don. You owe Luca an apology.
He leaned over me, his body pressing down, and started tearing at the buttons of my shirt.
Then he pulled a check from his suit’s inner pocket and slapped it on the nightstand.
It’s your birthday. Here’s your payment. Consider it compensation for your… performance over the years.
His voice dripped with contempt. He reached for my chin to force me to look at the check, while his other hand began to wander.
I shoved him away and scrambled off the bed.
Horton, I said, my voice terrifyingly calm, the contract is almost over. I’ll be leaving soon.
You think you can threaten me?
Luca lost his mother, and you’re holding a grudge against a child? Horton’s face twisted with rage.
He’s just a boy, but what about you? You’re a grown woman. Why can’t you be a real mother and show some compassion? He’ll learn the rules when he’s older.
I have business to deal with. Stop bothering me with this petty drama. I don’t have time to coddle you.
I wanted to tell him I had never needed him to solve my problems.
I only wished for the respect I was due. I never dared to hope for anything more.
But to Horton, every word I said seemed like a challenge to his authority. His gaze turned dangerous and icy, all warmth vanishing.
I have real family business to attend to, he growled, striding towards the door and slamming it shut behind him. You’re not to leave this room tonight.
With a click, the door was locked from the outside.
I was locked in my own room, treated worse than a prisoner.
I had lost count of how many times he had humiliated me like this. I was just a convenient outlet for his frustrations, less than air to him unless he had a use for me.
Raindrops tapped against the windowpane. I sat on the floor, spending the entire night trying to piece the antique fountain pen back together.
Of course, it was impossible. The broken metal could never truly be mended. But I tried again and again, with nothing but a cheap tube of super glue and desperate obsession.
Every tiny fragment sliced my fingertips like a razor.
Blood dripped onto the manuscript, mixing with the ink to form dark red stains.
I glued it piece by piece, as if I could mend my own shattered heart along with it.
When the first ray of sunlight streamed through the blinds, I heard footsteps.
The lock on the door turned. A man in a black suit stood in the doorway, his eyes as cold and hard as stone.
The Don wants to see you, he said flatly. Immediately.
I threw on a coat and followed him. These were the family rules. When the Don summons you, you go.
The scent of cigar smoke hung in the air when I entered Don Corrado’s private study. He sat behind a massive walnut desk, his fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop.
When he saw me, a flicker of disappointment crossed his deep-set eyes.
I know what happened last night. Luca has Falcone blood: proud and uncompromising. But you have been a mother to him for five years, Christine. The bond between you goes beyond the contract. He remembers your kindness. Give him time. He will come to understand the meaning of famiglia.
Then his eyes, which had seen decades of bloodshed, locked onto mine. Are you truly prepared to tear up the Rossi family’s blood oath and all these years of sacrifice?
His words hit my chest like a physical blow.
But if a family has no love or respect left, can it still be called famiglia?
My mind drifted uncontrollably to my late sister, Seraphina.
I knew that Seraphina and Horton had been considered a perfect match since childhood.
They shared the same cold intelligence, the same hunger for power. They had fought side by side in this brutal underworld since they were young, and they forged a deep bond.
My sister had always been the dazzling, brilliant daughter of a mafia family, while I was always in her shadow. Few people even remembered the Rossi family had a younger daughter.
So, my feelings for Horton had to be buried deep.
Although our father had never wanted us to marry back into the bloody mafia world, fate had other plans. The moment the Rossi family fell, my sister and I became bargaining chips.
Then, five years ago, Seraphina died from a hereditary illness. She chose to suffer alone, refusing to let anyone see her weakness, and made me swear to keep her secret.
Horton changed after that. It was as if he had lost half his soul. He brought home woman after woman who bore some resemblance to Seraphina, losing himself in nights of debauchery.
He couldn’t even look at his own son, because every expression on Luca’s face was a reminder of his loss.
Don Corrado was deeply worried. He couldn’t let the family heir grow into a cold-blooded monster in an environment devoid of motherly love.
But he couldn’t trust just any outsider with such a heavy responsibility.
He worried an outsider with ulterior motives would use the child to gain power within the family. So he turned to me. Marry Horton, become Luca’s mother, and secure the family’s future.
Chapter 3
For five years, I poured my heart into managing the Falcone estate and raising Luca into the sharp young prince everyone in the underworld already whispered he would become.
I was a living reminder of his wife, the one person keeping the soul of this family from shattering completely.
But no matter what I did, I never received even a shred of their recognition.
To Horton, I was just a tool he remembered only for his physical needs. In bed, he always kept his eyes closed, unwilling to even glance at me.
Seraphina… he would whisper at his climax. Always her name.
And Luca, from the very first day, saw me as the murderer who killed his mother.
Why don’t you just die? he once asked me when he was five. If you died, would Mom be able to come back?
How could a hell like this be called a home?
Don Corrado finally gave up. He motioned for his lawyer to hand me the termination agreement, his voice old and weary. Once you sign this, there’s no turning back.
Without hesitation, I signed my name on the document.
The sun was setting when I drove back to the estate that evening. I pressed the remote for the main gate, but the display flashed: ACCESS DENIED.
I rang the intercom, but there was no response.
A guard appeared, his tone respectful but firm. Apologies, ma’am, but we have important guests tonight. Only core family members are permitted inside.
I knew this was Horton’s way of punishing me for my incompetence today, for not returning to the estate to prepare Luca’s dinner. Since he was a child, Luca had the picky palate of a family heir, eating only specific ingredients prepared in a certain way.
That was why I had learned traditional Sicilian cuisine, mastering every classic recipe served at the Falcone family table.
I remembered how he used to hug my leg, pleading in his small voice:
Christine, your meatballs are the best in the whole world. I want you to stay here with me forever.
But somewhere along the way, everything had changed. Now, all he wanted was to make me disappear from this world in the cruelest way possible.
A biting wind cut across my face like a razor. The New York night was freezing, and the thin cashmere I wore was no defense against the December cold.
Within minutes, I was shivering uncontrollably. I had nowhere to go for warmth, forced to stand outside the iron gates of the estate like an abandoned beggar.
Through the heavy iron bars, I could see the warm, spring-like light of the living room.
A woman in a designer evening gown descended the spiral staircase, moving as if she owned the place as she approached Luca.
When she saw me freezing outside the gate, a cold, triumphant smirk crossed her lips.
I recognized her. Millie. A bombshell poached from a high-end Manhattan strip club, with hair like spun gold and eyes the color of a turquoise sea.
Her features were a startling echo of Seraphina, even more so than mine. She was the most convincing of the nineteen replacements Horton had brought home.
Oh, look who it is. I’m so sorry, darling, but Horton is spending the night with me. Looks like you’ll have to enjoy the fresh air.
Then she turned to Luca, a perfect smile on her face.
Come on, my little prince. Dinner is served, and your papa is waiting for us in the dining room.
Great! I love eating with Millie! Luca jumped up, taking her hand. You’re a thousand times better than that murderer! At least you didn’t kill my mom!
I watched them disappear behind the grand door, the warm scene a bullet through my chest.
The child I had raised, the boy whose life I had shaped for five years, saw none of it.
Instead, he clung loyally to a woman Horton had brought in from the outside, simply because she had the same blonde hair and blue eyes as Seraphina.
And because she offered a permissive, fawning style of parenting that let him do whatever he wanted.
It was too late to call a cab now, and the deep winter night in New York was brutally cold. I huddled in a corner outside the gates like a stray dog, the piercing wind tearing at my skin.
Just as I thought I might freeze to death right there, my phone rang. The butler’s voice was cold through the receiver.
Mrs. Falcone, the Boss says you may come in now. Please use the servants’ entrance.
My body was numb with cold, but I forced myself to stand and stagger toward the side door.
At this point, survival mattered more than pride.
Walking through the corridor, which was as cold as a morgue, I saw them: Horton, Luca, and Millie, seated in a perfect triangle on the Persian rug before the fire.
The orange glow of the fire danced on their faces, as warm as an oil painting.
Luca was on Millie’s lap, scooping tiramisu with a small silver spoon.
Open up, little prince, Millie said softly, her voice sickeningly sweet.
Luca obediently opened his mouth, then closed his eyes in satisfaction.
Millie’s dessert is the best in the world!
Horton watched them, a gentle smile on his lips I had never seen before.
This was what a family was supposed to look like. Warm, harmonious, and full of love. It was a pity none of it had ever been for me.
I stood in the shadows like an intruder, watching this heartwarming play unfold.
Chapter 4
I had intended to go straight upstairs, but Horton looked up and saw me. His smile vanished.
You’re finally back. Luca waited two hours for his late-night snack.
I made him some little cookies and warm milk, Millie interjected innocently. He said he liked them a lot.
I glanced at the exquisite little treats on the coffee table, each one up to the standard of a five-star hotel.
I stopped, turning wearily. My voice was lifeless. It seems you’ve already handled it. I can give my recipes to Millie. You’ll have a replacement after I’m gone.
Horton slammed his glass down on the marble tabletop, the sharp sound slicing through the air.
Christine. It seems I’ve been too lenient with you. Have you forgotten your place? He rose from the sofa, his fingers clamping around my wrist like a vise, squeezing until I thought the bone would splinter.
Did you really think I wouldn’t dare to shut you up for good?
I knew he would. He had never had an ounce of affection for me. Not a single drop.
The only reason he hadn’t disposed of me yet was likely that damn contract and his son. He needed to play the part of a devoted husband for the outside world.
I forced myself to remain calm, looking him straight in the eye. Why don’t you ask your precious son what he wants?
Just then, Luca’s voice piped up from the sofa.
Dad, I’ve wanted you to get rid of this woman for ages! I hate her! I like Millie more. She’s a million times better than the murderer who killed my mom!
Millie put a theatrical hand to his mouth. Goodness, Luca, you shouldn’t say such things…
Let him speak, I said, looking at Horton. Since you and Luca both like Millie so much, why not make her the new Mrs. Falcone? The timing is perfect. Our contract is over.
Horton’s brow furrowed into a deep knot. He ordered the butler to take Luca back to his room.
Who do you think you’re talking to? Are you that eager to push me onto another woman?
I looked at him, genuinely confused. What on earth did he mean by that? Five years after Seraphina’s death, he had finally found a perfect replica, one so similar it was breathtaking. Shouldn’t he be ecstatic?
Horton’s face grew darker. He pulled Millie directly in front of him.
You want me to marry her? His voice was low, but it sent a chill down my spine. Then as you wish.
He pulled a small velvet box from his suit pocket. Inside was the ruby ring of the Falcone matriarch. He shoved it onto Millie’s finger, right in front of me.
I had tried on that ring in front of the mirror countless times, imagining the day I might truly own it.
But I never expected the first time I would see it up close would be on another woman’s hand.
I watched as Horton swept a tearfully joyous Millie into his arms and strode like a conqueror toward the master bedroom.
And for all the times he’d used my body to vent his frustrations, he had never once allowed me into the master bedroom.
The door slammed shut, and soon, raw, carnal sounds echoed from within.
My heart turned to ash in my chest.
I thought I had never come to this family for love, only to repay the Rossi family’s blood debt. But watching this scene unfold, my eyes still stung uncontrollably.
So be it. I had never dared to hope for anything more anyway. I should be happy for him. He had finally found a perfect replica who looked more like Seraphina than I did.
He had to be satisfied. After all, Millie’s skills in bed were probably far better than mine.
I glanced at my watch. The car I had booked was arriving soon.
I quietly placed the signed termination agreement on the coffee table, picked up my already packed suitcase, and walked toward the front door.
But just as I reached the foyer, Luca blocked my path like a little demon.
He kicked my suitcase, sending it flying.
What, a few harsh words scared you off? His voice was laced with the cruelty unique to the Falcone bloodline.
You think this pathetic little trick will get my dad’s attention? You think he’s going to chase after you and beg you to come back like in some stupid movie? You’re utterly pathetic.
I said nothing. I just silently knelt down to pick up my scattered belongings.
Among them, a pale blue cashmere sweater lay quietly on the rug.
It was the one my sister, Seraphina, had knitted for Luca with her own hands before she died.
She had spent three whole months on it, stitch by stitch.
When Luca gets a little older, he’s going to love this sweater, she had once told me.
He had never worn it in all these years. I thought he didn’t care about it, and since my sister had left so few things behind, I decided to take it with me as a memento.
I never imagined the sight of that sweater would make him freeze.
His face turned deathly pale, then flushed a deep crimson.
You bitch! What right do you have to take my mother’s things! he screamed. A raw nerve had been struck. He lunged at me from behind.
With all the strength his small body could muster, Luca shoved me hard from behind. Caught completely off guard, I lost my balance and stumbled forward.
And right in my path was the massive stone fireplace, its sharp corner waiting for me like a blade.
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