Reborn to Ruin the Don

I woke clawing at my chest. My nightgown was damp with sweat; there were no bullet holes, no blood soaking through the cloth. I pressed a hand to my ribs until the pounding eased. At the end of my previous life, Dante had looked straight at me, then turned to shield her. Mia. His fragile, widowed sister-in-law. The bedroom door creaked open. Dante filled the doorway, the hallway light behind him. For one foolish second, I thought he had heard me and come to check. “Aria, keep it down.” He glanced toward the room next door. “You’ll wake Mia. She needs her rest.” I watched him pass my bed and pick up the silver teapot I used for my morning Earl Grey. “Mia’s pregnancy is making her sensitive to strong smells.” He kept his attention on the teapot. “From now on, the entire manor will only serve chamomile. It’s better for her.” Even my morning tea now had to suit Mia. I said nothing. Last time, I had screamed and asked why my life had to shrink around hers. I had no reason to repeat myself. My silence pleased him. His shoulders eased before he turned away. Before he left, he set an encrypted satellite phone in its usual spot on my nightstand. For years, every legal or financial alarm in the family had come through that phone. Dante made no major move until I had analyzed it. He still wanted my strategy. In my past life, I had treated the phone as proof that he valued me. Now it looked like work he had left beside the bed. “The council is pushing back on the port logistics.” He tapped the phone. “Look over the preliminary reports before breakfast. I want a strategy.” He walked out. Downstairs, someone was already steeping Mia’s chamomile. I had no tears left for him. I stared at the encrypted phone for a long moment before swinging my legs out of bed. The cool wood of the floor felt solid, real. I let him go. Then I crossed to my desk and opened my laptop. One file had been sitting there untouched for five years. *APPLICATION_FELLOWSHIP_CAPITOLIUM_MEDICAL_UNIVERSITY.pdf* A senior research position. I had abandoned it when I married Dante. I updated my resume and listed the patents and procedures registered under my maiden name, Aria Vance. Dante had never asked about them. I attached the files and filled in the final details. My cursor stopped over the ‘Submit’ button for less than a second. *Click.* The application uploaded. An automated reply promised a decision within a week. One week. Dante slept in the next room. I closed the laptop and started packing my research notes.