HIS MAFIA PRINCESS

PAIN – a white-hot spear. It gushed through my body, pinning me, grinding me into the mattress. Why can't I move? My lungs burned, air ragged and thin. I forced my eyelids open, expecting the cold, sterile ceiling of the morgue, or perhaps the eternal void. Instead, a grotesque landscape of saccharine pink bloomed above me. A Hello Kitty mural. Its saccharine smile was a fresh wound, a mockery of my supposed death. Wasn't I dead? Didn't HE kill me? The memory was a shard of ice: the glint of the blade, the shocking cold that spread through my chest, his face contorted in a sneer. That wasn't a dream. That was the end. Suddenly, a bubblegum-pop beat vibrated through the room. A Barbie song. Aggressively bright. I craned my neck, every muscle screaming protest, and saw it – a phone, its casing an obnoxious, glittering fuchsia. My phone. The one Kayden had smashed the day he'd dragged me into his toxic orbit. But how? Why was it here? Why was I here? Panic clawed at my throat. My breathing hitched, each inhale a raw, desperate gasp. Cold sweat broke out across my skin, my body shaking uncontrollably as I forced myself upright on the overly soft, marshmallow-like mattress. I ripped the covers away, frantically searching the room. A chaotic explosion of pink, glitter, and plushies. A teenager’s room. This isn't real. My feet, aching with a phantom soreness that cut through the haze of terror, instinctively carried me to the bathroom. The sight that greeted me was just as jarring, just as painfully, aggressively cheerful. Barbie pink tiles. A rose gold faucet. Disgust, a bitter taste, coated my tongue. I ignored the childish nightmare, my gaze snapping to the mirror. And then, I was speechless. "Young…" My fingers, unblemished, traced the smooth, porcelain curve of my cheek. Not a single fine line, no dark circles under my eyes. My skin glowed with a soft, pinkish flush. A face I hadn’t seen in years. A beautiful face. Two words no one had spoken to me, nor had I dared to speak to myself, in what felt like a lifetime. A faint buzz echoed from the bedroom. My phone. I ignored it, staring at my reflection. It was the face of Ayla before. Before the compromises, before the slow rot of betrayal, before the life was choked out of me. Before the end. My eyes snagged on the digital clock next to the vanity mirror. 3:00 PM. March 13, 2018. HOW? A cold wave washed over me, replacing the panic with a chilling certainty. Time travel. It had to be. But if this was 2018… that meant he was alive. Kayden. And Olivia. And everything hadn't happened yet. But it would happen. My stomach dropped, a cold dread settling deep in my gut. This wasn't a dream. This was a second chance. A cursed, terrifying second chance. Suddenly, a soft knock echoed from the door. “Baby, come down for lunch!” That voice. Sweet, saccharine, laced with a false affection that now made my heart plummet to my belly, turning it to ice. Reality, it seemed, wasn't just a broken mirror. It was a replay of a nightmare. Kayden. No. History can NOT repeat itself. Not again. “Coming… baby,” I choked out, forcing a sweetness I didn't feel. The words came out dry, cold, a rasp against my raw throat. Breathe in. Breathe out. Control. I walked out, but froze, my gaze locking onto the man at the foot of the stairs. Kayden. The face I’d once adored, now a ticking time bomb of betrayal. He smiled, that charming, empty smile. "Hey, sleepyhead. Ready for lunch?" "Um… Where’s Olivia?" I asked, the name burning on my tongue. My voice was clipped, a stark contrast to the sugary lie I’d just uttered. Damn it, Ayla. Too soon. He didn't know I knew. Not yet. Kayden’s smile faltered. His eyes, usually so easy to read, shifted. He coughed. “What do you mean? Why would she be here?” "Kayden, she’s my best friend," I pushed, feigning innocence. "I thought she was coming with you? Is anything wrong?" His jaw tightened. A flash of defensiveness, quickly masked. "Why would I… I don't know where she is. She’s probably busy." He offered a strained, dismissive wave of his hand. My gaze drifted to his phone, clutched almost possessively in his hand. A notification. A text. My eyes, sharper now, caught a glimpse of the sender ID: 'Livy ❤️'. A cold, satisfied spark ignited in my chest. He was cheating. Right now. Just as he had been back then. Good. Let the games begin. He cleared his throat. “Actually, I just got an important call from work. Gotta go. Finish up lunch, baby. I’ll be back soon.” He leaned in, planting a quick, feigned kiss on my forehead, already pulling away, his hand already reaching for the doorknob. "Of course," I said, my voice sweet, a knife sheathed in silk. "Don't work too hard, baby." He was gone. His hurried footsteps echoing down the driveway. I knew. I knew it was Olivia. I knew he didn't have a job, not a real one. I knew it was all a lie, a house of cards that would come crashing down on our wedding day. The so-called happiest day of my life, the day that became my greatest curse. "Okay, Ayla," I whispered to the empty air, clenching my fists. "If you want revenge, you have to calm down." This time, things would be different. I wasn't the lovesick girl who gave everything – my family's mafia empire, my very identity – to that nouveau riche heir. I was Ayla, the mafia princess. And this time, he wouldn't just take. He would pay. Chapter 2: The Setup The villa felt different. Every shadow, every familiar scent, now held a new meaning. I moved through it like a ghost haunting my own past, my mind racing. My father wasn't back from his mission. I couldn't talk to him about getting into the business, not yet. That would be the hardest part – convincing the old lion to let his cub become a huntress. I ended up in his study, the air thick with the scent of old leather and his expensive cigars. It was a place I remembered so vividly, a fortress of power. I sank into his oversized chair, the soft leather cold against my skin. Days I’d hidden in this villa, refusing to engage, simply planning. A sharp rap on the heavy mahogany door. My head snapped up. Two figures entered, their presence casting a familiar chill over the room. The last two people I ever wanted to see again. Kayden. And Olivia. My heart didn’t drop this time. It solidified, a block of ice. "Ayla, why are you avoiding me?" Kayden asked, his voice laced with feigned concern. He looked genuinely baffled. Olivia, however, her eyes met mine with a flicker of challenge, a ghost of the smirk she’d worn on the day she sealed my fate. I rose slowly, deliberately, not bothering with my "good girlfriend" act. It was too soon for that. Too direct. But the coldness in my eyes was real. "I wasn't avoiding anyone. I was... catching up." I let my gaze linger on Olivia, then back to Kayden. "And it's odd she's still here. Aren't you two usually inseparable, Olivia?" I delivered the words with a cool detachment that even surprised me. Old habits, indeed. The ghost of the pain from my last life – the one they so carelessly ended – flickered, but it no longer held any real power. Their pathetic tryst? Utterly meaningless. But the memory of the blade, the shock, the cold... that still fueled a certain hunger. The air in the grand office thickened with their unspoken guilt. They couldn't possibly know the true depth of it. Kayden shifted uncomfortably, a familiar nervous tic. Olivia, ever the brazen one, met my gaze with that same infuriating smirk. "Honestly," she began, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness I now recognized as pure poison, "we were just discussing a project. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about." "A project that requires hushed tones and lingering glances, Livy?" I asked, using the pet name that used to bind us. "And Kayden, didn't you just have an 'important work call'?" My eyes flickered to him, a subtle pressure that went beyond mere jealousy. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Some things never changed. Olivia scoffed, but her eyes darted to Kayden, a silent communication passing between them. A communication that once sealed my fate. Now, it just confirmed their continued entanglement. Good. Simpler. "Don't be ridiculous, Ayla. You're my bestie. Why would I want your man?" Livy scoffed, but her eyes flickered towards Kayden, a silent communication passing between them – a communication that once sealed my fate. Now, it just confirmed their continued entanglement. Good. It made things simpler. Driven by a cold, calculated desire to sow discord, I suggested, "In fact, why don't we all go grab some coffee? We can discuss this 'project' in a more open setting." The invitation was a veiled threat, a tightening of the noose they didn't even realize was there. Kayden's hesitation was palpable, a flicker of the same fear I’d seen in his eyes that final moment. Livy, however, just smiled, a predatory glint in her eyes that I mirrored internally. "Oh, that's alright," she said smoothly, too smoothly. "Kayden was just leaving anyway, weren't you?" The possessive touch on his arm, the intimate address – it was all part of their pathetic little dance. "Actually," I interrupted, my voice deceptively calm, "I think you both have plenty of time. My father's associate, Mr. Rossi, just called. He mentioned needing to speak with Kayden about some... mutual investments." I fixed Kayden with a stare. Mr. Rossi was a name Kayden's family deeply respected and feared