The Reborn Mafia Queen

*The bullet tore through my chest like fire.* Rain hammered the alley as I dropped to my knees. My own underboss, Marcus Hale, stood over me with the gun still smoking in his hand. "You bastard," I gasped, blood filling my mouth. "I built this empire with my blood. You'll choke on it." Marcus smiled coldly. "Times change, Arizona. Good night, Queen." Thunder swallowed the second shot. Everything went black with one final vow burning in my mind. *I will make every last one of you pay.* My eyes snapped open. Soft silk sheets stuck to my skin. A fancy chandelier glowed above me. This was not the dirty alley. This was not death. I sat up fast, heart pounding. My hands looked smaller and softer, with perfect nails. I touched my face. Younger. Delicate. Not mine. "What the hell is this?" I whispered. A knock sounded on the door. "Miss Celine, dinner is ready. Your father says not to keep everyone waiting again." I swung my legs off the bed. Everything felt light and weak. I walked to the big mirror and stopped cold. A twenty-two-year-old girl stared back at me. Beautiful face, long dark hair, wide eyes full of fear. This was Celine Sawyer. Spoiled. Broken. Hated by her own family. Memories that were not mine rushed in. Her mother's death. The constant insults. The weakness. I clenched my jaw. "Second chance. Okay. I'll take it and burn them all." I changed into a simple black dress from the huge closet and went downstairs. Voices came from the dining room. I paused outside the door. "I don't know why we still bother," a rough voice said. "The girl is useless. Has been since her mother died." "Careful, Richard," another man replied, voice smooth and cold. "She still carries the Sawyer name." I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Three men sat at the long table. An older man with graying hair glared at me. A younger man in his late twenties with sharp dark eyes watched me silently. Damien. And some other guy I did not know. "You're late again, Celine," the older man snapped. "Sit down before the food gets cold." I sat slowly and studied their faces. "Sorry," I said softly. "I wasn't feeling well." Richard snorted. "You never feel well. That's your problem. Always making excuses. When are you going to grow up and contribute something to this family?" Damien leaned back and stared at me. His eyes felt heavy. The third man cleared his throat. "Richard, maybe we should discuss the shipping contracts after dinner." "No," Richard said. "She needs to hear this. The company lost money again last quarter because your branch decisions were terrible, Celine. Your mother would be ashamed." A sharp pain hit my chest. Celine's grief. I pushed it down hard. "I understand," I said quietly. "I'll do better." Richard laughed. "You'll do better? That's what you always say. Look at you. Twenty-two years old and still acting like a child who needs allowance money. Damien at least pulls his weight." Damien raised an eyebrow. "Enough, Richard. She's here now. Let's eat." Richard waved his hand. "Fine. Pass the wine, Celine." I reached for the bottle. My hand shook a little. This new body felt too soft. I hated it. As I poured, Richard kept going. "The board is watching us closely. One more mistake and they might push for changes. I won't let your laziness drag this family down." "I said I'll handle it," I replied, a bit sharper this time. Damien's eyes narrowed. "That sounded almost confident. New tone for you." I met his gaze straight on. "Maybe I'm tired of being talked to like this." The table went quiet. Richard stared at me in surprise. The other man shifted in his seat. "Well," Richard said after a moment, "at least you found some backbone tonight. Don't lose it before breakfast." The rest of dinner dragged with more insults and business talk. I stayed mostly quiet and listened. Every word showed me the cracks in this family. Every look from Damien made my skin tingle with warning. When it finally ended, I stood up fast. "I'm going to my room," I said. Richard barely glanced at me. "Good. Try not to embarrass us tomorrow." I walked upstairs, mind racing. This body was weak, but I could use it. I had built one empire. I would build another. In my bedroom, I closed the door and went straight to the mirror. The girl in the glass still looked like a stranger. "Arizona Stephen," I whispered. "You're not dead. Not really." A deep voice spoke from behind me. "Who the hell is Arizona?" I spun around. Damien stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his dark eyes locked on me with dangerous intensity. My heart slammed hard. The game had already begun.