Ashes of His Regret: The Mafia Queen's Twins

Untitled EpisodeChapter 3: The Queen and Her Little Devils

Five Years Later.

The rain in New York was just as cold as it had been five years ago.

Alexander Sterling stood silently in the private cemetery of the Sterling estate, holding a black umbrella over a pristine white marble headstone. The engraving on the stone was simple, yet it carried the weight of a thousand daggers to his heart:

Here lies Seraphina Sterling.

Beloved Wife and Mother to Two Unborn Angels.

Alexander reached out, his bare hand tracing the cold letters. He was thirty-two now, but the last five years had aged him. The arrogant, untouchable billionaire was gone. In his place stood a ruthless, hollow shell of a man. His eyes, once sharp and commanding, were now permanently shadowed with exhaustion and an incurable grief.

Underneath his expensive tailored shirt, resting right against his heart, was the half-melted silver locket containing the ultrasound photo. He never took it off. Not even when he slept—which was rare.

"I'm sorry," Alexander whispered to the cold stone, his voice raspy. It was a daily ritual. Every morning for the past 1,825 days, he came here to beg for a forgiveness he knew he would never receive.

He had destroyed the woman who loved him for a lie.

A week after Seraphina’s death, Alexander discovered the truth. Chloe was never pregnant. She had bribed a doctor to fake the results just to force Alexander to divorce Seraphina. When Alexander found out, his wrath was biblical. He didn't just kick Chloe out; he systematically destroyed her life, her family’s business, and made sure she was blacklisted from every city in the country. She was now rotting in a high-security psychiatric facility, driven mad by the torment Alexander had unleashed upon her.

But revenge brought him no peace. It didn't bring Seraphina back. It didn't bring his twins back.

"Mr. Sterling," a cautious voice called out.

Alexander didn't turn around. "What is it, Marcus?" he asked his loyal assistant.

"Sir, we have a situation," Marcus said, holding an iPad. "The European syndicate, the Cosa Nostra, has aggressively bought out thirty percent of our company's shares overnight. Their new leader, the Donna, has just landed in New York. She demands a meeting at the charity gala tonight. If we don't comply, she threatens a hostile takeover of the entire Sterling Empire."

Alexander’s jaw clenched. He welcomed the distraction. He welcomed the war. It was the only thing that made him feel alive.

"Prepare my car," Alexander said coldly, turning away from the grave. "Let’s go meet this Donna."

JFK International Airport - Private Tarmac.

A sleek, matte-black private jet with a golden crest on its tail landed smoothly on the runway. A fleet of armored SUVs was already waiting, surrounded by dozens of men in sharp suits, heavily armed and standing at attention.

The cabin door opened, and the stairs descended.

First to step out were two bodyguards, scanning the perimeter. Then, a woman emerged, and the very air around her seemed to freeze.

Seraphina Vance was no longer the soft, crying wife who wore simple dresses and begged for her husband's attention.

She was breathtakingly lethal.

She wore a tailored crimson-red pantsuit that hugged her perfect curves, paired with black stiletto heels that clicked sharply against the metal stairs. Her dark hair was styled in a sleek, straight cut, and oversized designer sunglasses hid her eyes. Her lips were painted a dangerous shade of blood red.

When Don Vincenzo pulled her from the burning wreckage five years ago, she was broken. But the old Mafia Don didn't just heal her body; he forged her into a weapon. When he passed away a year ago, he left his entire European underworld empire to the only person he trusted: his adopted daughter, Seraphina.

"Welcome back to New York, Donna Seraphina," her right-hand man, Dante, said, bowing his head respectfully.

Seraphina took off her sunglasses, revealing eyes that were as cold and sharp as shattered glass. She looked at the distant New York skyline. The city that had broken her.

"It smells exactly the same," Seraphina murmured, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "Like greed and betrayal."

"Mommy!"

A sweet, high-pitched voice broke her cold demeanor. Seraphina turned, her eyes instantly softening with absolute warmth.

Walking down the stairs were two five-year-old children, holding hands.

Mia, her beautiful daughter, looked like a little angel in a custom-made black Dior dress, holding a stuffed bunny. But her eyes—bright, calculating, and mischievous—showed she was far from innocent.

Beside her was Leo. Seraphina’s breath always hitched slightly when she looked at her son. Leo was a miniature, exact replica of Alexander Sterling. He had the same dark hair, the same sharp jawline, and the same intimidating aura, even at five years old. He was wearing a tiny, perfectly tailored three-piece suit, holding a high-tech tablet in his small hands.

"Are we there, Mommy?" Mia asked, running to hug Seraphina’s leg. "Is this where the bad man lives?"

Seraphina picked Mia up, kissing her cheek. "Yes, my little princess. This is his city."

Leo walked down the remaining steps, his small fingers typing rapidly on his tablet. He didn't look up as he spoke, his voice eerily calm and mature for his age.

"I've already bypassed the Sterling Corporation's secondary firewall, Mother," Leo announced, adjusting his miniature Rolex watch. "I can crash their main servers and bankrupt him in exactly twelve minutes. Do I have permission to execute the command?"

Dante, the hardened mafia enforcer, actually shivered looking at the five-year-old boy. The kid was a terrifying genius.

Seraphina chuckled, a dark, melodic sound. She walked over and gently patted Leo’s head.

"Patience, my little hacker," Seraphina said softly. "Bankrupting him is too easy. Death is too merciful. We are going to take away everything he loves, piece by piece, just like he did to us."

Leo finally looked up, his dark eyes—so much like Alexander’s—flashing with a cold, protective fury. "Nobody hurts you and gets away with it, Mommy. I will make him cry."

"I know you will, my sweet boy," Seraphina smiled. She handed Mia to Dante and put her sunglasses back on.

She looked back at the skyline. Tonight was the annual Sterling Charity Gala. Alexander would be there. He thought he was meeting a ruthless European Mafia boss to save his company.

He had no idea he was about to meet a ghost.

"Let's go," Seraphina commanded, her voice echoing with absolute authority. "It's time to burn his empire to the ground."