Reincarnated as The Weakest Daughter of the Mafia Boss

In a room draped in gold and crimson, chandeliers flickered overhead like stars refusing to fall. The Geniva mansion stood in icy silence, its halls cold despite the wealth that flowed through them like blood. Servants passed by without glancing, their footsteps hushed. Behind the thick velvet curtain, a girl sat alone, wrapped in a too-large cardigan that swallowed her petite frame. Her eyes stared at her reflection—a stranger in the glass. Elirianna Athanasie Geniva. A name that should’ve commanded fear and respect. A daughter of the infamous Andrine Geniva—Mafia King, shadow sovereign, blood-soaked ruler of the underground—and LilyAnne Geniva, an international fashion icon with grace sharp enough to cut. But Elirianna was neither feared nor admired. She was ignored. Mocked. Pitied. She was the Geniva family’s embarrassment. A girl who couldn’t fight. Couldn’t even raise her voice. With mismatched clothes, awkward smiles, and eyes that always seemed a little too hopeful. Her older brothers barely looked her way. Her younger sister, perfect and pure, held their parents’ pride. Her stepsister? Sweet in public. A serpent in private. And then there was her fiancé—the dashing heir to a rival mafia syndicate. Chosen for politics, not love. In the end, Elirianna would die. Killed by her own fiancé after being falsely accused of poisoning the heroine of their story. Her death, a whisper beneath gunfire and betrayal. Forgotten even by the family who gave her life. But fate—fickle, cruel, playful fate—had a different plan. Thousands of miles away, in another world, a bullet tore through the chest of Captain Mirrianna Lianne. War hero. Military strategist. The general’s only daughter. Known as the “Iron Rose,” she died in the line of duty, her final breath laced with regret. “I wish... I could have lived a life where no one expected me to be perfect. Just once... I want to be underestimated.” And then—darkness. When her eyes opened again, she was no longer in a warzone. She was in a silk-covered bed, wrapped in lace and shame. She was Elirianna. Or at least... she was now. The mansion would soon learn that the weakest daughter was no longer the same. That the quiet girl who once walked its halls with bowed head and dull eyes had been replaced by something else. Sharp. Calculated. Beautiful. Deadly. And this time, she wouldn’t die quietly. Not without rewriting the ending. Not without tearing apart the world that tried to break her. Welcome to the new story.