The scent of blood was sharp. Acrid. Metallic.
It clung to the marble floor of the abandoned cathedral, soaked into her torn sleeves, and smeared across the bodies littering the ground.
Veronica knelt in silence, surrounded by the corpses of the very men she had once raised, trained, protected, and loved. Her fingers were slick with red. Her vision blurred, but her pride remained intact.
Her empire was burning. Her throne toppled.
The betrayal had come from within.
A dry, humorless laugh escaped her lips, echoing faintly through the wreckage.
She didn't flinch when the footsteps came. She had expected him. And yet, each echo struck her heart like a drumbeat of finality.
"Veronica," the man drawled, voice as smooth as velvet, yet cold enough to freeze a soul. "The mighty Mafia Queen, crawling in her blood. Beautiful, isn't it?"
She didn't turn. She didn't need to.
Adrian Russo.
The man she had once dragged from death's doorstep. The man who knelt and kissed her hand, swearing loyalty for life. Her most trusted captain. Her final mistake.
"You'll regret this," she rasped, voice hoarse from pain and smoke.
"I already regret not doing it sooner," he replied, tone devoid of sympathy. "You were too smart. Too untouchable. A woman like you was never supposed to rule. You forgot your place."
She smiled bitterly. "And you thought killing me would let you wear my crown?"
A click.
The gun was already against her head.
"You ruled with fear. I'll rule with ambition."
"And you'll die by both."
The bullet was clean. Precise. Heartless.
And just like that... the Underworld Queen fell.
Somewhere else.
A place where time no longer mattered.
Where life and death twisted in silence.
Amy Lin's body lay still in a hospital bed, pale as the moonlight spilling through the window. Machines beeped steadily, the only sign she still clung to life.
Seventeen years old, and dying.
Tubes ran from her arms. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her once-vibrant eyes stared at the ceiling with a glassy hollowness. Her fingers trembled as she reached toward a photo taped to the wall—her family, smiling, whole.
Her lips moved. The words were barely audible.
"Mom... Dad... Sis... Brothers... I'm sorry... I wasn't strong enough..."
The betrayal had come so suddenly. So thoroughly.
Her husband, once gentle and warm, had turned into a monster. His family mocked her. Beat her. Drugged her and paraded his mistress before her like a victory.
She had been the treasured daughter of a trillionaire, the jewel of the Lin family. Adored by her sister, pampered by her brothers. A delicate flower, always protected.
And yet, she had fallen.
Poisoned. Silenced. Forgotten.
All because she loved the wrong man.
The heart monitor gave one final beep.
Amy Lin died with tears on her cheeks.
But death was not the end.
Somewhere deeper—between realities—two souls collided.
The place was neither heaven nor hell. A liminal space of swirling light and weightless silence.
One soul burned bright with fire. Ragged. Torn. Furious.
The other flickered, soft and dim, but still warm.
"...You're not afraid of dying?" the gentle soul asked.
"I already did," the other replied, voice rough and full of grief.
"...I don't want revenge anymore," Amy whispered. "I just want peace... but my family... they didn't deserve to die... I wish someone—"
"I'll do it," the stronger soul said without hesitation.
"You will?"
"I have nothing left. I lost everything. I was betrayed. Killed. Like you. But I survived long enough to learn one truth—forgiveness is mercy for the wicked."
Amy's soul trembled.
"...Then take it. Take my name. My body. Make them pay."
The two souls met.
And became one.
Light.
Blinding, sharp light.
The first thing Veronica felt was the softness of silk sheets beneath her. Her eyes snapped open—clear, focused.
Her body... it was light. Untouched. Weak. Small.
She sat up abruptly.
"Miss! Young Miss, are you okay?!"
A maid rushed in. Nurses followed. Voices clamored.
But Veronica ignored them all.
She stumbled to her feet, heading straight for the mirror on the far wall. Her reflection stared back—a young girl, no older than seventeen, with delicate features, flawless skin, long black hair, and wide, doe-like eyes.
Amy Lin.
The original owner. The girl whose body she now inhabited. The girl who had suffered so much. Whose only wish was to protect her family.
Veronica touched the mirror, her fingertips trembling—not from fear, but from fury. From memory.
The mafia wars. The betrayals. The corpse-strewn floor. The bullet.
And now, the Lin family's slaughter, stolen inheritance, ruined name.
Two lives. Two deaths. One rebirth.
"I will not fail again," she whispered.
"I'll make them crawl, Amy. With silk gloves and a smile, I'll tear them apart."
A door opened.
"Young Miss, your family is here!"
Before Veronica could say a word, the room filled with warmth.
Her mother rushed forward first, pulling her into a teary embrace. "My baby... You scared us half to death!"
Her father's stern eyes were red-rimmed. He cleared his throat gruffly but looked away to hide his emotion.
Then came the others.
Her elegant older sister, a famous actress, poised and graceful, stroked her hair like porcelain.
Her brothers—
The eldest, dramatic, and protective, threatened the doctor half a dozen times.
The second, calm and composed, simply took her hand and smiled faintly.
The youngest of the boys, dressed in an absurd designer coat, plopped onto the bed and fussed over her like she was made of glass.
Veronica blinked, momentarily stunned.
This love... this warmth...
In her past life, she had no family.
In Amy's... they had been taken away.
But now, she had both.
And she would protect them. No matter what.
Outside the room, the sun began to rise.
A new day. A new life.
But deep in the shadows of her mind, Veronica was already preparing.
The mask of innocence would be flawless. She would play the role of the delicate daughter.
But behind her soft smile would be the iron will of a queen.
Enemies would underestimate her.
And when they did?
She would be ready.
Because this time—
The world wouldn't break her.
She would break it first.