I Gave My Mafia Fiancé to My Evil Stepsister

The first thing I did when I came back to life was to pawn off my engagement to the Don of the Schroder family, Edmund, on my stepsister.

In my last life, he used the "family rules" to make me give up the one thing I loved—racing. He threw out all my colorful dresses and turned me into his canary in a gilded cage.

I died, suffocated and hopeless.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the marriage contract was to be signed.

I quietly switched my name with my stepsister Laura's and let Edmund sign the papers.

He didn't forget to warn me, "Stay out of trouble. Our wedding is in three days. Be a good girl and wait for me to come get you."

But he had no idea I'd already bought a fake ID and passport.

In three days, I'd be gone. I'd be free.

I died on a bloody night.

A bullet from a rival family tore through my chest. I collapsed in a cold, abandoned warehouse, my vision blurring.

The last thing I saw was Edmund, running towards me.

He fell to his knees beside me, his cold, gray eyes—usually so hard—shining with tears. His hands trembled as he pressed down on my wound, but blood seeped through his fingers.

"Alessia... don't close your eyes. Look at me..." His voice shook.

I wanted to tell him that if he had just let me go, if he hadn't trapped me with those damn "family rules," maybe I wouldn't be dying here.

But when I tried to speak, only blood bubbled from my lips.

Darkness swallowed everything.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw the familiar pink velvet curtains and crystal chandelier.

I shot up in bed and looked at the calendar on my nightstand: three years ago, to the day.

I was reborn.

Back to the day the marriage contract was to be signed. Back to the beginning of my nightmare.

I didn't waste a second. I bolted down the stairs and threw open the door to my father's study.

"I'm calling off the engagement."

The room went dead silent. My father’s teacup froze mid-air. My stepmother, Claire, stared with wide eyes.

"What did you say?" My father slammed his cup on the table. "You think this is a game? This is the Schroder family! Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to be in your place?"

"Then give it to someone who wants it. Like Laura," I said calmly.

The anger on my father's face froze. Claire snapped out of her shock, so excited she almost jumped out of her chair.

"Are you... are you serious?" my father stammered.

I knew exactly what they were thinking. My father always favored the quiet, obedient Laura, and Claire had always dreamed of her daughter marrying into a powerful family.

"Of course, I'm serious. Laura's always wanted this, hasn't she? She can have it," I said with a shrug. That was all I came to say. I turned to leave.

"I'm calling Mrs. Schroder right now!" my father said, grabbing the phone with glee.

Back in my room, I took out the marriage contract and changed "Alessia" to "Laura." Then, papers in hand, I drove straight to Edmund's office.

Edmund looked surprised to see me. I always complained his office was nothing but black and white, a boring place I never wanted to set foot in.

He glanced at his watch. "You're early. I thought we agreed on three o'clock."

I forced a smile. "I... I couldn't wait to see you."

A faint smile touched his lips.

He took the contract. The terms were already set, so he signed it without a second look. The moment his pen left the paper, a massive weight lifted off my chest.

"Good," he said, pleased with my eagerness. "Our wedding is in three days. Be a good girl and wait for me to come marry you."

"I will," I nodded sweetly, but inside, I was laughing my head off.

The second I left, I dialed an encrypted number.

"I need a new identity. A passport, too."

"Three days. Usual place," a low, gravelly voice answered.

After hanging up, I straightened my hair in a storefront window. The girl in the reflection had a fire in her eyes I'd never seen before.

Freedom. My freedom was finally within reach.

That night, I met my best friend Chloe at the wildest club downtown to celebrate. The music was deafening, the neon lights blinding, and the air thick with the smell of alcohol and freedom. It was exactly the kind of place Edmund hated.

"Alessia, are you sure you should be here?" Chloe asked, worried. "If Edmund finds out—"

"He won't be my fiancé for much longer," I said, leaning back on the leather sofa and sipping a Bloody Mary. "Relax, I've got this."

A young, handsome bartender came over to mix us new drinks. His movements were smooth, his features as perfect as a Greek statue. High on my newfound freedom, I reached out and gently stroked his chin.

"You're a pretty one, aren't you?"

Just then, a cold, deep voice—laced with the scent of blood and steel—came from behind me.

"Who's pretty?"