The school boxing match. My son Leo’s gloves were lined with broken glass.

I carried him from the ring. Blood was everywhere, staining the canvas crimson.

And Isabella, the monster behind it all, just stood there smirking. A snake's smile.

She dragged her son over, then slapped me. Hard. Again and again. She tried to force me to my knees.

"Some gutter trash like you… thinks he can challenge the Falcone heir? This is what happens. Believe me, I say the word, and you disappear. Poof."

I just raised an eyebrow.

The Falcone family has one heir this generation. My son, Leo.

So when did a Falcone become gutter trash?

I wiped the blood from my lip. I called the Don—the man my father made.

"I hear the Falcone family has a new heir."

Let's see who has the nerve to touch the old Don's grandson.

A man’s voice answered. Rough. Impatient.

"Who the hell is this? Some bitch calling the boss? Piss off before you’re sleeping with the fishes."

A chill went down my spine.

Marco got a new right-hand man.

A new guy who didn't know my voice. Didn't even know I existed.

Worse. Sixteen years of marriage, and he didn't even save my number?

The voice on the other end was still cursing. I hung up.

It was clear. Calling Marco was useless.

Seeing this, Isabella clicked over in her heels, looming over us. "Alright, you bitch. Stop the act. Apologize to my son. Now."

But I wasn't listening to her anymore. My eyes locked on her hand.

On the antique ruby ring sparkling under the lights.

The symbol of the Falcone matriarch. The one passed down from my grandmother.

My ring.

Then I looked at the boy next to her, Nico.

Around the fifteen-year-old’s neck hung a fine cross necklace, engraved with the Falcone family crest.

The cross I picked for Leo’s tenth birthday.

Now it hung around another boy's neck.

A boy about Leo's age.

The pieces clicked into place.

If I hadn't come back from Sicily early…

I never would have found out. Marco had a mistress. And he let her and their bastard son wear what was ours.

Worse. He had been betraying me since the year we were married.

White-hot rage burned in my chest.

The referee nearby smirked.

"What? Some girl from the slums thinks she can challenge the Don's woman?"

"Hurry up and apologize to the real Falcone heir. All this blood is scaring him."

The guests started whispering.

"Right? Some nobody trying to be a big shot. Everyone knows Nico was supposed to win."

"I don't want my kid standing near him. You might catch... poverty."

Their looks of disgust were like cold knives.

They made my son, Leo, tremble in my arms.

Leo clutched my silk dress, shaking his head desperately.

"Mama, I didn't make trouble. I just heard the winner gets five thousand dollars. I wanted to buy you a new cashmere shawl."

"And… the winner gets into the elite training camp. If I get in, I can get stronger. I can protect you…"

I looked at his pale little face. My heart felt like it was being crushed by a fist.

For three years, I was in Italy, cleaning up the family business. I told Marco to put one million dollars in Leo’s trust fund every month.

The money was supposed to arrive on time. My son was to want for nothing.

And now here he was, the true Falcone heir, fighting for his life over a miserable five thousand dollars.

It was Marco. He had crossed me. He used my own son as a sacrificial pawn.

Before Leo could finish, Nico raised the golden trophy high and slammed it down on Leo's bandaged hand.

"Agh!" A gut-wrenching scream tore from Leo's throat.

Leo curled into a ball, shaking in pain.

The bleeding, which had just stopped, gushed out again. The gauze turned red in an instant.

Nico spat. "You knew my father booked the best steakhouse in Chicago to celebrate my win. He's waiting for this trophy. And you still dared to challenge me?"

My vision went red.

"Stop it!" I lunged forward to protect Leo, but Isabella shoved me back.

Isabella and Nico exchanged a look. Vicious smiles spread across their faces.

"Since your son wants to be so famous, I'll give him a 'gift'."

Isabella clapped her hands. A few reporters swarmed in, camera flashes popping everywhere.

A reporter exclaimed, his voice buzzing with excitement.

“The slum kid tried to maim the Falcone heir with glass in his gloves and ended up mangling his own hand! This is tomorrow’s front page, easy!”

I stared at the blinding flashes. My voice was ice.

"If a single one of these photos sees print, I will burn the newspaper that ran it to the ground."

The quiet authority in my voice froze every reporter in the room.

Tears streamed down Leo’s face. He clutched his wounded hand.

"Mama, it hurts so much…"

I frantically tried to tear open his glove.

The glass shards dug deeper, leaving horrific wounds in his palm.

I couldn't imagine the agony he felt with every punch.

Three years of patience. Three years of compromise. Three years of trust.

All for nothing.

For my son to be treated like trash. For me to be erased. For this whore and her bastard to take my place.

Enough.

My hand trembled as I dialed a number.

"Vito. Leo is hurt. A boxing match at the school. Get the family's best doctor to the estate. Now."

A pause.

"Then freeze Marco’s assets. Strip his authority. And bring him to me. In chains."

The roar of an engine came through the phone, followed by a steady, respectful voice.

"Yes, my Queen. I'm on my way."

Isabella slapped the phone from my hand. It shattered on the floor.

"Done with the act?" Her voice was shrill. "Get your bastard on his knees and apologize to my son! Kneel!"

I held Leo close, glaring at her. "You hurt him, and you want the victim to apologize?"

"Ha!" Nico swaggered over, grinding the shattered phone under his heel. "Didn't you tell Mommy, Leo? At school, the other kids get in line to shine my shoes for me."

He looked at Leo, his smile wicked.

"After you use the bathroom, you get on your knees on that filthy floor and wipe my shoes with your own shirt. You’re the dirtiest little servant in the whole school. Why pretend you’re clean now?"

The awful memories hit him. Leo curled up in my arms, choking back sobs. "Mama, I didn't… I just…"

Seeing Leo like this, a sharp pain shot through my chest.

How dare they bully my child like this…

"It's okay, baby," I stroked his back, my voice trembling. "The doctor will be here soon. Mama will make these people pay."

Isabella shrieked with laughter. "A doctor? You think any doctor would dare to come now?"

She snapped her fingers. Several men in black suits immediately surrounded us.

"I've had the Falcone men block every road to the estate," Isabella said, triumphant. "Not even a fly can get in."

My blood ran cold.

She dared to use the Falcone family's soldiers?

"Isabella Moretti." I shot to my feet. "You have no idea what you're doing."

SMACK!

I backhanded her. Hard.

The entire gym went silent.

Isabella clutched her cheek, her eyes flashing with shock and fury.

I stood in the center of the ring, scanning every person in the room. My voice was cold and powerful.

"Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

"The Falcone family owns this city. Who are you to deny my son a doctor?"

The air in the room was frozen.

I looked around, my voice steady and strong.

"My name is Arabella Falcone. I am the Donna of this family. Any doctor in this room—you will treat my son. Now. The Falcone family will make it worth your while."

But everyone seemed nailed to the floor.

Then… nothing.

The guests just stared at each other. Some whispered. Some sneered.

No one knelt. No one bowed their head. Not a single guard moved.

Marco’s poison had seeped into every corner of my family.

Isabella recovered. The red handprint on her face made her look even more monstrous.

"Guards!" she screamed. "Get this crazy bitch!"

Several of Marco’s bodyguards rushed forward. They grabbed my arms, forcing me to the ground.

"Kneel!" Isabella stalked over to me in her heels. "Kneel and kiss my son's shoes! Apologize!"

I struggled to get up, but their hands were like iron clamps.

"Let go of me! You dare—"

The next second, a brutal kick landed on the back of my knee. I slammed down onto the hard steps.

Warm blood trickled from my mouth, blurring my vision.

"Dare what?" Isabella sneered. "There's only one Don in Chicago now. Marco. And I'm the woman he loves."

Isabella admired my humiliation as she made a call.

Her man on the other end heard her seductive tone and immediately patched the call through to Marco, who was in a private meeting.

"Marco, darling," her voice dripped with honey. "There's a crazy woman here. She's bullying me and Nico…"

Marco's doting voice came through the phone. "What's wrong? Who dares to touch my baby?"

"It's some lunatic calling herself the Falcone Donna. She even hit me…" Isabella whined.

"What?" Marco didn't even let her finish before he exploded.

"I don't care who she is. No one in Chicago touches my woman. Do what you have to do. I'm on my way."

The guests started talking again.

"Looks like Marco is serious about this one."

"This Arabella talks a big game, but the Don doesn't even know her name."

"Hitting Isabella? She's a dead woman walking."

I knelt there, drowning in humiliation.

"Leo…" I struggled to turn my head towards my son.

Leo looked at me, pinned to the floor, his eyes filled with tears.

"Let my mom go!" he struggled weakly to stand.

Nico kicked him in the shoulder. Leo fell back hard.

"You want to protect your mom?" Nico looked down at him. "Then get on your knees and beg me."

Leo bit his lip. He slowly crawled in front of Nico and knelt, trembling.

"Please… let my mom go… I'll do anything for you…"

"Anything?" A vicious glint appeared in Nico's eyes. "Then you know what to do."

He pointed to his expensive Italian leather shoes.

Leo looked at me, his eyes full of pain and despair. He slowly bowed his head…

"NO!" I screamed, but it was too late.

Nico suddenly lifted his foot and kicked Leo square in the chest.

Leo slammed backwards, his back hitting the ground hard.

"Hahaha, this is so much fun!" Nico walked over and ground the heel of his expensive shoe into Leo's injured hand.

"AHHHHHH!" A bloodcurdling scream ripped from Leo's throat as fresh blood bloomed through the gauze…

Just then, a powerful roar thundered from the entrance:

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HER! NOW!"

A tall, imposing figure appeared in the doorway.

Vito.

The family’s Consigliere. An old-timer loyal to my father's memory.

Silver-haired, dressed in a sharp black suit, leaning on a silver-tipped cane.

Just his presence was enough to silence the room and chill the blood.

Even the bodyguards holding me down instinctively let go.

"Mr. Vito!" Isabella immediately put on a fawning smile. "You're just in time. This crazy woman…"

Vito didn't even glance at her. He walked straight to me.

He saw my injuries, his eyes flashing with guilt. But then his gaze fell on Leo’s mangled, bloody hand. In an instant, the guilt was gone. Replaced by a cold, murderous rage.

"Who did this?"

"Vito, where is my medical team?" I struggled to stand, my voice shaking.

Vito's face was grim. "I'm sorry, my Queen. They were intercepted on the way."

He played me a recording.

Marco's voice, bored and dismissive.

"Vito, the teacher said Leo is doing fine at school. You just rest up at the nursing home. Don't waste the family's medical resources."

"I'll come get you in a couple of days when Arabella is back."

Vito looked down, ashamed.

"For three years, Marco has used my 'poor health' as an excuse to push me out of the inner circle. He's filled the family with his own men. My orders… they don't get through anymore."

My heart sank.

Marco's betrayal ran deeper than I'd imagined.

He hadn't just cheated on me. In the three years I was gone, he had systematically stripped me of my power in the family.

Back then, to protect his fragile male ego, I never announced that he only rose to power because of me.

Instead, I stepped into the background, encouraging him to build his own authority.

I had raised a viper.

"But," Vito leaned in, his voice low, "Your 'Ghost' unit is on its way. They'll be here in ten minutes."

My heart steadied a little.

The Ghosts. My elite private force. Wherever they went, they left only three things behind.

Men on their knees, men on the ground, and men who would never speak again.

Just then, the sound of car engines came from outside the estate.

Several doctors in white coats hurried in.

Vito's eyes lit up.

"It seems Marco still has some feeling for you."

But the doctors didn't even look at Leo. They went straight to Isabella.

"Miss Isabella, does your face still hurt?" the lead doctor asked respectfully. "We brought the best anti-swelling medication."

Isabella was stunned for a moment.

But after seeing the family order the doctor handed her, her respectful act vanished.

"Mr. Vito," she cooed, "I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed."

She waved the document in the air.

"This is a family order, signed by Marco himself. Due to your advanced age and senility, you are hereby relieved of your duties as Consigliere."

Vito's eyes narrowed. He snorted.

"My position isn't for you to decide."

Isabella’s lips curled into a sneer.

"Let me be clear. You're just an old dog the family keeps on a leash. When my man tells you to get lost, you get lost."

Her eyes darted between Vito and me. A look of realization dawned on her face.

"Ah, now I get it. That's why she has so much nerve. You’re her old lover, aren't you, Vito?"

Vito roared, "Insolence! You will not speak of the Queen that way!"

Isabella's laughter was sharp.

"Oh, I have the power. Making you two disappear from Chicago is as easy as lifting a finger."

She took out her phone and opened a black app.

"Since you won't learn your lesson, don't blame me for what comes next. This is the underworld’s hit list. An open market. The second I put Leo's name on it, every killer in North America will be coming for his head."

I replied coolly, "Is that so? Go ahead and try."

"Oh, I will! Anyone on the kill list ends up crippled or dead. You're finished!"

Isabella sneered as she began typing on her phone. "Let's see… Leo Falcone… one-million-dollar bounty…"

Her fingers flew across the screen.

But suddenly, she froze.

I watched her, my face a cold mask.

"What…" She stared at the screen, her face turning pale. "How can this be…"

A red warning flashed on her phone:

`ACCESS DENIED. TARGET IS CLASSIFIED: ALPHA-LEVEL PROTECTION.`

She didn't believe it. She tried again.

`ACCESS DENIED. TARGET IS CLASSIFIED: ALPHA-LEVEL PROTECTION.`

`ACCESS DENIED. TARGET IS CLASSIFIED: ALPHA-LEVEL PROTECTION.`

The same message, every time.

She looked up in a panic, scanning the crowd.

"This… this is impossible!"

Of course, she didn't know.

My identity and Leo's are encrypted at the highest security level of the entire underworld network.

Her clearance level wasn't high enough to even view our files.

The guests below started whispering, their expressions shifting.

"Alpha-level protection? Doesn't that mean...?"

"No way. I thought they were nobodies."

"The system doesn't lie."

"I knew there was something about her. That quiet power... that's a real queen. Isabella is just a loud-mouthed whore in a fancy dress."

Hearing the crowd, Isabella got so angry she smashed her phone screen.

"The system must be broken! Just you wait!"

Just then, the main doors of the estate were thrown open.

A man in a custom-tailored suit strode in, flanked by his men.

"Who's the fool that made my woman unhappy?"

Isabella saw him and immediately puffed out her chest, lifting her chin at me in defiance.

She smirked at me. "My man is here. It’s over for you."