Siena POV

"Stop."

My voice wasn't a scream. It was a cold, sharp command that sliced through the freezing air of the corridor.

The massive female Enforcer froze, her heavy hand hovering just inches from Valentina’s pale face. I didn't wait for her to process the interruption. My heels clicked against the marble as I closed the distance, stepping directly in front of the trembling widow, shielding her with my own body.

Elmira Castillo’s eyes narrowed into slits of pure venom. Beside her, Isabella scoffed, while Lucia hovered nervously a few steps back.

"Step aside, Siena," Elmira sneered, her aristocratic mask slipping to reveal the cruelty beneath. "Or are you so eager to break the family's hierarchy for a lowly Soldier's widow? If you want to protect her, perhaps you should take her punishment."

I didn't flinch. Instead, I closed the distance between us, my eyes dead and hollow. I had died with a wire around my throat; a slap from an Enforcer was nothing but a joke.

"I dare to kneel here and take her punishment," I said, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper that echoed off the stone walls. "But do you dare to strike me, Elmira? Guess what kind of *Vendetta* Dante will order if he comes home to find a handprint on his Mafia Queen's face."

The color instantly drained from Elmira’s face. The sheer terror of the Dark Don’s possessive, bloodthirsty nature paralyzed her. She knew Dante would burn the entire East Wing to the ground for a single scratch on my skin.

Before Elmira could formulate a retreat, the heavy oak doors of the suite clicked open. Greta, Elder Adeline’s high-ranking maid, stepped out with a perfectly practiced bow. "Elder Adeline invites you all inside for morning coffee."

The standoff shattered. I glanced down at Valentina. The widow was staring up at me, her eyes wide with a mixture of absolute shock and a profound, desperate gratitude. I gave her a subtle nod of dismissal, ensuring she was safe, before turning on my heel and walking into the lion's den.

The East Wing Suite smelled of bitter espresso and expensive, suffocating perfume. Elder Adeline Castillo sat on her velvet armchair like a queen holding court. She was a master of psychological warfare, and the moment we took our seats, she began her play.

"Whatever was that noise in the corridor, Elmira?" Adeline asked, sipping from her bone china cup, feigning ignorance.

Elmira eagerly took the bait, exaggerating Valentina's disrespect and my "unreasonable" interference.

Adeline sighed, casting a pitying look at the older women. "Siena has the Don's absolute favor now. Even as an Elder, it is not my place to intervene. I suppose those of us with old Castillo blood must simply endure being sidelined by... newer influences."

It was a masterful manipulation. Instantly, Isabella and Elmira began murmuring their bitter agreements, lamenting how their ancient bloodlines were losing to a commoner's pillow talk. Adeline was rallying the traditionalists, building a united front of hostility against me.

I sat on the velvet sofa, lazily stirring my coffee. In my past life, this unified hatred would have terrified me into submission. Now, it was just pathetic. Their coordinated venom was nothing but the impotent rage of women who knew they couldn't actually touch me as long as Dante's shadow covered me.

I placed my silver spoon down. The sharp clink silenced the room.

I didn't look at Adeline. Instead, I turned to my loyal maid standing behind me. "Rosa."

"Yes, *mia Regina*," Rosa replied instantly.

"Go to the estate manager. Tell him to lock the East Wing guest suite next to the Master Suite," I ordered, my voice loud and clear. "As for Chiara, have her belongings moved to the standard rooms in the Associates' District at the very edge of the estate."

A stunned, breathless silence fell over the suite.

"Siena!" Adeline snapped, her facade of calm completely shattering. "Chiara is your own flesh and blood! You would banish your sister to the slums where not even formal Soldiers bother to tread? What is the meaning of this?"

I picked up my espresso, taking a slow, deliberate sip before meeting the Elder's furious gaze.

"I haven't been sleeping well lately," I said, offering a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Besides my Don, I simply don't want to hear anyone else breathing near my quarters. If you pity her so much, Aunt Adeline, why not let her stay in your suite?"

The sheer, unapologetic arrogance of my excuse left them speechless. They stared at me as if I had lost my mind, horrified by my cold-blooded treatment of my "sweet" sister.

Let them think I was a tyrant. I preferred their fear over their fake smiles.

I stood up, smoothing the skirt of my dress. "Enjoy your coffee, ladies."

I left the suite without looking back, my heels clicking rhythmically against the marble. It was time to head back to the Master Suite balcony. My treacherous sister was due to arrive any minute, and I wouldn't miss her humiliating welcome for the world.

Siena POV

The freezing morning wind whipped across the Master Suite balcony as I looked down at the sprawling estate courtyard. Below me, a black bulletproof SUV rolled to a halt near the marble fountain.

The heavy door opened, and Chiara stepped out. She looked exactly as I remembered—fragile, wide-eyed, and dressed in a modest pastel coat that screamed innocent vulnerability.

Before the Estate Guards could even reach for her designer luggage, Gia, my foolish Associate maid, practically sprinted across the cobblestones to fawn over her.

"Lady Chiara! It is such an honor," Gia chirped, her voice carrying clearly in the crisp air. She eagerly grabbed Chiara's bags. "Look at your elegance! Not even Elder Adeline's daughter, the high-and-mighty Princess Kaleigh, has such an aura. With the Don favoring our Queen so absolutely, those old Elders will soon have to look to you and your sister for their place."

From my vantage point, I saw the blood instantly drain from Chiara’s face. In the ruthless hierarchy of the Castillo family, a lowly Associate openly disrespecting an Elder's ancient bloodline was a death sentence. Chiara forced a stiff smile, her eyes darting around in sheer panic, mentally cursing the idiot maid who was about to get them both tortured.

But as Chiara glanced up and caught sight of me standing on the high balcony, her mask slipped for a fraction of a second. Behind her terrified, teary eyes, I saw the raw, burning jealousy. She hated that I was the one looking down at her.

I offered her a cold, dead smile.

Down in the courtyard, several muscular Estate Guards stepped forward to carry her trunks into the main house.

"Halt."

Rosa’s sharp voice cut through the courtyard. My loyal maid stepped out of the heavy oak doors, her face an unreadable mask of stone.

"The Mafia Queen has issued a command," Rosa announced loudly, ensuring every Associate and guard in the vicinity heard her. "Lady Chiara is forbidden from entering the main house. Her quarters have been reassigned to the standard rooms in the Associates' District at the far edge of the estate. Leave her luggage there."

The guards immediately dropped the bags and stepped back. Chiara froze, her fragile facade shattering into pure, unadulterated humiliation.

"Well, isn't this a pathetic sight?"

Isabella, the Capo's wife, paused on the courtyard steps, her lips curling into a malicious sneer. "Thrown out with the trash already? It seems our Queen finally realized her commoner sister doesn't belong breathing the same air as us."

Chiara’s hands balled into fists. For a second, the venomous viper I knew from my past life hissed. "Watch your mouth, Isabella," she snapped, her voice dripping with sudden, sharp malice.

Isabella blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sheer hatred in the "sweet" girl's eyes. Realizing her mistake, Chiara immediately shrank back, her eyes filling with large, trembling tears.

"Please, forgive my sister," Chiara whimpered loudly, ensuring the gathering crowd could hear. "Siena... she hasn't been well. Her mind is so fragile, so paranoid lately. She sees enemies everywhere. I only pray the Don can cure her madness."

I scoffed from the balcony. It was a masterful piece of psychological manipulation, painting me as a tyrannical, unstable monster. But I didn't care. Let them think I was a madwoman.

I turned away from the freezing wind and descended the sweeping marble staircase to the Grand Foyer.

I had barely reached the black-and-white marble floor when I found my path blocked. Elder Adeline, Elmira, and Isabella were standing near the archway of the East Wing.

"You make a mockery of the Family Bond, Siena," Adeline hissed, her aristocratic face tight with fury. "Banishing your own flesh and blood to the slums? You are turning the Castillo family into a laughingstock before the entire New York syndicate. You will rescind this order immediately."

"I will not have that commoner girl dumped in my husband's territory," Isabella added bitterly.

I stopped, my posture perfectly straight. "I am simply preserving the Don's peace," I replied, my voice echoing coldly in the foyer. "Isn't that what you preached this morning, Aunt Adeline? Hierarchy and order. My husband's sanctuary will not be disturbed."

The tension in the air grew thick enough to choke on. Then, Elmira stepped forward, her face softening into a mask of sickeningly sweet grace.

"There is no need for such hostility," Elmira murmured, playing the benevolent peacemaker. "If the Queen's nerves are too frayed to host her own sister, I will take the poor girl in. Chiara can stay in a guest room in my wing."

Adeline’s eyes gleamed with approval. "A true display of Castillo nobility, Elmira. Though I fear our Queen will only use the Don's favor to bully you for your kindness."

I stared at Elmira's gracious smile. She thought she was so clever, acquiring a vulnerable pawn to groom and use against me. She had no idea she had just invited a venomous snake into her bed.

"How generous of you, Elmira," I said softly, my eyes locking onto hers.

I walked past them without another word, my mind already drifting back to the last time Elmira had tried to play a deadly game of deception with me.

Siena POV

As I walked away from Elmira's sickeningly sweet smile in the Grand Foyer, my mind drifted to a memory from three months ago in the East Wing Suite.

Elmira had laced her own Earl Grey tea with a mild toxin, staging a pathetic frame-up to accuse me—the commoner Queen—of attempting to assassinate an Elder. She had wanted to use the Castillo bloodline to crush me.

But Dante hadn't even blinked. My Dark Don had simply unholstered his Glock, slamming the heavy metal onto the mahogany table with a deafening crack. *“If anyone touches my wife, I will have the Underboss and my Enforcers drag every maid in this wing to the Underground Interrogation Room. We will flay them alive until we find the truth.”*

Terrified by the sheer, suffocating bloodlust radiating from him, Elmira had immediately backed down, scapegoating a low-level Associate to save her own skin. Now, she thought she could outsmart me by using Chiara as her new pawn.

By noon, the battlefield shifted to the Formal Dining Room. Adeline had orchestrated a lavish luncheon, ostensibly to "teach" Chiara our rules, but truly to isolate me.

"It is a tragedy when youth and arrogance blind someone to the sacred Family Bond," Adeline drawled, swirling her expensive Bordeaux. She didn't look at me, but her target was obvious. Isabella smirked into her napkin, relishing the lecture. "A true Queen unites the bloodline; she doesn't trample it on a whim."

I scoffed, the sound slicing through the clinking of silver. I pushed my chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the marble floor. "Your hypocrisy is exhausting, Aunt Adeline. Enjoy your meal."

Before I could turn away, delicate fingers clamped onto my silk sleeve. Chiara looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with perfectly timed, unshed tears.

"Siena, please," she whimpered, her voice trembling with that familiar, sickening fragility. "Don't anger the Elders for my sake. I can bear the slums, I promise."

The sheer audacity of her performance made my blood run cold. This was the exact face she wore before the garrote wire tightened around my neck.

I didn't slap her. Instead, I flipped my hand, my fingers wrapping around her wrist like a vice. I squeezed until I felt the bones grind together, leaning down so my lips brushed her ear.

"One day," I whispered, my voice a demonic, hollow rasp meant only for her, "I will kill you with my own hands."

I released her abruptly. Chiara stumbled back, clutching her reddened wrist. The mask of the sweet victim shattered, replaced by raw, unadulterated shock. She stared at me as if looking at a monster, completely oblivious to the fact that she was the one who had created it.

I didn't wait for Adeline's inevitable praise of Chiara's "sacrifice." I walked out.

The adrenaline carried me all the way back to the Master Suite's Nursery. I needed silence. But the moment I stepped onto the plush wool rug, Maria, the Associate nanny, turned around with a bright smile.

In her arms was Leo. My five-month-old son, swaddled in expensive cashmere.

"He just woke up, *mia Regina*," Maria cooed, stepping toward me to present the heir. "Look who missed his mother."

She held him out.

*“I don't want a weak commoner for a mother!”*

The phantom wire sliced into my throat. White-hot fire exploded in my windpipe. I didn't see a pure, innocent infant. I saw the ten-year-old boy standing in the shadows of the interrogation room, his Castillo eyes dead and cold as he watched me choke on my own blood.

"No!" A raw, guttural scream tore from my throat.

I scrambled backward, my hip slamming violently into the vanity. Perfume bottles crashed to the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces. "Get him away! Get that monster away from me!"

Maria froze, her face draining of color. She clutched the baby to her chest, backing away in sheer terror. Sensing the panic, Leo began to wail, the high-pitched cries piercing my skull like shrapnel.

"My Queen!" Gia and Rosa rushed into the nursery, their eyes wide with alarm.

I couldn't breathe. I slid down the vanity, my knees hitting the floorboards amidst the broken glass. I curled into myself, trembling violently as the past and present collided in a horrifying mess. I didn't know how to look at the flesh and blood that had condemned me to hell.

In the suffocating darkness of my panic, my fractured mind craved only one thing. I needed Dante. I needed the terrifying, absolute protection of his arms, the only place in this blood-soaked world where the ghosts couldn't reach me.