

Aurelia Rossi gave up her identity for love and married Mafia Don Vittorio Falcone, sacrificing everything to build his empire. But when her best friend Carina betrays her and Vittorio chooses another woman, Aurelia loses everything—including the child she carried.Broken but awakened, Aurelia leaves the man who never valued her, returns to the powerful Rossi family, and chooses the man who has always protected her.But on her wedding day, Carina strikes again, leaving Aurelia with lost memories. With Orion’s love and patience, Aurelia must reclaim her past and finally leave her painful history behind.

On the night before the wedding, my fiancé suddenly asked me to give up the ceremony for his first love, Sofia. I turned it down cold in my former life, only to become the Chicago mob’s godmother at a lavish wedding. When Sofia heard the news, she was heartbroken and jumped into the sea to take her own life. Vincent blamed me for Sofia’s death. For the next thirty years, the words he said to me most often were: “Elena, if I had married Sofia that day, she wouldn't have died.” On his deathbed, he told our children: “Don’t bury me with Elena.” The year after he died, I fell gravely ill and passed away. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night before the wedding. Over the phone, Vincent's voice came again: "Sofia needs this title more than you do. Everyone knows I love you, so they respect you—but Sofia's different. She's just a poor orphan girl..." Before he could finish, I calmly replied, “Fine, I agree.” I turned and signed the papers to cut ties with the family. I flew to Sicily, home to the Salk Institute that I had always looked up to. In this life, I refuse to be his appendage.

It is said that Marco Colombo, the heir of the Colombo family of Chiron, is holding a wedding for his mistress, Gina Bilotti, today. The scale is ten times grander than when he marries Isabella Pratico in a political union. I lean against the ebony railing on the second floor. Sipping my red wine, I watch the lively scene of clinking glasses and mingling guests below with quiet amusement. Gina is definitely favored—she is even wearing a ruby necklace. One should know that set of ruby jewelry is an heirloom of the Colombo family. It is something only the Donna and the wife of the heir are allowed to wear. "You must be Isabella, the one Marco who does not love." A voice suddenly comes from beside me. I turn my head and see the woman wearing the ruby necklace before me. Gina has come up to the second floor at some point and is now looking at me with a cunning smile on her face. I freeze for a moment, not yet able to respond. She suddenly grabs my hand and yanks it hard toward herself. There is a sharp tearing sound, and the hem of her wedding dress rips open with a long tear. Gina lets out a cry, and tears immediately stream down her face. "Mrs. Colombo, why did you tear my wedding dress? Marco specially commissioned this from an independent designer just for our wedding! "If you really cannot tolerate my presence, then I will break up with Marco today and leave Chiron…" The surrounding guests all lift their heads and glare at me angrily. I am stunned because I am not Isabella. I am the new wife of Marco's father, the woman of the current Don, and the Donna of the Colombo family.

In my last life, I was Adrian Moretti’s wife for ten years. Everyone said he loved me. They called me the luckiest woman in Chicago’s mafia world. Then I overheard him making his will. The Moretti shares, offshore trusts, and port revenue would all go to Noah, the boy I had raised with my own hands. The son Adrian had with Celeste, the woman he had loved before me. He had even chosen to be buried beside her, not me. That was when I finally understood. Ten years of marriage, and I was nothing but a replacement paving the way for his first love and their son. That night, I died in a car crash. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Adrian had to choose his wife. Everyone thought he would choose me. Even the old Donna smiled and said, “Adrian used to follow Elena everywhere when he was little.” But when I looked up, I caught the flash of disgust in Adrian’s eyes. I understood at once. He had been reborn too. Since you never wanted me in either life, I’ll step aside this time. Before Adrian could say a word, I stood and bowed to the old Don and Donna of the Moretti family. “Godfather. Ma’am. I’m stepping aside.”

In my last life, I was Adrian Moretti’s wife for ten years. Everyone said he loved me. They called me the luckiest woman in Chicago’s mafia world. Then I overheard him making his will. The Moretti shares, offshore trusts, and port revenue would all go to Noah, the boy I had raised with my own hands. The son Adrian had with Celeste, the woman he had loved before me. He had even chosen to be buried beside her, not me. That was when I finally understood. Ten years of marriage, and I was nothing but a replacement paving the way for his first love and their son. That night, I died in a car crash. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Adrian had to choose his wife. Everyone thought he would choose me. Even the old Donna smiled and said, “Adrian used to follow Elena everywhere when he was little.” But when I looked up, I caught the flash of disgust in Adrian’s eyes. I understood at once. He had been reborn too. Since you never wanted me in either life, I’ll step aside this time. Before Adrian could say a word, I stood and bowed to the old Don and Donna of the Moretti family. “Godfather. Ma’am. I’m stepping aside.”

The night before our wedding, my mother needed a fifty-thousand-dollar emergency deposit for surgery. I went to my fiancé, Major Adrian Hayes, hoping he would listen before it was too late. He only saw the number. He paid the deposit in the end, but something between us broke that night. That money became the beginning of every name he would ever use against me. After that, every time I asked him for help, he sent me one hundred dollars. When I was in a car accident, he sent one hundred dollars. When I begged him to attend my mother’s funeral, he sent one hundred dollars. Eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant. I sent him seventy-seven voice messages, desperate to tell him we were having a baby. He never listened. He only sent seventy-seven payments of one hundred dollars. Later, when I started bleeding and was rushed into emergency surgery, I called Adrian and begged him to come to the hospital, to answer the doctors, to save our child. He sent one hundred dollars again. At the same time, Madeline’s Instagram story showed Adrian in his dress uniform beside her at a lavish officers’ charity gala. The comments all treated them like the perfect match. I stared at the screen until my hand went numb. I was begging for him from the edge of an emergency room while he stood under chandeliers beside another woman, looking as if he had already found the wife he wanted. By the time Adrian finally turned his phone back on, his staff officer’s voice was shaking. “Major Hayes... your wife and the baby did not make it.” And in that moment, Adrian went feral.