The Mafia Princess Is Back

I was the eldest daughter of the Costa crime family until an engineered car crash killed me three years ago. When I opened my eyes again, to my shock, three years had passed. I had been reborn. For three years, hatred had blinded my three brothers, and they had welcomed our true enemy as family. They trusted Elizabeth, the woman who copied my every move, without question. They let her join forces with our enemies and gut the Costa Family from within. Fools. Since I was given a second life, I would set everything right. Rebuilding the Family would start with my youngest brother, Nick, the Wall Street prodigy. Chapter 1 Manhattan. The sixty-eighth floor of Morati Capital's headquarters. The conference room at the end of the hallway had frosted glass doors, and the silhouettes of several people were barely visible inside. "I said four hundred million, through a private channel. No risk review!" Nick's voice was so cold and hard that it sounded foreign to me. Three years ago, he had been a college kid who blushed when he asked me for pocket money. Now every syllable he spoke had a venomous, metallic bite. "Sir, Lockwood is nothing but a shell company. You can't do this for that woman..." "Shut up!" Nick's roar slammed against the glass walls. "Elizabeth is the only person who's been truly good to me these past three years! Who are you to question her?" Elizabeth. The name drove into my eardrums like a needle. In the three years I'd been gone, the cousin who used to copy my every move had somehow gained enough influence to make my brother this stupid and stubborn. Good thing I came back in time. I pushed the door open. Nick sat at the head of the long table, his shirt collar loosened, dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in three days. He held a pen poised just above the contract's signature line. Without a word, I marched over and snatched the contract. "Four hundred million for a fifty-one percent stake in Lockwood Port Holdings." I scoffed, grabbed his ear, and twisted it hard. "Nick Costa, three years on Wall Street and all you've learned is how to be a sucker?" In that instant, everyone in the room froze as if a hand had closed around their throats. Nick looked up in fury, his pupils contracting sharply. The pen slipped from his fingers, bounced once on the glass tabletop, and rolled to the floor. I ignored him and tapped the third clause. "A legitimate port company routing payments to an offshore trust?" I glanced at Nick. "What? Afraid someone might actually trace where your money is going?" His expression shifted from initial shock to something I had never seen before. A near-savage darkness settled over his features. I didn't bother with him and moved on to clause seven. "The closing condition requires the target company to own at least three cargo vessels of ten thousand tons or above. Do you even know how many ships Lockwood actually has behind those spotless financials? I'll tell you. Zero." I slammed the contract onto the table, the sound cracking through the room like a slap. "Four hundred million dollars for a shell company's mailing address. Nick, are you running a charity, or laundering money for the enemy?" Everyone sat as if nailed to their chairs, their eyes darting between me and Nick. "Get out," I told the six executives. Nobody moved. "Get out." This time, it was Nick who said it. His voice was low, but every word sounded like it had been ground through clenched teeth. The six executives practically launched from their seats. Chairs scraped across the floor with a harsh screech as they scrambled out the door. The moment the door shut, Nick rose from his chair. "Come on, Nicky!" I grabbed him by the collar, yanked him aside, and sat down in his place. "Explain why you were about to sign that contract." But there was no trace of joy in Nick's eyes, only fury packed so tight it was about to explode. "Who gave you permission to show up here with her face?" Chapter 2 His voice was raw and hoarse, the last syllables trembling. "How dare you make yourself look like her and stand in front of me?" I stayed seated, unfazed. Anyone in his position would struggle to believe I had been reborn. Nick's bloodshot eyes locked onto me, searching my face for any flaw that would prove I was a fake. "Who sent you?" He reached out, veins bulging on the back of his hand. "Who would stoop to a trick this filthy?" "Nick Costa." I called him by his full name, stood up, and smacked him hard on the forehead. That was how I always punished him when he misbehaved as a kid. He flinched, and his anger deepened. "When you were seven, you stole my pearl necklace and broke one of the beads," I said calmly. "You were so scared you hid under the olive tree in the garden and cried. I dragged you out, and you promised you'd buy me a better one someday." "Then you picked up the biggest pearl and carved the letter N on it with a pocketknife." Nick's fingers froze in midair, trembling slightly. "From that day on, every one of your account passwords has been 140815. Fourteen for N's position in the alphabet. 0815 for my birthday." "You've changed your systems countless times, but you've never changed that string of numbers." These were secrets that belonged only to the two of us. The rims of his eyes reddened, but doubt still flickered in his gaze. "There's a faint scar on the inside of your left wrist." I revealed a detail no one else knew. "In college, when you first entered the stock market, someone set you up. You were so desperate that day you tried to cut yourself. I took the box cutter out of your hand and told you that a Costa can lose, but a Costa never kneels." "You've always hidden that scar under your watch. Even Seth and Pierre have never seen it." "The day of Mom's funeral, you stood in front of the tombstone without moving, like a stone." I took half a step closer and looked up at him. "I tugged at your sleeve, and you said one thing. You said..." "Don't leave me." Nick's hand finally dropped, covering his eyes. He stood there, shoulders shaking violently, a choked sob wrenching from deep in his chest. "It's really you..." He reached out with both arms, moving slowly, as if testing whether I would vanish like smoke. The moment he wrapped his arms around me, his scalding tears slid down my collarbone. "Sis!" He finally believed in the miracle. I patted his shoulder to soothe him. "All right, stop crying. What I want to know is how Elizabeth gained this much control over your decisions. Why would you sign a contract that's basically a death warrant?" Nick let go of me, covering his face with both hands. Through his fingers, I could see his ears had turned bright red. "Our aunt, Anna Costa, died after an illness three years ago," Nick said, his voice still hoarse. "Elizabeth had no one to look after her, so Seth let her move into the estate." He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing. "At first, she only helped with the housework. Then Seth became Don, and Pierre became an award-winning actor. They were both so busy that she gradually took charge of everyone's daily life." "Cooking, cleaning, scheduling." His voice dropped lower. "We were devastated then. Under so much pressure we couldn't sleep through the night. She stayed by our side day and night. She said she understood because she'd lost someone important too. You know how she always liked to imitate you growing up, and... and she looks a little like you." I crossed my arms and leaned against the edge of the desk, watching him. "So the three of you revolved around her and made her into my replacement." Nick didn't deny it. His fingers gripped the armrest until his knuckles turned white. "You were three lost puppies without your big sister, desperate enough to drag home any stick that looked like a bone." Nick bowed his head under the scolding and didn't dare talk back. "She's living in the estate now?" "Yes. The room next to the master bedroom. It used to be your dressing room. Seth had it converted into a bedroom for her." "How does Seth treat her?" Nick was silent for a moment. "He depends on her the most." "After you died, Seth changed completely. He couldn't find who was responsible, so his temper got worse and worse. Now he can kill without batting an eye." "Elizabeth is the only one who can calm him down. She brews his coffee, sits in on his meetings. Sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night and can't sleep, she sits in his study with him until dawn. Seth said that seeing her is like seeing you still here." "What about Pierre?" "Pierre is even more obvious. Every time he comes back from set, the first thing he does is look for Elizabeth. She listens to him talk about what he filmed, who he fought with, what awards he won. In his Oscar acceptance speech last year, he said, 'Thank you to someone who makes me feel like my family is still here.' He was talking about her." I listened, tapping one finger against the desk. "So the situation now," I summarized, "is that my scheming cousin is living in my house, sleeping in the room next to mine, and has trained my three brothers into lapdogs." "Seth trusts her. Pierre treats her as his emotional anchor. And you nearly burned through the family fortune for her." Nick hung his head even lower. "I never doubted her. She said she'd already vetted the company, and once we took over Lockwood, we could join forces against the Reese family and find out who killed you." "She's twisted the truth!" I clenched my fists. "The Reese family may be our longtime rivals, but they play by their own rules. My crash was definitely not their doing!" "But Vincent Lockwood is cunning and ruthless. He could easily have been behind it!" "This is bad. Just yesterday she was pushing Pierre to sign a contract for a reality show. Who knows if there's another scheme behind that!" Nick looked at me anxiously. I reached over and patted his back. "We're fine now." I gave a cold smile. "Now that I'm back, we'll settle every score, one by one." "Now tell Pierre to get his ass home. Right now!" Chapter 3 Costa Estate, 3:40 p.m. I sat in the armchair at the far end of the living room, my back to the front door, facing the staircase. From this angle, I had a clear view of the entryway and the entire living room. The rumble of an engine grew louder, and Pierre was the first one through the door. His black shirt was unbuttoned to the third button, his hair looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed, and his sunglasses were pushed up on his head. His handsome face was set in a scowl that dared anyone to challenge him. "Nick, get your ass out here!" He hadn't noticed me and shouted toward the second floor. "How dare you joke about Sis? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He was the most straightforward person in the family, which was probably why he had gone into acting. Unfortunately, he also happened to have the worst temper of them all. "Where's the contract?" His voice boomed through the entire building. "Stop screwing around. I've still got three hours of shooting left!" Elizabeth followed close behind him, a folder tucked under her arm and a carefully calibrated gentle smile on her face. But the instant she crossed the threshold and her eyes swept to me on the sofa, she froze as if she'd been electrocuted. The folder slipped from her fingers. She scrambled to clutch it, her knuckles turning white. Her expression flipped from composure to terror to forced calm in a single beat, as if the stage crew had missed its cue. Pierre didn't notice her reaction. He strode to the coffee table and slapped his hand down on it. "The contract! Hand it over!" "Pierre..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, with a tremor of panic so faint it was almost impossible to hear. "Maybe... maybe we should sign it another day?" "Like hell." Pierre grabbed a pen and bit the cap between his teeth. "Didn't you say you handpicked this show for me?" he said, words muffled by the pen cap. "When have I ever backed down from something you asked me to do?" He uncapped the pen, the tip hovering above the signature line. With a sharp smack, I knocked the pen to the floor. The next second, I grabbed a fistful of his carefully styled hair and forced him to look up at me. In that instant, the arrogance on his face drained away as if doused with a bucket of ice water. "S-Sis?" The disbelief in his eyes turned to shock in an instant, then was swallowed by a near-manic fury. "Who the hell—" Before he could finish, I yanked hard. His whole body was forced to bend forward, scalp stinging from the pull. "Pierre Costa, I see you still haven't cleaned up that filthy mouth. You're really asking for a beating." I leaned down to meet his eyes, and Pierre's pupils trembled violently. His mouth hung open, and a broken gasp escaped his throat. "That grip... it's exactly the same. You... you're really my sister?" Elizabeth stood by the coffee table, the folder in her hands crushed out of shape. She stepped forward, her voice suddenly rising, laced with a deliberate, nearly shrill tremor. "Pierre, you're the easiest one to fool. How can you be sure this is Aria? You know how many people have tried to impersonate her!" Pierre's body stiffened. He was clearly wavering. Just as he tried to lift his head, I slammed my palm on the coffee table. "Kneel!" Pierre's knees buckled on pure reflex, and he dropped straight to the floor in front of me. Growing up under my discipline, some habits had been ingrained so deeply they'd become instinct. He looked up at me, tears streaming down his face, but his lips twisted into a smile so strained it was almost grotesque. It was the same placating grin he used to wear as a kid after he got caught doing something wrong. "Sis..." His voice splintered. "You... you really fucking came back!" He lunged forward, arms wrapping around my waist, shoulders heaving violently as a choked, guttural sob tore from deep within his chest. Elizabeth's face went ashen. Every word came out barbed. "Pierre! Snap out of it! You watched your sister get buried with your own eyes. How could she come back from the dead? Don't let that face fool you!" She turned to me, looking like she wanted to tear me apart alive. "You had surgery to look like Aria. What are you really after?!" Chapter 4 Pierre raised his head, tears still on his face, uncertainty clouding his eyes. I looked at Elizabeth, at the carefully maintained mask of gentleness on her face, and suddenly smiled. It was the kind of smile all three brothers knew well. The one I wore right before a beating. "Pierre." I released him and stepped back. "Stand up." Pierre obeyed and got to his feet. All six-foot-two of him stood before me with red-rimmed eyes, like a sapling battered by a storm but stubbornly upright again. "Elizabeth has a point," I said, looking at Pierre. "So how do I prove it? Let me ask you this. When you were twenty and came home with your first acting award, you snuck into my room at two in the morning and placed the trophy on my pillow. What did you say?" Pierre's pupils contracted sharply. His throat tightened. "I said... Sis, half of this belongs to you." I stepped closer. "Then you talked me into trading you one of my old gowns. You called it your lucky charm, wore it for three days straight, and refused to take it off." His ears turned red. "And there's more." I grabbed Pierre by the collar and pulled him close. "There's a one-inch scar on your thigh. You fell from the floor above and needed seven stitches. You were terrified Dad would scold you. How did I cover for you?" Pierre's tears surged again, and his voice shook uncontrollably. "You told him you'd taken me swimming at night and I'd banged my leg on something. You took a slap from Dad for me." Elizabeth's expression shifted. These were things no one knew. Not even her. Elizabeth gritted her teeth. "Pierre! Think! She could be a spy from the Reese family. She could've tricked someone into telling her all this..." "Bullshit!" Pierre roared. "Not even Seth knows about the scar on my thigh. Who could she have tricked into telling her?" "That still doesn't prove she's Aria! We all saw her body! What, did she turn into a ghost?" Elizabeth was hysterical, as if she'd been bitten by a snake. Just then, the front door swung open. Nick walked in with his suit jacket draped over his arm, his face cold as ice. "Looks like I'm right on time." Nick tossed an envelope onto the coffee table with a heavy thud. "Elizabeth, I think you're the one who needs to explain." Elizabeth's chest heaved. "What's this about, Nick? Don't tell me you've been fooled by this imposter too." "Shut up!" Nick walked to the coffee table and opened the envelope. "She is our sister!" "Whether you believe it or not, she's back!" He pulled out a stack of transfer records and spread them in front of Elizabeth. "In the past year, you've had Pierre sign contracts for seven endorsements, three films, and two reality shows." Nick's voice was cold as ice. "You skimmed fifteen percent from every commission and wired it straight to your offshore account. Forty-seven million dollars in total." He looked up at Elizabeth with the cold indifference of someone who had seen through everything. "You pushed Pierre to sign on for the reality show Bloodline because Lockwood's people were financing it." Nick spoke each word with deliberate weight. "You sweet-talked Pierre into signing this contract not to repair his public image, but to give Lockwood's people legitimate access to the estate, let them spy on the Costa Family's secrets, and make it easier for you to siphon off the Family's assets." Every last drop of color drained from Elizabeth's face. "That can't be..." Pierre stared at her in disbelief. "Pierre, remember three months ago when Elizabeth asked you to give her authority over every property in your name for an asset review? She was actually trying to transfer them into her own name!" Pierre's body went rigid. "That's not true." Elizabeth's voice shook. "I would never do that. Nick, why are you making these false accusations?!" "If it's false, we'll know once we look into it." I walked over and stood in front of Elizabeth. "Check everything now. Every account linked to her name, every offshore account, her call logs, her contacts. Check every last detail!" "Pierre." Elizabeth's voice softened again, a wounded tremor running through it. "Are you really going to trust them over me? Have you forgotten everything I've done for you these past three years?" Pierre looked at her, then took a step back, putting distance between them. "I remember," he said, his voice quiet but every word clear. "You stayed up with me through three all-nighters editing footage. You listened to me talk about every rejection. You cried the day I won the award and said they were tears of joy for Sis." "But if all of that was only meant to exploit my weaknesses, then it wasn't kindness. It was manipulation." "Think about it, Elizabeth. Every kindness you've shown us was too calculated!" Elizabeth took a step back. She looked at Pierre, then at me, and finally at the transfer records in Nick's hands. "I'm going to Seth. He'll see how his idiot brothers are ganging up on me over an imposter!" She spun around and glared at me. "You'll never fool Seth. He's the Don of this family! Let's see how far that face gets you when he arrives!" She practically bolted out the front door. Chapter 5 Pierre watched her go, then turned to me, a lingering nasal edge in his voice. "Sis... what do we do about her going to Seth?" "Let her." I sat back down on the sofa and crossed my legs. "I'd love to see what stories she can spin in front of Seth." "Sis." His voice dropped. "Was I... really that stupid?" "Yes." I didn't mince words. "She played you for three years, and you were still helping her do it. Is that Oscar of yours only good for propping up furniture?" Pierre hung his head, ears flushed bright red, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He raised his head and looked at me, that familiar dependence in his eyes. "Elizabeth is going to turn the whole story on its head when she talks to Seth." Nick came and sat on my other side. One brother on each side, like two silent towers. "Sis." Nick's voice was low. "Seth... he might not listen to our explanation." "Won't listen?" I watched the sky darkening outside the window, a cold smile curling my lips. "Then I'll beat him until he does!" The three of us had dinner together in high spirits, with Nick and Pierre taking turns telling me about everything that had happened over the years. The more I heard, the more alarmed I became. Elizabeth had her hands in so many of the Family's businesses. This was not just about greed. On one hand, she had subtly manipulated all three brothers into treating the Reese family as the enemy, even implying that my car accident was connected to them. On the other hand, openly and behind the scenes, she had been paving the way for the Lockwoods and helping them infiltrate our inner circle. It was deeply suspicious. I was still turning it over in my mind when I heard the rumble of a motorcade outside the front door. The door swung open, and the current Don of the Costa Family, my own brother Seth Costa, strode in with a glacial expression. "I hear you two have been taken in by some woman who's had plastic surgery." His gaze swept over me as if he were sizing up a corpse. "You dare impersonate my dead sister?" Every fiber of his being radiated fury. "You must have a death wish!" Before he finished speaking, I was already in front of him. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. Twice. "Seth Costa, I have a question for you. Is this what you call protecting your brothers while I've been gone?!" Seth stood frozen in place.