NovelShort

《Underworld Heiress: Born to Burn》

I was trapped. Forced into a marriage with a man who didn’t even see me as human—just a pawn in a twisted game between families. Antonio didn’t love me. He didn’t even care. His heart was with Sofia, and I was nothing more than a bargaining chip. I was even shot at the planner’s office, and Antonio? He didn’t even flinch. Too busy with Sofia to give a second thought about me.

Chapter 1 - Betrayal in the Shadows

I hated him. Hated that he couldn’t care. Hated that he didn’t even look at me. But most of all, I hated that I still loved him.

After I recovered, I tried to leave, but my father shut me down. “You will marry tomorrow. This is not up for debate!” I couldn’t breathe. The rage boiled inside me. Trapped again. But then, I found out I was pregnant.

I was stuck. Scared. But I wasn’t going to stay down. I’d make them pay for everything they’d done to me. I’d burn it all to the ground.

But then everything shattered. I woke up in a hospital bed, six months later, with nothing. I’d lost my baby. My father was gone. I was alone.

Broken.

But then, my real father came into my life—Alexander Moretti, the world’s deadliest mafia king. He showed me the power I’d been born into. He showed me how to fight, how to survive, how to become someone who doesn’t get crushed.

I wasn’t done. I would make them pay. They would feel every ounce of pain they’d put me through. I would tear them apart, piece by piece. And when I was done, nothing would be left but their ruin.

The crowd erupted into applause as Marcus De Luca raised his glass. My father’s voice boomed through the grand hall, cutting through the chatter and laughter.

“Tonight, we celebrate the union of two great families,” he announced, his arm around my shoulder. “Isabella and Antonio, together, will lead us into a new era of peace.”

I tried to focus on the cheers and Antonio’s hand resting lightly on my body, but my heart was pounding for all the wrong reasons. From the corner of my eye, I caught Sofia glaring at me.

Antonio leaned in close, his breath brushing against my ear. “Smile, Isabella. This is your big moment.”

It wasn’t the comforting whisper I’d always dreamed of from him. Antonio Ricci had been my secret crush since college, back when I was just the quiet girl in the corner, watching him laugh with his friends. Back then, I thought he was untouchable. Now, he was mine—or at least, that’s what everyone wanted to believe.

As we stepped down from the stage, I was careful to avoid Sofia’s gaze. I didn’t want a scene, not tonight.

Too late.

A splash of cold, sticky wine hit my chest, the deep red staining the cream silk of my dress. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but no one moved to help me.

“Oh, no!” Sofia exclaimed, her voice dripping with false concern. She clutched her empty wine glass like an actress on stage. “I’m so clumsy. I didn’t mean to ruin your beautiful dress, Isabella.”

My hands trembled as I wiped at the stain. I knew what she was doing, but no one else seemed to care. The guests quickly turned back to their conversations, dismissing the incident as a harmless accident.

I forced a tight smile. “It’s fine, Sofia. Accidents happen.”

“Of course, they do,” she said sweetly, her eyes glinting with malice.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and headed upstairs to my room. The humiliation burned worse than the wine, and the memory of Antonio’s indifferent expression as it all happened twisted the knife even deeper.

Inside my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. I tore off the ruined dress and grabbed a simple black one from my closet. As I zipped it up, there was a sharp knock on the door.

Before I could answer, Sofia let herself in.

“What do you want?” I asked, glaring at her.

She shut the door behind her and crossed her arms. “I thought I’d properly introduce myself. Sofia Moretti. Antonio’s girlfriend.”

I froze, though her words didn’t surprise me. I’d known about Sofia long before tonight. Her smug Instagram posts, the whispers at parties—it wasn’t exactly a secret.

“I know who you are,” I said quietly, turning back to the mirror to adjust my dress.

“Oh, I bet you do,” she sneered. “You’ve been sniffing around Antonio since college, haven’t you? Poor little Isabella, always watching from the sidelines.”

I stiffened, but I refused to rise to her bait.

“You think wearing a ring is going to change anything?” Sofia continued, stepping closer. “He doesn’t love you. He never will. Antonio’s only doing this because it’s what his family wants.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides. “If that’s true, then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be off celebrating with him?”

Her face twisted in anger. “You don’t get it, do you? Antonio and I are meant to be together. You’re just a pawn in some ridiculous power play between our families.”

Her words cut deep, but I refused to let her see how much they hurt. Instead, I turned to face her, my expression calm.

“You’ve made your point, Sofia. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to return to.”

Her laughter was sharp and bitter. “Run along then, porcelain doll. Just remember, no matter what you do, you’ll never have him.”

Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. Antonio’s voice called from the other side.

“Sofia, are you in there?”

Sofia’s lips curled into a triumphant smile as she sauntered to the door. She opened it, and without a word, pulled Antonio into the room.

“Antonio,” she cooed, her hands finding his collar. Without hesitation, she kissed him in front of me, her lips pressed against his with all the force of a declaration.

I stood frozen, watching them, my breath caught in my throat. Antonio’s hand lingered on the doorframe, his eyes not meeting mine.

I felt my heart shatter into pieces, but I refused to let them see it.

Sofia broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at me with a victorious glint in her eyes. “See? Told you he’d never be yours.”

Chapter 2 - Shattered Masks

Antonio’s lips curved into a smirk as his dark eyes flicked to me, amusement written all over his face. It was like he enjoyed watching me fall apart.

But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

I squared my shoulders and let my expression harden, forcing myself to meet his gaze head-on. If he thought this was going to break me, he was sorely mistaken.

“Well,” I said coolly, gesturing toward the open door. “If you two want to continue your little... performance, I suggest you find another room. I’m sure you’ll feel much more comfortable somewhere else.”

Sofia’s grin faltered just a bit before she straightened and stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. “Better things to do, huh? Like what, Isabella? Make empty threats?”

Antonio’s lips twitched, clearly enjoying her little performance.

“Come on, Isabella,” Sofia sneered. “You’re not gonna call off this engagement. You wouldn’t dare. What are you without Daddy De Luca? Nothing.” She crossed her arms, the smugness radiating off her in waves.

I didn’t say anything, just stared at her, which seemed to make her mad even more.

“And let’s not forget,” she continued, her voice dripping with mockery, “you’re not even Marcus’s real daughter. You think you can waltz in here, playing perfect little mafia princess, and actually have a say in anything? Please.”

Antonio chuckled lowly, his eyes locking onto mine. “She’s not wrong, Isabella. You think you can just walk away from this? From me? You’re dreaming, Isabella.”

I took a slow, deep breath, keeping my face blank even though my chest felt like it was caving in.

“You’re both so sure of yourselves,” I said evenly. “But guess what? I don’t care.”

Sofia’s jaw dropped, but I wasn’t done.

“I don’t care what either of you think,” I continued, turning my attention to Antonio. “And I don’t care what my father thinks, either.”

Sofia let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, that’s cute. The porcelain doll thinks she’s grown a backbone.”

“Keep talking, Sofia,” I said with a shrug. “It won’t change anything.”

Antonio’s smirk dropped instantly. His whole demeanor shifted as he stepped closer, his jaw tight. “You’re not ending this,” he said, his voice sharper now.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why not? You don’t want this. I sure as certainly don’t want this. So what’s stopping me?”

In a flash, Antonio grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not rough. His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but every word hit like a punch to the gut. “You don’t get to call the shots, Isabella. You never did. And let’s not forget—you’re not even a real De Luca. You’re just a charity case, playing pretend in our world.”

My stomach twisted, but I kept my face neutral. No way was I letting him see how much that hurt.

He was right, of course. I wasn’t Marcus De Luca’s biological daughter. I’d known that since I was a teenager, but hearing it thrown in my face like this still stung.

“You’re right,” I said, my voice calm, even though my chest was burning. “I’m not a De Luca by blood. But that doesn’t mean you or anyone else gets to treat me like I don’t belong here.”

His jaw clenched, his grip tightening just slightly before he let go.

“And as for this engagement,” I continued, taking a step back, “tell my father whatever you want. I’ll make sure he knows exactly how I feel about it. If you and Sofia want to play house so badly, go for it. I’m done.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Sofia piped up, stepping beside him. “You’re bluffing. You can’t call it off, Isabella. You don’t have that kind of power.” She glanced at Antonio, smirking. “Right, babe?”

Antonio didn’t look at her. Instead, his gaze stayed on me, dark and intense.

“You’re not ending it,” he said again, his voice quieter this time but no less firm.

I yanked my arm out of his reach and gave him a tight smile. “Watch me.”

Chapter 3 - Blood Ties

The party was still in full swing when I stepped back into the grand hall. The music, the chatter, the laughter—it all grated on my nerves now. Every step felt heavier as I scanned the room for my father.

I found him by the bar counter, laughing with his business partners, a cigar in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. Marcus De Luca, the untouchable, the feared, the man who took me in and raised me like his own. Or so I thought.

I marched over, ignoring the curious glances from guests who noticed the tension radiating off me.

“Papa, I need to talk to you,” I said firmly, stopping beside him.

He barely glanced at me, too engrossed in his conversation. “Not now, Isabella,” he said dismissively, taking a sip of his drink. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“It’s important,” I insisted, my voice shaking despite my best effort to sound calm. “More important than my life.”

That got his attention. His sharp, dark eyes flicked to mine, narrowing slightly. “Gentlemen,” he said to his companions, his tone smooth and practiced. “Excuse me for a moment. My daughter seems to think the world is ending.”

They chuckled politely, and he gestured for me to follow him. We walked in silence to his study, the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floor echoing in the quiet corridor.

Once inside, he shut the door and turned to me, his expression hard. “What is it, Isabella? Speak.”

I stood my ground, even though my heart was racing. “I want to call off the engagement,” I said, my voice steady.

For a moment, he just stared at me, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Then his expression darkened.

“Are you out of your mind?” he growled.

“No, Papa,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’m finally thinking clearly. Antonio doesn’t love me, and I don’t want to marry someone who—”

He cut me off, his voice booming. “This isn’t about love! This is about loyalty, about family, about power! You think you can just walk away because you don’t feel like it?”

I took a step back, but I didn’t back down. “It’s not just that. Sofia—”

“Don’t you dare bring that woman into this,” he snapped. “Antonio is your fiancé. That’s the end of it.”

I clenched my fists, my frustration boiling over. “Why, Papa? Why are you so desperate to tie me to someone who doesn’t even respect me? I’m not your blood, remember? You’ve made that clear enough times.”

The slap came so fast I didn’t see it coming. The force of it sent me stumbling, my hand flying to my face as a sharp, metallic taste filled my mouth.

“You ungrateful little girl!” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “I gave you a life. I gave you my name. And this is how you repay me? By questioning me? By embarrassing me in front of our allies?”

Blood dripped from my nose, staining my dress, but I refused to let the tears fall. I straightened, glaring at him through the pain.

This wasn’t the first time he’d hit me. It wasn’t even the worst. I remembered being fifteen, sprinting home in the rain because I lost track of time at the library. Two minutes late. That’s all it took for him to drag me by my hair into the house and slap me until my cheek swelled.

“Time is respect,” he’d said that night, his voice calm, like he was teaching me a lesson. “And you will respect me.”

Even now, the memory made my stomach churn.

“You’re wrong,” I said quietly, my voice trembling but firm. “You didn’t give me a life. You gave me a role to play in yours. And I’m done.”

His hand twitched like he wanted to hit me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned away, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re not calling off the engagement!” his tone was cold and final. “If you try, you’ll regret it. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t answer.

“Do you understand me, Isabella?!”

“Y-yes, Papa,” I said, though my voice was barely above a whisper.

Satisfied, he gestured to the door. “Get out of my sight. And clean yourself up before you embarrass me further!”

I left the study without another word, my chest aching as much as my face. The party was still in full swing, the laughter and music a cruel reminder of the world I was trapped in.

As I passed by a mirror in the hallway, I caught a glimpse of myself—my swollen nose, the blood smeared across my lips, the fire still burning in my eyes.

Marcus De Luca may have raised me, but he didn’t own me.

Chapter 4 - Trapped in the Deal

The next morning came too quickly, dragging me back into the nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I was still nursing the sting on my face from last night as I stepped out of the house.

Antonio’s sleek black car was parked in the driveway, polished so well it reflected the morning sun. Behind it, two matte-black SUVs sat like silent sentinels, their dark-tinted windows giving nothing away.

He leaned casually against the hood, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that screamed money and power.

He looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine—like nothing in the world could touch him.

“Morning, Isabella,” he said with that smooth voice of his, opening the back door for me. “We’re meeting the wedding planner. The wedding’s happening soon. Your father and mine want it finalized.”

I swallowed hard, keeping my face neutral as I approached. “Right. Of course.”

As I climbed into the car, my stomach twisted. Sofia was already in the passenger seat, her long legs crossed.

She turned to me with a slow smirk, like she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Good morning, ‘future Mrs. Ricci’.”

I slid into the back seat, keeping my expression blank. “Good morning, Sofia,” I replied, my tone clipped.

“Oh, don’t be so stiff!” she turned around to face me. “We’re practically family now. Isn’t that exciting?”

Antonio climbed into the driver’s seat. He adjusted the rearview mirror and started the car without a word.

“Don’t mind me tagging along,” Sofia continued, “I just couldn’t resist. Weddings are such a beautiful thing, don’t you think?”

I folded my hands in my lap, refusing to take the bait. “They are,” I said simply, staring out the window.

Sofia let out a light laugh. “You’re so composed. I’d be a wreck if I were in your shoes. I mean, marrying a man who doesn’t even love you? That takes strength, Isabella.”

My face tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“Don’t worry…” Sofia added, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leaned closer. “I’ll make sure Antonio’s still… happy, even after you two are married.”

I met her gaze through the rearview mirror, keeping my expression cold. “I’m sure you will. But you might want to find a better dress for the job. That one looks like it’s falling apart.”

Her smirk faltered for just a second before she leaned back in her seat, pretending to adjust her strap. Antonio’s lips twitched, like he was trying not to react, but he still said nothing.

The tension in the car was suffocating, but I refused to let either of them see how much it bothered me. Let Sofia play her games. Let Antonio sit there in silence. I had my own plans, and they didn’t include sticking around for this circus any longer than I had to.

The car sped down the road, the hum of the engine the only sound as I stared out at the city rushing by.

When we arrived at the wedding planner’s office, Sofia practically skipped inside, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. The planner, a chic older woman with a clipboard and an air of authority, greeted us with a professional smile.

“You must be the happy couple!” she exclaimed, extending her hand to Sofia and Antonio.

I froze, my eyes widening as Sofia’s grin stretched even further.

“Oh, yes!” Sofia said, slipping her arm through Antonio’s. “We’re so thrilled to be working with you.”

Antonio said nothing, his usual smirk firmly in place, but he didn’t bother correcting her.

The planner beamed, completely missing my stunned silence. “You two look perfect together! Such a striking couple. I can’t wait to hear your vision for the big day.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Sofia beat me to it.

“I’m thinking classic elegance,” her voice dripping with enthusiasm. “White roses, gold accents, maybe even a live orchestra.”

The planner nodded, scribbling on her clipboard. “That sounds divine! And your dress, dear? Have you found the one?”

“Oh, not yet,” Sofia replied, stealing a quick glance at me. “But I’ve got a few ideas in mind.”

My jaw clenched, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Actually,” I said, cutting in, “I’m the BRIDE!”

The planner blinked, looking between me and Sofia in confusion.

“Oh,” she said, her smile faltering for the first time. “My apologies. I… I just assumed...”

“She gets that a lot,” Sofia interrupted smoothly, “Isabella’s so shy, she doesn’t like all the attention. Isn’t that right?”

I shot her a glare, but before I could respond, Antonio stepped forward, his hand on Sofia’s back. “Let’s just get started,” he said, his voice dismissive.

The planner nodded quickly, eager to move past the awkward moment. “Of course. Right this way.”

Sofia sauntered ahead, still holding onto Antonio like they were the ones getting married. I followed behind them, my frustration bubbling under the surface.

By the time we sat down to discuss the details, it was clear Sofia had no intention of stepping aside. She chimed in on everything—flowers, food, music—making it seem like this was her wedding and I was just a guest.

“And for the first dance,” she said, twirling a lock of her hair, “something romantic but not too slow. Maybe a classic like Fly Me to the Moon.”

The planner nodded, jotting it down. “And you, Isabella? Any preferences?”

I hesitated, feeling all their eyes on me. “I’m fine with whatever,” I said quietly, not wanting to make a scene. I'm so done by the way.

The wedding planner’s pen hovered mid-air, waiting for me to finish, but I didn’t get the chance.

Shouts erupted outside, followed by a loud noise that echoed through the building!