I Left the Mafia Heir Before I Died a Tenth Time

Adrian gets behind the wheel without another word. The heater comes on. A towel lands on my face. I blink, pull it down, and look at him. He is already staring through the windshield. For three years, this is how Adrian takes care of me. Never gently. Never with an explanation. He just gives me whatever he thinks I need and expects me to understand. Rain darkens the shoulder of his coat, so out of habit, I reach over with the towel. Adrian turns his head. “What are you doing?” Before I can answer, the voice in my stomach shrieks. “No, no, no. Here we go again.” My hand freezes. “Next she sees Bianca’s little gift in the car, grabs the wheel, and nearly crashes us.” I slowly turn toward the dashboard. A small wooden charm hangs near the center console. A single letter is carved into it: B. Bianca. My chest tightens. “She breaks it,” the baby continues miserably. “Dad throws her out of the car. Again.” I put the towel in my lap. Adrian watches me for another second, then snatches it from my hand and tosses it back at me. “It was for you.” “Oh.” His jaw tightens. I dry my hair. I don’t touch the charm. I don’t ask why Bianca’s gift is still in his car. I don’t ask where he was before he came to find me. Apparently, silence annoys Adrian more than screaming ever did. “You’ve got nothing to say?” I keep my eyes on the window. “About what?” He gives a short, humorless laugh. “Forget it.” At the next turn, the voice starts counting. “Three.” My fingers curl into my coat. “Two.” The wooden charm swings slightly. “One.” I stay exactly where I am. Nothing happens. The baby goes quiet. Then another voice speaks. Lower. Calmer. “She changed it.” I jerk upright. There are two voices. The first one sounds offended. “I noticed.” “You said she’d grab the wheel.” “She always grabs the wheel!” I stare down at my stomach. Twins. I’m carrying twins. And somehow both of them remember watching me die nine times. I press a hand to my stomach. Whatever happened in those nine lives, and however badly I once wanted Adrian, I’m not letting it happen again. This time, these babies are going to be born. I reach for the door. The first baby sighs. “Pretty building.” The second answers, “Doesn’t mean much. Dad still never took her home to meet the Russo family.” My hand stops on the handle. In three years, Adrian has given me jewelry, cars, vacations—almost anything I pointed at. But not once has he taken me home. Not once has he introduced me to the Russo family. Adrian glances over. “Claire?” I open the door. For the first time, I understand the difference between being spoiled— and being chosen.

“Claire.” I’m halfway out of the car when Adrian calls me back. I turn. He rests one hand on the steering wheel, his expression unreadable. “If anyone from my family contacts you, don’t answer.” I blink. “What?” “The Russos. If any of them call, text, or send someone to see you, stay away from them.” The warning should make me nervous. Instead, the first voice in my stomach gives a bitter little laugh. “Because Bianca’s back. Guess who gets to meet the family now?” My face goes cold. Adrian notices. His brows pull together. “Did you hear me?” Normally, I would demand an explanation. Why can Bianca stand beside him while I’m kept outside? Why does the woman who just came back get the place I never had after three years? Tonight, I only nod. “Got it.” Adrian stares at me. “That’s it?” “What else do you want me to say?” His mouth tightens. “Nothing.” I close the door and walk toward the building. Behind me, his phone rings. I shouldn’t listen. I do anyway. Adrian answers, and the hard edge in his voice disappears. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’m coming.” The baby groans. “Bianca.” I keep walking. By the time I reach the elevator, my eyes burn. Fine. If Adrian wants his first love, he can have her. I just want to stay alive. That night, he never comes over. By midnight, I’m running a fever from standing in the rain. In every other life, according to the twins, I call Adrian over and over until he comes to take care of me. This time, I don’t call once. At two in the morning, I open my work email instead. A message from my manager is still sitting there: a two-year assignment in the Los Angeles office. He offered it to me last week. I turned it down because I didn’t want to leave Adrian for two years. Now I stare at the screen through a fever haze. Then I hit Accept. The next morning, I wake to thirteen missed calls. All from Adrian. I call him back. He answers on the first ring. “Where the hell have you been?” I pull the blanket tighter around me. “Sleeping.” “Get to Russo Holdings. Now.” The line goes dead. An hour later, I step into Adrian’s office with a fever and a pounding headache. My manager is there. So is Bianca. She’s sitting beside Adrian’s desk in a cream suit, looking perfectly at home. When she sees me, she smiles. “Claire. It’s been forever.” Ten years, actually. We were friends in high school. That feels like another life now. “Hi, Bianca.” Adrian drops his phone onto the desk. The sound makes me flinch. “This isn’t a reunion.” His eyes move to me. Then he slides a file across the desk. “The Los Angeles account is no longer yours.” For a second, I forget I even have a fever. I stare at him. “What?” “I’m giving it to Bianca.” The room goes silent. I spent six months building that account. Late nights. Client calls. Every proposal revised until it was right. Adrian knows that. He knows exactly what this costs me. And he does it anyway.

“What do you mean, you’re giving it to Bianca?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to. “I’ve handled that account for six months.” Adrian leans back in his chair. “And now you won’t.” “That’s it?” I can feel my temper rising. He knows how many nights I stayed at Russo Holdings until midnight. He knows I built that client relationship from nothing. Adrian stands. “Bianca is more careful than you. Her résumé is stronger, and she has more experience.” His eyes stay on mine. “So tell me, Claire. Why should I leave the account with you?” The words hit harder than they should. The first baby immediately panics. “Oh no. This is where Mom flips the whole office.” The second voice follows. “Then she hits Bianca. Dad shoves her away, and she crashes into a glass table.” My fingers go cold. I look at Bianca. Then Adrian. In another life, maybe I screamed. This time, I force myself to breathe. “You’re the boss,” I say. “You’ve already decided.” Something changes in Adrian’s expression. But before he can say anything, he turns to my manager. “Bianca takes Claire’s position in Business Development.” My stomach drops. “And Claire is being moved back to a junior role.” For a second, I think I misheard him. It took me three years to earn that position. Bianca gets it in one morning. Bianca loops her arm through Adrian’s. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you.” Then she smiles. “And thank you for last night too.” Adrian glances at me before resting a hand briefly on her shoulder. “You’ll do fine.” I leave before either of them can see my eyes burn. By noon, I’ve lost my private office too. I carry my things to a dusty desk in the corner of the department. My phone rings. Mom. The second I answer, she starts praising Bianca. “She came by yesterday with gifts for your father and me. Such a thoughtful girl.” I stare at my new desk. I buy them things all the time, only to watch half of it sit unopened until it expires. Bianca shows up once with gifts, and suddenly she’s perfect. After five minutes, I hang up. Then I open a blank document. For the first time today, my hands don’t shake. I type two words. My resignation.

I print my resignation letter and slide it into a folder. Before I can take it to my manager, he appears beside my desk. “Adrian wants to see you.” Of course he does. I tuck the folder into my bag and head toward the elevators. Out of habit, I step toward the executive elevator. The scanner flashes red. Access denied. I stand there for a second. Yesterday, I could use it whenever I wanted. Today, even the elevator knows I’ve been replaced. When I finally reach Adrian’s office, Bianca is giving him a presentation. He listens carefully. When she makes a mistake, he corrects her quietly. When I made mistakes, he never sounded that patient. Bianca spots me first. “Claire, you’re here.” Adrian looks up. His eyes narrow when he sees my face. “You look terrible. Are you sick?” “No.” Just a fever. And the small problem of watching Bianca take over the career I spent three years building. “What did you need, Mr. Russo?” His hand stills on the mouse. I never call him that. Not even at work. His expression hardens. “Stay away from Bianca’s accounts.” I almost laugh. “And don’t attend the Moretti client dinner today.” My fingers tighten around my bag. That account is mine too. I’ve spent three months building it. But I remember the twins. “I understand.” I turn around. Inside me, the first baby whispers, “She’s really different.” The calmer one isn’t convinced. “She changed for two days in the sixth life too.” “And then?” “She went right back to Dad and died anyway.” My steps slow. “Until she actually leaves New York, I’m not celebrating.” Back at my desk, I reach for my resignation letter. My phone buzzes first. A message from the Moretti account. Claire, we expect you at lunch. You’re the one who built this deal. I stare at the message. I can walk away from Adrian. I can walk away from Russo Holdings. But after three months on this deal, I’m not ready to abandon my own work without even seeing it through one last lunch. So I reply. I’ll be there. At noon, I walk into the private dining room. Then I stop. The Moretti executives are there. So are Adrian’s parents. And from the way Mrs. Russo looks at me, I already know— I was never supposed to be here.

No one asks me to leave. Somehow, that’s worse. Mrs. Russo looks me over once, from my shoes to my face, then turns away. Mr. Russo barely acknowledges me. After three years with Adrian, this is the closest I’ve ever come to sitting at a table with his family—and I’m not here as his girlfriend. I’m here as an employee they clearly don’t respect. Mr. Moretti pulls out the chair beside him. “Claire. Sit here.” I hesitate, then take the seat. He leans closer than necessary. “Russo Holdings has been hiding its best asset.” His eyes move slowly over me. “Smart and beautiful.” My stomach turns. Normally, I would tell him exactly where he can put that compliment. My hand tightens around my glass. The first twin starts screaming. “No. Mom, don’t do it!” I go still. “This is the dinner where she smashes a glass over his head.” The second twin sounds grim. “The deal falls apart. The Russos blame Mom and send her to an overseas branch.” My fingers loosen around the glass. “And then?” The second twin goes quiet for a beat. “She dies there alone.” I put the glass down. Mr. Moretti mistakes my silence for permission. His chair shifts closer. His knee brushes mine under the table. I immediately move away. He smiles. “Relax. We’re all friends here.” Across the table, neither of Adrian’s parents says a word. There was a time I would have expected Adrian to protect me from something like this. Not anymore. No one is coming. I just have to get through lunch and leave. Mr. Moretti leans toward me again. “You know, Claire, maybe we should discuss the account somewhere more private.” My nails bite into my palm. I repeat the only three things that matter: don’t react, don’t ruin the deal, and don’t die again. Then— The door slams open hard enough to hit the wall. Every conversation stops. I turn. Adrian stands in the doorway. His face is terrifyingly calm. His eyes move from Mr. Moretti— to me. Then his expression turns black.

Adrian crosses the room in three strides. His hand closes around my wrist. “Outside.” I barely have time to stand before he pulls me toward the door. Bianca follows us. “Adrian, don’t be mad. I really don’t mind that Claire came to the dinner.” My chest sinks. Of course. He’s angry because I ignored his order. Because I showed up at Bianca’s client dinner anyway. At the end of the hallway, Adrian finally lets go of me. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice is low, but that only makes it worse. “I told you not to come.” I look at the floor. “You’re a junior employee now, Claire. What made you think you had any business sitting in that room?” Every word lands exactly where he means it to. He has already taken my account and my position after three years of work, and somehow I’m still the problem. Bianca touches Adrian’s sleeve. “Enough. She probably didn’t mean anything by it.” The anger in him visibly eases. The first twin sighs. “See? Dad always listens to Bianca.” The second voice suddenly turns sharp. “This is it.” My fingers stiffen. “What?” “This is where Mom loses it.” I stop breathing. “She shoves Bianca down the stairs.” My eyes snap toward the staircase at the end of the hall. “And then Dad sends her away.” The first twin goes quiet. The second finishes coldly. “She dies there.” My palms turn clammy. Bianca is still standing beside Adrian, close enough to touch him—and once, that would have been enough to make me lose control. I dig my nails into my palm. Not this time. I look at Bianca. “I’m sorry.” Everyone goes still. Bianca blinks. Adrian’s expression changes instantly. I lower my head. “I shouldn’t have come.” His jaw tightens. “You really know how to fold when it suits you.” I let out a small laugh. “If I had that much pride, I probably wouldn’t have spent three years being your kept girlfriend.” His face goes cold. For once, I don’t care. I didn’t hit Bianca. I didn’t push her. I didn’t die. That’s enough. Adrian stares at me for a long moment. Then he says, “Go back to the office.” Bianca leaves with him. The hallway empties. My knees nearly give out. The first twin whispers, stunned, “She really didn’t do it.” The second still sounds cautious. “She’s still in New York.” I lean against the wall and breathe. Right. I’m still here. And apparently, as long as I stay anywhere near Adrian Russo— I’m still not safe.