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Undercover Godmother—They Framed My Daughter, I Buried Them All
Novelix
Completed
Five years ago I retired to the top and swore never to come back down. Then I found my daughter's name ripped off our door, her body broken in a basement cage, framed for a theft she never committed. The man I made Underboss let it happen. The niece who stole her inheritance wore my daughter's pendant like a trophy. I walked in wearing a stranger's face — plain hair, soft jaw, nobody's mother. By the time they realized who I really was, it was already too late to run. I didn't come back for mercy. I came back to bury every traitor who touched my blood.
Chapters (3)
第1章
Five years ago, I left New York and made a name for myself in the Swiss underworld.
Now I'm back for one reason: to bring my daughter, Sonia Blackwood, home.
But the name on the family estate isn't mine.
Someone else's.
I stop the first man I see.
"You know where Sonia Blackwood is?"
His face twists like he's smelled something rotten.
"Her? That bitch tried to steal Miss Sutton's diamond bracelet. They stripped her and dumped her in the basement. She's still down there.
Everything inside me goes cold.
My daughter.
They threw my daughter into a basement.
The next second, I draw my gun and press the barrel against his forehead.
---
The Blackwood name wasn't just a name. It was mine.
I built this family from the ground up. Before I left, I made Vincent my underboss.
I personally chose every one of those capos and put them where they are.
And now some little brat named Sutton had her name on my door?
Sonia would never steal. My girl wouldn't lift a nickel off the floor.
And even if she did? Nobody—nobody—lays a hand on my daughter.
Two goons were posted at the basement door. Big guys. Cheap suits.
"Hold it right there. Vincent's orders. Nobody goes down."
They didn't know who I was. I looked ordinary. My clothes were nothing special. To them, I was just another middle-aged woman.
The gun under my coat felt hot now.
"Move."
They laughed. Actually laughed.
"Another one? What, you owe Sonia money too?"
"Listen up, sweetheart. That trash pissed off Miss Sutton. Pissing off Miss Sutton is pissing off the whole Family. Not even the Pope himself could save her ass."
"So walk the hell away. Or you'll end up like him."
He nodded toward the corner.
There was a man there. Or what was left of one.
Skinny as a rail, hair in his face, curled up on the concrete. Chain around his neck. Both arms and both legs bent the wrong way. He was breathing, barely.
I walk over. He lifts his head like it weighs a hundred pounds.
"Get out of here…" His voice is cracked and wet. "They've got the place wired. Cameras everywhere. Just you and me—we can't get her out…"
He was beaten to a pulp trying to save my daughter.
Something inside me snapped.
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small bottle—the good stuff, prescription-grade painkillers plus something my old doctor cooked up just for me. I slipped one into his mouth.
The two goons saw the pill bottle. Their eyes lit up.
---
第2章
One of them lunged.
He grabbed my wrist. Hard.
"Well, well. You're wasting meds on this dead man walking?That's a direct order you're breaking, sweetheart."
"Hand it over. Now. Or I'll break your goddamn arm."
In our world, it's dog-eat-dog. I get it. I invented half the rules.
But before I left, I laid down one law for the Blackwood family: Nobody robs their own. Nobody kills family. You break it, you die.
Guess that memo got tossed in the trash.
I looked up at both of them. Calm as a Sunday morning.
"Family rule. No one steals from their own. Never heard that one?"
They looked at each other and cracked up.
"Are you kidding me, lady? Nobody remembers that garbage anymore."
"So what happens if I don't hand it over?" I asked.
"Then I cut your pretty throat and take it."
They were still laughing when I sighed.
Then I drew my Beretta and slashed each man's throat with the blade in my other hand.
They stared at me. Blood seeped between their fingers. They choked out one last sentence.
"You're insane… we're… Mira Sutton's guys…"
I smiled. Nothing behind my eyes.
"So?"
Blood sprayed all over the hem of my coat. Didn't care. I shoved the pill in the beat-up kid's mouth and moved on.
I could already feel the healing taking hold. Whatever my doctor put in those pills, it was worth every penny.
He grabbed the wall and dragged himself upright.
"You just killed them. Mira's gonna burn this city down looking for you."
I heard the cold in my own voice.
"Good. I want her to try."
I walked to the basement door, released a hidden lock only I knew about, and the entire steel door swung open.
The kid — Gavin, I'd learn later — stood there with his jaw on the floor.
Then he shuffled after me, careful, like I might turn around and shoot him too.
The stairwell smelled of mildew, blood, and something worse.
Please. Please let her be alive.
I scanned every corner, listening for any sign of movement. And then I found her. Back wall. Steel cage bolted to the floor.
Before I left New York, my Sonia was already a soldier in her own right.
Sharp. Beautiful. Five-eleven and dangerous.
Now?
She was curled up in that cage like a broken doll. Face gaunt. Hair gray. She looked like she'd aged twenty years.
There was a deep wound in her abdomen.
Someone had cut out the family pendant beneath her skin—a small piece of gold with our blood sealed inside it, worth more than the whole building.
Her hands were swollen and bruised. One knee was badly damaged.
If I hadn't spent a fortune on her medical treatment when she was a kid, she'd already be in a coffin.
My mind went blank. Then the rage took over.
I'm going to burn this Family to the ground. I'm going to bury every last one of them.
I steadied my shaking hands and lifted her out.
She weighed nothing.
That's when I heard the voice at the top of the stairs. Sweet. Sing-song. Sick.
"Oh my God! Who did this? My boys — my boys are dead!"
Then a man's voice, furious:
"Somebody came for the bitch! Somebody disobeyed the boss's orders!"
Gavin went sheet-white.
"Ma'am — what do we do? They're never letting us walk her out of here."
---
第3章
I looked at him.
"If you're this scared, why'd you come down here in the first place?"
He gave a broken little laugh.
"Sonia saved my life once on a job. If I let her rot down here, I'm not a man. I'm a rat."
My Sonia and I are different animals.
I was raised with a gun. She was raised with a stethoscope.
She's the family fixer — the one who patches up bullet holes in the back of restaurants, who keeps our boys off the ER records.
She's saved half this Family. Vincent. Chase. Marco. All of them.
And every single one of them let this happen.
But some outside kid she barely knew? He came for her.
"Chase — look! The killer's right there!"
A woman came running down the stairs. Red dress. Baby face. The kind of pretty that looks harmless.
Mira Sutton.
I looked past the pretty. And I saw the pendant hanging around her neck — *my daughter's pendant*. And the ring on her finger — the Blackwood signet, the one that only gets passed down to the heir.
That's what this was about. Sonia hadn't stolen a damn thing.
Mira wanted the inheritance. So she took it. Simple as that.
"Who the hell are you? This is a restricted floor!"
Chase — my daughter's baby brother in everything but blood — pointed a gun at my face.
I'd made sure my hair and makeup were plain. Some Botox to soften the jawline. He didn't recognize me. Of course he didn't.
I ignored him. Looked straight at Mira.
"That pendant. That ring. Where'd you get them?"
Her face flickered. Just a hair.
"None of your business! I earned them!"
Earned them. Sure.
I let my eyes travel over her, slow.
The Chanel jacket she was wearing was custom-made. I know because I'd flown to Milan and commissioned it myself, from a designer who only takes three clients a year.
That jacket has Kevlar woven in. Stops a .45 at point-blank.
The bracelet on her wrist — diamonds set in a specific old-world cut. I bought that at a private auction in Geneva. It came with a matching necklace, which was hanging around her throat.
All of it was Sonia's. Everything I left her. Every single piece.
I laughed. Short, quiet.
Then I flicked my hand and yanked Mira across the room by the collar. My fingers closed around her throat.
"Four generations of nobodies. Bones like twigs. Skin like paper."
My voice was ice.
"And you're telling me a worthless bloodline like yours rose to the top of a Family this powerful in three years without stealing everything from a woman better than you? Try again, honey."
Mira wasn't ready. She kicked and scratched. Her face turned purple.
"Chase — Marco — help me — please —"
Chase and Marco snapped out of it. Both drew. Both charged.
Cute.
They were good. But I was the one who taught the man who taught them. I sidestepped, spun Mira around, and let their bullets hit her instead. Twice in the shoulder. Once in the thigh.
She screamed.
"STOP! STOP SHOOTING! IT'S ME!"
That's when Chase and Marco realized every round they'd fired had landed in their precious little Mira.
---
