Blood Phoenix ：My Fiancé Sold Me To My Eighteen Mafia Fathers Chapter 09
Three months into my reign as Donna of the Moretti family, the Vances finally made their move.
Julian’s father — desperate to save his son — pulled every string he had left. He hooked up with a top-tier Balkan mercenary outfit, plus a handful of rival crews who’d been circling the Moretti territory like vultures for years.
The plan? Hit the estate while I was still finding my feet. Wipe us out. Pull Julian out of the cellars.
Late that night, the perimeter alarms lit up the whole valley.
“Donna! The Vances just rolled up on the north gate — a few hundred mercs, fully kitted!”
The lieutenant was out of breath.
I was sitting in my chair, slowly cleaning the Vendetta Blade with a silk cloth.
I didn’t get angry. I smiled.
“Finally. I was starting to get bored.”
My eighteen dads shot up, already reaching for their pieces.
“Papa. Boys.”
I put a hand up. My eyes went cold.
“Tonight — I want this one. Just me.”
Every division of the Moretti family had a job. Ours to run, tight and clean.
Instead of holding the line, I opened it up. Let them push. Gave them a hole to run through. Baited the Vance coalition straight into the tightest stretch of the valley — a narrow gorge we call Dead Man’s Slot.
The firefight kicked off just before dawn.
The whole valley shook. Muzzle flashes lit up the cliffs.
I was in full black tactical gear, moving alone through the crossfire. In and out of the shadows like I owned every inch of that rock.
BOOM.
A mortar round hit thirty yards out.
Out of the corner of my eye — Uncle Enzo. Pinned behind a boulder. Trying to cover a couple of soldiers. Three mercs closing in from his flank, weapons up.
“You wanna die tonight?”
I ripped both pistols off my thigh holsters and launched off the ridge. I moved like a panther dropping on a kill.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three shots. Three headshots. Mid-air.
I hit the ground clean. Grabbed Uncle Enzo by the coat and hauled him up.
“Uncle Enzo. You good?”
His eyes were wet. Actually wet.
“That’s my girl. Every year I spoiled you — worth it.”
That’s when the merc commander burst through with his elite squad. Boxed us in, six deep.
He was a big guy. Blonde. Blue eyes. Scandinavian, maybe. Face like a wall.
He raised his rifle. Locked on me. Finger tightening —
Then his eyes caught on my right arm. My tactical suit had torn open in the fight. The blood phoenix was showing.
He froze.
His pupils blew wide. He dropped the rifle. Went straight down on one knee. And in a thick, broken accent, he roared:
“BLOOD PHOENIX! You’re the woman who saved the Lone Wolves in North Africa!”
Five years ago, I slipped my dads’ watch and went out on my own. Ended up pulling a pinned-down merc unit out of a firefight in the Sahara. Just a good deed. Never expected to see them again.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Lone Wolves. Small world.”
The commander pivoted on his knee. Swung his rifle around — straight at Julian’s father, who was cowering three steps behind.
“Protect the Blood Phoenix! The Vances lied to us — kill every last one of them!”
The whole battlefield flipped in a heartbeat.
The coalition that thought they had us surrounded got sandwiched between the Lone Wolves and my dads. It was over in twenty minutes.
Every man the Vances brought — gone.
By sunrise, the Vance family didn’t exist anymore.
Julian’s father took a full magazine to the chest. Dead before he hit the ground.
Julian himself — dragged out of the cellars, thrown facedown in the square at the north gate. Made him watch. The bodies. His father. His whole world burning.
Something inside him snapped clean off.
“Sera… kill me! Just kill me already! Please — kill me!”
Julian was on his knees in a pool of his own family’s blood, slamming his forehead into the gravel. Begging.
I walked up to him. Looked down.
“Kill you? That’s the easy way out.”
I crouched. Put my face level with his.
“Here’s what I want, Julian. I want you to watch me. From the gutter you crawl into. I want you to watch Serafina Moretti live at the top of the world. Every award. Every headline. Every man on his knees for me.”
“I want every single day of your life to be regret. I want death to feel like a mercy you’ll never get.”
I straightened up. Turned my back on him. Started walking toward the sunrise.
Behind me, Julian broke. Sobbing. Screaming. Ragged, animal sounds.
“Sera! I was wrong! I love you! I love you, I really do — please, just look at me! Just look at me!”
I didn’t turn around.
I let the wind carry my answer back to him.
“I don’t love you anymore, Julian.”