The Viper Stepmother’s Mafia Justice Chapter 13
The Ghost at the Gala
We left New York with two children who finally stopped flinching.
Vegas was supposed to be our new kingdom. Dominic had ripped open Don Vincent Thorne’s empire in six weeks.
Casinos, clubs, cargo routes. And we moved into the new estate like conquerors.
The day we arrived, I kept my promise to Mia.
Two dogs were already waiting in the garden.
Mia named the white Samoyed Shadow. Leo named the black Doberman Bullet.
From that day on, those dogs never left their side.
Three nights later, we opened the estate with a grand gala.
Every powerful name in Vegas came smiling.
I wore red. Dominic stood beside me.
Mia clung to my dress, beaming over her juice.
Leo stayed beside her, eyes already scanning the room like a boy twice his age.
For one second, standing there with my family, this was the life I wanted most.
Then the ballroom doors slammed open.
A barefoot woman stumbled in. Her white dress was filthy and torn.
The music died. Three hundred guests turned at once.
She stood in the center of the room, swaying, chest heaving.
Then she saw Mia.
Before the guards could move, she lunged and grabbed Mia’s arm.
“My baby! It’s Mommy! Mommy came back for you!”
Mia gave a startled cry.
I crossed the floor in three steps. Caught Isabella’s wrist hard.
“Touch her again,” I said. “I dare you.”
Isabella looked up at me. Tears streaming. Lips cracked. She looked half-dead.
But her eyes were sharp.
“Who are you?” she cried. “Get away from my children!”
“Your children?” I held her wrist tighter. “I held them when they cried. I fed them when this family starved them. Where were you then?”
Isabella flinched. Then she turned to the crowd.
“Please! Help me! This woman stole my babies! Someone kept me in a hole for years. Chained. Starved. Left to die!”
Her voice cracked. Rehearsed.
Whispers turned to murmurs.
*Oh my God… is that really his first wife?*
*Those poor children…*
Every eye in the room landed on me. Even the cameras.
Isabella dropped to her knees and sobbed. Every camera in the room turned to Dominic.
He stood six feet away, watching this woman cry on his ballroom floor.
Then he snapped his fingers.
“Take her to the west wing. Guard the door.”
The guards lifted her off the marble. Isabella grabbed at a guard’s arm, thrashing.
“Dominic! I’m their mother! You can’t do this to me!”
Her screams echoed down the corridor. A door slammed. The screaming went muffled. Then silent.
Three hundred guests stood frozen.
“The evening is over,” Dominic said. “Thank you for coming.”
No one lingered. They filed out in whispers and sidelong glances.
Mia caught my hand.
“Mommy, is she my real mom?” Her voice was small and shaking. “Will you leave us?”
I knelt and held her face.
“I’m your mom. Nothing changes that. Go with Rosa. I’ll come tuck you in.”
Mia nodded.
Leo looked at me. His jaw was tight, but his voice was steady.
“She’s not real. Right?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said. “But I’ll find out.”
He nodded once and took Mia upstairs. Shadow and Bullet followed them.
I turned to Dominic.
“You told me she was dead.”
“She was.”
“Then who is locked in our west wing?”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said the thing that changed everything.
“I never saw her body.”
“Leo said she killed herself.”
“That was the official story. Three years ago, a car went up in flames. They found blood. Her ring. No body.”
“And you buried her anyway?”
“I buried an empty coffin.”
My chest went cold. “Then we need to find out. Tonight.”
We walked into the west wing room together.
Isabella sat cuffed to a chair. Her filthy white dress slipped off one shoulder. Old scars crossed her collarbone and wrists.
“Talk,” Dominic said.
Isabella’s chin trembled.
“After Mia turned two, men came. I don’t know who they were. They took me after her birthday.”
She pulled her collar down. Scars. Burn marks. Rope lines on her wrists.
“Years, Dominic. No windows. No name. I stopped counting the days.”
Dominic’s jaw locked.
“I’m not here to take anything,” she whispered. “Not your name. Not your money. Just let me see my children.”
Her sobs filled the room. Broken. Convincing.
Dominic said nothing. So I made the choice.
“Let her stay,” I said.
He turned to me.
“For the kids.”
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