The Mafia Princess Asked for a Beautiful Ashes Box Chapter 07

The Mafia Princess Asked for a Beautiful Ashes Box Chapter 07

Dante’s face hardened completely.

“She was the one who did wrong. She should be the one to come back, apologize, and explain herself. Why should I go to her? I just never expected her to be this stubborn. Five years, and she

still refuses to yield.”

His anger rose with every word.

“I even gave Mia the Russo name and made her my heir to put pressure on Nina, but she still

wouldn’t come home. Now she’s even hiding from me.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.

Then he seemed to remember something and tossed the phone to his consigliere.

“Trace the number that just called. The man claimed he sold urns. Nina has probably borrowed

money again. Find out what she owes and take care of it.”

That evening, Dante sat alone at the estate, handling family business on his phone while

occasionally glancing at the television.

He controlled the entire Russo empire, so the business news was part of his nightly routine.

Mia was cooking in the kitchen and paid no attention to the screen.

Then the anchor’s urgent voice cut through the room.

“We interrupt this broadcast with breaking news. Police recovered the body of an unidentified

woman today from a river near a gated community on Long Island. Authorities are asking the

public for help locating her family. The preliminary investigation suggests suicide. Anyone with

information is urged to contact the police.”

Dante’s head snapped up.

The news footage showed a covered body being wheeled toward the medical examiner’s van. He stared at it, his brow drawing tighter.

We were brother and sister. However much he hated me, blood still tied us together.

All the color drained from Dante’s face as he pressed a hand to his chest.

After a moment, he pulled out his phone and called me.

The call went straight to voicemail.

His expression worsened. Panic unlike anything I had ever seen flashed through his eyes.

He opened our message thread and sent one text after another.

Dante: [Nina, where are you? Pick up.]

Dante: [I want to see you right now. Call me!]

Dante: [Call me, and I’ll forgive you. Everything I said before was out of anger. I only wanted you to

come home.]

Dante: [Forget Mom’s keepsake. I don’t care about it anymore. Just come home.]

Dante: [Call me. Now!]

Dante: […]

No matter what he sent, no answer came.

His breathing turned heavy. He tried to stand and knocked over the glass beside him.

It shattered against the floor.

Dante flinched and crouched to gather the pieces. A sharp edge sliced his finger, and bright blood

welled from the cut.

He hissed at the pain, but his gaze remained distant.

Hearing the noise, Mia rushed in from the kitchen.

“Dante, what are you doing?”

She turned off the television, took out a bandage, and wrapped his finger.

“You can’t pick up broken glass with your bare hands. Look, you’re bleeding…”

Only then did she realize Dante wasn’t listening. His face looked frighteningly pale.

Her brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a bad feeling.”

Dante clutched the front of his shirt over his heart. For reasons he couldn’t explain, his eyes

reddened.

“Nina has been gone for five years, but I’ve never felt this afraid.”

He looked at Mia. “Do you remember what she said the last time we saw her?”

Mia’s frown deepened.

Dante answered his own question.

“You don’t have to die. I will.”