---- Chapter 10 Olivia POV: The gray, drizzling skies of Portland feel like a baptism. | step off the Greyhound bus, no longer Ava Miller, the fugitive fiancée of a Don, but Olivia Carter, a woman with no past. | am exhausted, but for the first time in months, | also feel a spark of excitement. This is a new beginning. | find a small, furnished apartment in the Hawthorne district and pay the first three months' rent in cash. Anonymity is my shield. With my new ID, | open a bank account and buy a used laptop. "Carter Creative Designs" is officially born. My first client is a local bakery run by a cheerful woman named Brenda. She pays me in cash and a dozen warm cinnamon rolls for a new logo. As | walk back to my apartment, biting into the sweet, sticky pastry, a genuine smile spreads across my face. This is mine. | earned this. No Don manipulated this outcome. | spend my days exploring the city on foot. It's a city of friendly strangers, a neutral zone where no family holds power. | volunteer at an animal shelter. | make friends with my elderly next-door neighbor, Mrs. Albright. This is my new, safe, Found Family. ---- One evening, Maya calls. "He's looking for you, Olivia," she says, her voice grim. "He's declared a Vendetta. Hired private investigators, Associates who specialize in finding people. He's trying to reclaim his property." My blood runs cold. A Vendetta meant there were no rules. His Soldiers, his Associates... they wouldn't stop until they found me. A Vendetta doesn't end until blood is shed or honor is restored. And | knew which one he'd choose. Still, | look around my small, cozy apartment, at the new life I'm building. A sense of calm washes over me. "Let him look," | say, my voice steady and confident. "He's looking for Ava Miller. That woman doesn't exist anymore." | join a local meetup group for freelance designers, making connections. My confidence as a Mafia Queen in my own right grows with each completed job. I'm building a legitimate empire, one logo at a time. Maya calls again, her voice buzzing with energy. "You are not going to believe this. Ethan's started posting old pictures of you online, claiming you're a 'missing person.' He's trying to play the victim." A surge of anger surprises me, but it fades quickly. His authority means nothing here. Then, the world shifts. Chloe Vance, a disgruntled Associate ---- scorned, goes to a notorious gossip blogger-one known for his ties to the underworld. She tells him everything. The fake amnesia. The affair. The entire manipulation. But she doesn't stop there. She reveals Ethan's financial crimes, how he'd been embezzling from a company he co- owned with a business partner, funneling funds from their illegal operations into his own accounts. The story explodes. The Don-in-waiting is exposed as a liar, a cheat, and a common thief. His carefully crafted image shatters overnight. His Capos and Soldiers turn their backs on him. The hashtag #EthanReedlsOverParty trends for three days. It is a massive act of disrespect against Omerta, and it's beautiful. Maya calls me, practically screaming with delight as she reads me the headlines. A strange mix of emotions washes over me. Relief, vindication, and a quiet, dark satisfaction. The Don has fallen from his throne. | realize with a startling clarity that his destruction has nothing to do with me. | didn't lift a finger. He did this to himself. He broke every rule and this is the consequence. | am completely and utterly free from the shadow of the Don- in-waiting.