I Became the Youngest Daughter of the Mafia Family

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‘Something… is off.’

What were they after?

In the end, it looked like a massacre, but the first target was Francesca.
However, in order to target Francesca, they must first kill Byren Bernando.

There was no way they’d be unaware of that, but at best, their firepower was only enough to tie their feet, not to kill Byren.

In other words, it meant that they didn’t consider failure.

‘However…’

What if the target wasn’t Francesca from the start?

The Imperial Guards, who were quicking collapsing, crossed Ashmia’s mind.

“No way!”

Ashmia shouted, turning swiftly.

“Wait! Don’t come out yet!”

“…?”

Francesca and Alexandrio, who were coming out from under the stage with the help of soldiers, looked perplexed.

At that moment, one of Alexandrio’s soldiers was seen pulling out a pistol.

‘Damn it! As expected…!’

The target was Alexandrio!

Ashmia extended her arms reflexively, but it was impossible to reach them.

“No!”

Alexandrio mustn’t die.

Mana swirled around Ashmia’s fingertips, which she stretched with all her might.

***

In ‘Michael’s 7 years’, Francesca was on the brink of insanity after Alexandrio’s death, before she soon found herself embroiled in an opium scandal.

However, the Duke of Pendragon not only took full advantage of their influence to silence the press, but the following year, to their dismay, forced Francesca to marry the second prince, who became the Crown Prince.

Public opinion swelled with this shocking arranged marriage, but of course, nothing changed.

Francesca, who had been rumoured to be addicted to opium even after becoming the Crown Princess, after the coup failed, was charged with using Fleur to instigate the coup and was sentenced to death.

Those who witnessed the true Francesca said that she was soaked in opium until the moment of her execution, to the extent that they wondered if she really could’ve done such a thing.

After the execution, many people spoke of her like that.

If Alexandrio hadn’t died, Francesca might’ve lived a completely different life.

No opium addiction, two miscarriages, being used in a coup and execution.

Also, a life without loneliness. 

***

As soon as the mana shot out of her hand, Ashmia’s body dropped as if she had fainted.

And…

Whoosh—!!

“Huh?!”

The man, who suddenly appeared and pointed a pistol at Alexandrio, flew over the stage.

What happened in a flash surprised everyone who was there.
But what was more surprising was none other than Michael himself.

‘How…?!’

Click—!

Michael, looking down at his hand, shouted as he saw the Duke’s soldiers pointing guns at him.

“It’s not me, you idiots! Get him!”

“Miss? Miss!”

Michael pointed at the man laying on the stage before turning his head at Vanessa’s cry from behind him.

Vanessa, pale, rushed out of the hall, her eyes closed and holding Ashmia in her arms.

‘What happened?!’

Michael shook his head as if trying to shake off the confusion.

“He just wanted to kill the Prince—”

“Don’t move!”

But he was knocked down with incredible speed before pulling the trigger, and Michael was the only one around to see the man aiming a gun at Alexandrio.

Suppressing his frustration, Michael raised his hands.

“I won’t resist, so please go and check his identity first.
Go and see if he really is the Duke’s private soldier!”

“If you babble one more time, I’ll shoot you!”

He couldn’t make them understand.

It was then that Michael clenched his teeth.

“Do as he says.”

“…?!”

The soldiers looked at each other, embarrassed by Byren Bernando’s voice from behind Michael.

“Hurry.”

While Michael was surprised by the unexpected support, a soldier went on stage.

And soon,

“No dog tags!”

When it was discovered that it was a fake, the men lowered their guns in amazement.
Michael looked back at Byren, lowering his hands.

“Thank you.
Thanks to—”

Tsss—

“…?!”

But before Michael could finish speaking, his body suddenly turned to golden ashes and began to crumble.

“W-What are you?!”

“…Damn, I’m wondering that too.”

That was the only thing Michael could say back to the soldier’s startled yell.

An old mustang jacket, jeans, and faded shoes.

Michael’s body, which had the same appearance as the day he died after being shot by Nikita, quickly disappeared.

“…”

Byren Bernando watched Michael silently.