The King of New York {1}

Chapter Three [SAMPLE]

The girl staring back at me in the mirror was a vague resemblance to what I knew.

It wasn't the makeup, hair, or even the dress that changed me.

I had always tried to be the person who had a smile and a good outlook on life. Yet at this moment, I remained anxious, paranoid, and irritated. Right now, my outlook on life was dull. The event tonight was making me short-tempered and feistier than usual.

Since I wasn't used to attending nicer, more lavish weddings, I didn't have the proper attire.

Thankfully, a friend lent me her usual wedding outfit, consisting of a pearly-pink chiffon colored dress that stopped just after my knees. It was complemented by an elegant shawl of the same color and cream-colored heels.

I bit my lip, habitually.

At least they aren't stilettos.

No matter how I tried to relax or focus on something else, my mind constantly went back to imagining all of the horrible outcomes that could happen tonight. Every one ended with my world up in flames.

I had never actually met a mafioso before the incident. At least, not one who admitted to being one. I expected to see greasy men in nice suits, eyeing women, and making perverted jokes everywhere. Surprisingly, the ones I had met so far were clean-cut, well-kept men.

With a long sigh, I ran my hands through my hair and tried to clear my mind. On the radio, Billy Joel was singing, almost successfully drowning out the chaos below. It reminded me of Italy and part of me began to wonder what life would be like if we stayed, while the other part never wanted to know.

The tips of my fingers ached, almost acting like a constant reminder of my inescapable fate tonight. In the bakery, Romano men were helping load the truck.

It was unusual as we would never normally ask the client to help transport, however, after very serious insistence from their side, they were here to both load and lead the way. I should be down there helping, but the more petty side of my soul decided to stay in my room until it was time to leave.

As I sat down near the edge of my bed and began putting my shoes on, my mother knocked before letting herself in. She had a brave face on, blanketing her worried stance.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? I suppose we could always change our minds, take off down the street, and flee the country. You know, run from the mafia, live a life of danger and hiding, scouring the earth for food scraps?" she asked in a lighthearted attempt to lift my spirits.

Instead of outright responding to her joke, I gave her a sheepish smile. She let out a deep chuckle of loud relief. "Thank you for this. You really are helping us out."

I shrugged humbly. "I don't mind. Well, I do, but you guys have done a lot for me. I suppose I can stick it out."

She smiled warmly, the motherly kind that said 'Everything will be fine.'

"You look beautiful, by the way. I haven't seen you in such a fancy looking dress since your confirmation. It's weird seeing you outside your casual clothes and sundresses," she pointed out.

"Thank you, and yeah, I'm glad Mia had this dress," I said, trying to figure out how to tie the shawl.

My mother's smile grew as she began fixing the shawl. "I miss Mia. When is my long-lost daughter going to come to see me?"

Mia had been my best friend since grade school. Although we weren't constantly together, and sometimes would go weeks without talking, our friendship always remained stronger than steel. She had been dating my cousin, Connor, and their five-year ongoing relationship not only made me realize how lonely I was, but also that soulmates really might exist.

I shrugged and responded, "She's busy with her internship, they have a huge article proposal coming up apparently."

Similar to my mom, I was desperately in need of one of Mia's random pop-ins. Unfortunately, we only spoke briefly when I stopped by to pick up the outfit.

My mother nodded understandingly before teasing, "You know when you two were little, Mia was so scared to start school one year. It was the first year you weren't in the same class, and she was terrified to be alone. Yet you grabbed her hand and said, 'don't worry. I'll be there in a flash if something goes wrong. I'm never too far away.' After that, she wasn't scared anymore. You should think of tonight as the same thing. I won't be too far away should something happen."

I couldn't help but crack a smile at her retelling of the memory. It was a prime example of who I tried to be, someone people could trust or rely on.

Nonetheless, knowing my mother's personality, I knew she would show up ready to destroy the entire mafia if anyone did try anything, and that eased my concerns. Even if she was alone against a hundred people, she would still go all in. I'm more than thankful to be her daughter.

"I know, I know. Everything will be fine," I assured. She gave me a wary eyebrow, clearly suspicious of my feeble attempt to calm her nerves.

She put on an alarmingly serious expression before saying, "Oh! I see what's going on here."

I gave her a confused look before scoffing, "What?"
"Maybe I'm worrying about the wrong thing..."

I crossed my arms. "What are you implying, mother?"

Her serious expression contorted into a cheeky grin as she joked, "Maybe I should be worried about all of the fine, young, and dangerous bachelors that will be lurking around waiting for a bright-eyed young girl they can corrupt to show up.

A brash, unattractive cackle fled my lips. "Sure. As if."