Alessia Ferrari is the Don of the Italian Mafia. Whip-smart and dangerous, she is a woman in a man's world, surviving against all odds. Born and raised to become a lethal killer, even the ground she walks on bows at her feet. She has it all, until t...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE SWEARING ALCOHOL/SMOKING
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I sat on a leather chair in my meeting room, my eyes narrowed at one of my men. Was he fucking with me? I daren't know. I clenched my jaws and stood up. "Who the fuck do you think you're working for?" I growled, being unable to hold back my anger. I held it back for too long now.
The dozen men all sitting in chairs like mine, around the long glass table, became silent. The only sounds that could be heard was heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock. The men all watched me carefully, some of them averting their gazes as if my stare burned them. I missed watching them cower in fear. Fear of me. "Is it not easy to do your jobs? Such fucking simple little jobs. Yet you test me, test my patience. I have none. Do you know what that means? It means I will cut you open without blinking. Now stop fucking with me and give me some good news. I do not want to hear about how some bitch robbed me of business. Fucking get it back." I growled as I looked around the dimly lit room which conveyed my feelings.
"But how can we get it back?" A man adorned in a cobblestone grey suit asked while twiddling his tattooed thumbs. I scoffed and blinked several times. "How?... mi prendi in giro (fucking kidding me)" I muttered under my breath. "You fucking take it back!" I spat in anger. Am I not being simple enough for them. Is it not easy to take something that belongs to you back. I could do it myself but why should I. I had a whole mafia at my disposal.
My blood was boiling, I missed my mafia and home but fuck, I felt ever so nauseous. Smoke lingered in the air even if none of the men smoked. Even if the room had been cleaned from floor to ceiling. The men sat in their seats, fidgeting with their watches or scribbling notes on papers before them. My eyes rested on Ace, who was sat crossed leg on a chair in the far corner. A vision of cool calm dangerous. His gaze met mine and he bowed his head slightly. He was here to keep an eye on me. I didn't protest because I knew I had to keep an eye on my stress levels and he was better at controlling me than I cared to admit. His fingers gently drummed his thigh slowly, as he observed everything, never intervening. He would want to interrupt, it was only a matter of time.
I exhaled slowly, trying to leash my beast as Ace sometimes called me. I sat back down, my aching heels protesting when I took the pressure off them. I picked up my glass of water and took a sip, placing it back onto the table with a soft clink. I would always be who I was, albeit I was trying to smooth my rough edges. "What's next?" I asked no one in particular.
The men looked alarmed as if they didn't want to share something with me. I waited until one of them grew some balls. "Monica..she passed away this morning." A man spoke hoarsely. My breath hitched and flashes of the woman whom I gave money to, whom treated me like a daughter clouded my vision.
Fuck. I looked down and gulped as I tried to hold back my tears. "Murder?" I asked, my voice on the verge of cracking. I cleared my throat and interlaced my hands to stop them from shaking. Monica was the closest mother figure I ever had and now she was gone. Oh fuck. The man shook his head. I looked down at my sneakers, my belly in the way. Only last week I saw her with Ace. Only last week did she beam when she saw me and wished me a happy life.
