Blinded By The Kindled Fire (Ongoing)

𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖖𝖚𝖊

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐀

"How's the first week, tesoro?" My father sat on the couch that was right in front of my table in my office—which was once his.

"Exhausting." And I mean it. Maybe it's the toil that's caught up to me, because I don't usually get tired this easily.

I glared at the stack of papers on the end of my table. I hate paperwork. If this is the pile waiting for me now, how much more will come in the coming years? Heck! How much more with the legal companies combined?!

Thankfully, papà did not pass on our legal businesses to me yet because he wanted me to settle down while handling the mafia first. It's actually easier that way so I can work my way through with managing both at the same time.

The mafia is much harder to deal with than the company. I could just let a secretary do the heavy things for me and I'll just look over the important stuff or whatnot. But the mafia, I can never be so complacent.

I trust my men but I don't trust my associates.

Business is business. If you fuck me up, I'll return the favor a hundred times over.

I could've taken business in college but that takes away the whole point of why I even asked to be away in the first place. Taking business would mean I would always be thinking about this life despite wanting to escape it temporarily.

But even so, I don't hate the mafia. I just didn't want to lose out on what life has to offer. At least I get to say that I had a normal life before I slither into this woman I'm supposed to be.

"I'm sorry, tesoro." I saw the worry in his eyes, "Your inauguration just had to be at the time when we have loads of shipments coming in. The Milieu offered to assist on the ones we ship out, so I know you'll at least get some work off of your shoulders by then, but for now, this is all on us."

I nodded at that. Pierre Laurent, the Milieu's caïd, called me a few days after my inauguration and told me about his promised assistance in which I accepted with no question.

The French mafia have been our allies since my grandmother's reign, and I know better than to suspect anomalies from our own allies. They had to know that they don't scare me, they had to know I'm not an easy prey if I want to prove myself worthy with my title as capo.

"I had that talk with Stefano. We're working on having ourselves check the crates personally at the warehouses before we send them out, just to make sure nothing goes wrong by the time Pierre sends his men for us."

I saw the look of approval in my father's eyes and I felt a little proud myself seeing him look at me like that.

"Where is Stefano anyway?" His brows furrowed, "I thought he was supposed to be helping you?"

"He went to Naples. Cleaning." I no longer had to explain what that meant.

I just had a call from one of my men telling me that someone's been spying on the warehouse and taking pictures of the crates. But knowing how capable they are, they immediately apprehended the fucker before those pictures fell into the wrong hands.

Setting aside the papers, I faced my father, "So after I get settled in, what will you do then?" I have been meaning to ask this of him. After taking over the mafia, all he's been doing to keep himself busy is the company, but it's only a matter of time before he passes that on to me too.

"I'll just be here with you."

"You're not that old to just stay in this huge ass house for the rest of your life, papà."