Chapter 1

Chiara

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” Tommy, my boyfriend, said.

I stared at him, wide-eyed, through the crack between the door and the doorframe. A blonde bimbo bobbed her head on his cock, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with streaks of running mascara.

I yanked my purse higher up my arm, ready to grab the gun from it and shoot them both dead. Daddy had always shown me the right way to get rid of the people who had betrayed us.

But I couldn’t kill Tommy yet.

I quietly walked out of his apartment and shut the door behind me. How much of an idiot was he? He was dating the daughter of the boss and thought it was a good idea to cheat. And, come on, if he was going to cheat, he could have at least found someone who could take his whole cock down her pretty little whore throat. 

What a fucking idiot.

The phone in my bag buzzed. I expected his name to pop up with a sappy text, telling me that he would be home late tonight because Daddy was making him work late for the twelfth night in a row.

Daddy’s name lit up my screen. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to deal with him after finding out what Tommy’s late nights really were. But business came first for everyone in this family.

After speeding to Daddy’s restaurant, Il Giardino del Cancio, in Lower Manhattan, I gave the valet the keys to my BMW. Two guards, dressed in sleek black suits and dark glasses, opened the doors for me.

Men with greasy hair and thick Italian accents entered and exited every day for business. Even the Feds who were paid off would visit for a drink and a chance to be with one of the family whores who had knockoff Chanel bags and fake tits.

I passed by the two women at the bar who were begging for attention from any man in the family. Cousin Tony would pick them both up later tonight. He had a thing for whores and could never stay faithful to his wife.

Nobody could stay faithful nowadays.

The men eyed me as I strutted to the back of the restaurant. I gave them a flirty smile. They all had a thing for me, but none of them had the balls to talk to me after what Tommy did to the last guy.

In the back, Daddy was eating a plate of penne. His gray trench coat was draped against the back of his chair. Two guards stood behind him.

When he saw me, he wiped his face with a napkin, stood, and wrapped me in a hug. “Mio tesoro!”

A man sat across from him, his fingers interlaced quite tightly on the table. His hair was lengthy but short on the sides and lightly curled on the top. And I could see a bit of dark tattoos underneath the cuffs on his button up.

“Sit, tesoro.” Daddy pulled out a seat for me. “I want you to meet someone.” He gazed over at the man who had a small scar under his left eye. “This is Alessandro.”

We stared at each other. I couldn’t be bothered to say much to him. Everything I was going to do to Tommy was racing through my mind. 

“We have a shipment coming in the morning. I need you to be there when it’s delivered to oversee that everything goes well,” Daddy said.

I raised my brows. “Me?”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

I nodded and sat up straighter. For three years, I’d been begging him to let me in on the business, but he had refused. He thought that it was a man’s job. I wanted to ask why he had suddenly changed his mind, but I didn’t dare open my mouth.

“Alessandro will be there with you. He usually does this kind of work.”

Alessandro clenched his jaw as he looked at me with his hard gray eyes.

Daddy pushed his plate toward the center of the table and stood. “He will give you the details. Be there at three a.m.” He gazed at Alessandro, who just nodded. “You’re in good hands, tesoro.”

He leaned over to press a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t make me regret this,” he whispered in my ear. 

I tensed and pressed my lips together. 

Daddy picked up his jacket from the back of the seat and hung it over his shoulders. “I will let you two go over the plans.”

When Daddy and his guards exited the restaurant, I exhaled. I would make sure that tonight went perfectly. No fuckups.

None of these mafia men thought a woman could keep up with them, but tonight was my chance to prove that I could. I didn’t need a cheating boyfriend to take care of me anymore.

I had waited three years for this opportunity. The first step in my little plan was in place. Little by little, I was going to destroy Tommy, and today was day one. He had moved up in the ranks because of me, and I was planning to knock him six feet under.

Alessandro took out his wallet. “How much do you want?”

I furrowed my brow at him. “What’re you talking about?”

“How much do I have to pay you to stay home tonight?” He flipped through tens of hundred-dollar bills.

I narrowed my eyes. “You think you can pay me off?” 

He threw down all the bills from his wallet and put it back into his pocket. 

“I’m not taking any money from you.”

“Take it or leave it, reginetta.”

“What’s the address?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

He paused for a long time, staring at me with a clenched jaw. “Why can’t you be easy? Take the money and have Tommy do the work.” Tommy’s name rolled off of Alessandro’s tongue with such distaste.

I nearly laughed. I hate him too, stronzo. You’re not the only one.

“No,” I said.

“You don’t want to break a nail or, God forbid, get blood on one of your designer bags and fuck up this shipment, do you?” He raised his voice.

I placed my hands on the table and leaned closer to him. “Let’s make one thing clear. If I break a nail or, God forbid, get blood on one of my designer bags, I’ll just buy a new one. That’s not a problem.”

Alessandro pushed out his chair and stood abruptly. His gray eyes glared into mine. “I have one rule.” He placed his palms on the table and towered over me. “Stay out of the fucking way tonight.”

I raised a sharp eyebrow at him and stood. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I followed him to the exit and snatched his elbow. “Speak to me like that again, and you won’t even have a job, stronzo.”

He grasped my chin in his rough hand. “Touch me like that again, and you won’t like the consequences, reginetta.”

“What’s the address?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“3260 Flatbush Avenue. Brooklyn. Three in the morning.”