THE COVER
Copyrights of the photo used in creating the book cover belongs to a creator in FREEPIK. I am not the original owner and all the credits for it belongs to the owner.
THE BOOK
This is my first book on good novel and also my first mafia romance ever. I sincerely hope that you find it interesting and engage massively. I am going to have fun and enjoy writing this piece, so have fun reading it as well.
I will try my best to keep updating it as often as I can and the goal is to finish everything about HOW TO TRAP A MAFIA BOSS by December.
Have fun and leave me comments and reviews. I would really appreciate hearing your opinions.
HOPEI wasn't stupid—I knew Bob didn’t like me. The way he brushed past me in the hallway like I was some stray hair on his shirt told me all I needed to know. But it didn’t matter. Ace had given me a job, and whether he was trying to test me or trap me, I wasn’t going to fail.The protester case file was a mess. Clara had left behind notes and charts, all organized in her uptight, clinical style. I tried contacting her once—just to be polite—but she had barely concealed her irritation. I got the message.Instead of calling her again, I did what my gut told me to.I went straight to Ace.Every. Single. Time.At first, he was clearly irritated.“You have Bob and Clara for a reason,” he said without looking up from his laptop the first time I barged into his office with a question.“Clara made it clear she’s too busy,” I replied calmly, dropping the file on his desk. “And Bob? I don’t think he’d mind watching me fall flat on my face.”That made him pause. His lips curved faintly before
HOPE Assistant? I blinked a few times, unsure if I had misheard him. My heart thudded as if it wanted to burst out and scream: You’re not a maid anymore! But I didn’t let it show. I nodded, calmly, carefully, like someone used to getting promotions in mafia mansions. “Understood.” Truth was, I didn’t understand anything. Not why he trusted me, not why I felt seen in that moment, and definitely not why a small part of me felt… proud. Ace slid the file toward me with a lazy flick of his fingers. “Talk to Clara. She’ll walk you through the remaining details.” Of course. Clara. The name alone gave me a mini tension headache. I'd heard about her from the kitchen staff—how close she used to be to Ace, how she knew every part of the business, how she always wore stilettos like she was stomping on someone’s ego. She was now the HR manager, but before that, s
Tall, lean, and wearing a smile that was either amused or curious—maybe both. His jacket was half-zipped and his hand was tucked casually into his pocket.“Looking for Ace?” he asked.I stared at him. This had to be Bob—the half-brother. The one Ace tolerated but didn’t trust to accomplish anything. The one who lingered in the shadows, watching everything.“And you are?” I asked.He stepped closer. “The brother he doesn’t talk about.”Bingo.“Well, brother or not, I need to see him,” I replied, folding my arms.“He’s out. Cosa Nostra business,” he said, then paused, tilting his head like he was studying me. “You’re not like the other girls.”I blinked. “Excuse me?”“Most of them just cry or complain. But you—there’s fire behind those eyes,” he said with a grin. “It’s interesting.”I didn’t know whether to punch him or thank him. So I said nothing.He chuckled and leaned against the wal
ACEThere was absolutely nothing wrong with her going to the garden. It was just that I couldn’t have anyone tainting the memories of my mother. That garden was the only piece of her we could still see, touch, and feel.I stared at my office door, waiting for the person who had knocked to come in.It was Clara—my assistant at the Mason Enterprise. So far, she’d lasted longer than the others I had already fired.“Sir,” she greeted, walking straight to my desk. "I found it," she said, her voice smooth and sultry. "The shortlist of companies responsible for stirring up those protesters. I’m ninety percent sure it’s Cranes Electronics. They’ve got motive, access, and just the right amount of subtlety to pull it off without leaving too many breadcrumbs."I flipped through the documents, skimming the summary she’d neatly highlighted.“You’ve done well,” I said.“Of course I have,” she replied with a smile that was more suggestive than professional. “You bring out the best in me, Ace.”Her
ACE She stood there gawking at me. I’d left her speechless—that much I was sure of. I kept walking deeper into the garden, lost in memories… of my mother. It was her garden. She loved it like a child—probably because it was the only thing she had control over, especially when it came to my old man. Everything about her life revolved around him. My mother loved him too much, and that was the beginning of her downfall. She couldn’t leave him, no matter what. Not that he would have let her. She knew too much about the family. But Mason… my father… he loved her too, in his own twisted way. Her absence destroyed him from the inside out. I envied their love. But it was dangerous—for both of them. A love like theirs is the kind I would always long for… but never pray to have. A slight bump on my back snapped me out of it. “Sorry, Ace,” she said, placing a small hand on her forehead. “It belonged to my mother. I haven’t been in here since she left.” I watched her glan
HOPE I was wandering around the top floor, which once belonged solely to Ace before I became a co-owner, without a care in the world—confident I wouldn’t get caught. One of the kind maids had told me earlier that I was free to explore the place.As I poked my head into a series of empty rooms filled with nothing but dust, I suddenly stopped in front of the door to Ace’s room.Standing there, it hit me: after our encounter in his room the other week, seeing him again had become like trying to win the lottery. My heart sank as I realized it had been weeks since I last saw him.It wasn’t that I missed him. Not at all.It was that my stay in the mansion was dragging on, and I was starting to warm up to the place.No, you’re not, I scolded myself.I saw him that night. It had been a few weeks, but the image of the blood; barely visible between the collar of his shirt was still fresh in my memory. It hadn’t been much, but I could swear it wasn’t animal blood.The more time I spent in the ma