King Of The Mob

I stood in front of the mirror looking at my self critically and in disbelief. No matter how I present my self inform of people, I was never in total control of my life

Father is wants me to get married to a stranger. No, he is forcing me to do his wish. He gave me no other option as usual. I could, of course, run, disappear without traces. I could elude detection. I won't, thoughcos I will definitely look like a fool before him and I am never a fool. I've been nothing but a disappointment to him for my entire life, and this only confirmed it. Father never passed an opportunity to let me know that he never like me as his child. I was nothing more than a cheap commodity that he could use as currencyfor his empire built on blood and sweat of criminals like him. He never liked me, and since I knew I would never win his approval, I did nothing to try to change that. Was there any need? No

I am the King of the Italian mafia, . Father only gave it to me because he is dying and has no male heirs—poor bastard with no luck and who has no male heirs. In spite of the fact that he fucked day in and day out, he didn't even have any sons who weren't his. My father hated seeing me take control of his precymafia, make it mine, and seize the reins of power. However, I didn't ask for this existence but what do i do? Accept it

I was unfortunately brought up by my assigned maids and nannies as an only child. Father was way too busy and, also, he hated me. I didn't mean to kill my mother I didn't even kill her, I didn't ask to be born so I'm wondering how her death is my fault, so there he was, my cruel, wicked father, who forced my mother to marry him. I know very well that he forced her; she couldn't have been in love with a monster like him. He says to me "you killed your mother" every single day of my life.

As cruel as this may sound, I'm glad she's not here because she broke free and I'm still here. The maids frequently described my mother as a beauty, how wildly spirited she was, and how father broke her piece by piece.

I sat there every day trying to figure a way out, but it was impossible. If I ran away, my entire life would be a lie because I was destined to be a Don and had the power in my blood. In addition, father would find me and probably have someone slit my throat while I slept. Maybe I could kill the bastard, but if anyone found out I'll be dead too

The whole idea of marriage never for once crossed my mind in my adult life, maybe a few times when I was a young girl, but I always imagined marrying a prince Charming, not the head of the American mafia. I'm only 24 and he had offered my hand without even telling me he never would have asked. I felt like a sheep being led into a slaughter m

The roles of women in the mafias are very traditional. To obey and serve. To be complacent doormats. Fucks sake. If father thinks by uniting our mafia's through marriage would mean I giving up my mafia to fucking Ace, he's got another thing coming. Our mafia was well known for its reputation of being manipulative, ruthless and brutal. They were deadly, even I was impressed.

I am no one's doormat, and if Ace fucking Hernandez expects me to submit and follow, I will gladly tear out his fucking heart and stuff it down his throat.

It was a tactical maneuver alone, according to my father, who sent me away in order to join up with the American mafia in order to prevent a conflict between our mafia and theirs.

Laura is my right hand man and one of my many guards she has become my only friend. She is highly intelligent and a skilled kille like myself. I demanded a woman to be my personal guard and right hand man just to overthrow the stupid patriarchal system in the mafia. "Laura!" I yelled. Immediately a pretty blonde entered my bedroom.

I spoke as I looked down at my hand. Dried blood covered my fingertips and the cut in my palm was still bleeding, but I didn't care because I've been through worse and survived. "Laura, please call a maid to pack my things ready for tomorrow."

As she took the knife away from my grasp, Laura held my hand tenderly while nodding. "Let's get you refreshed ," she said with a warm smile. She didn't inquire as to what had occurred or what I was doing with a knife, she just knew.

I sipped bourbon from a crystal glass in the hopes that it would warm me up inside, but it never did, and my palm throbbed almost as much as the headache I've now acquired as I watched her carefully and delicately bandage my hand.

She knows I've practically begged him to stop this marriage, and she knows how he just laughed at me, telling me to fuck off. "Your father still wants you to marry?" Laura asked as she took a seat on the edge of my bed, crossing her legs.

I wished for happiness as I walked over to my balcony windows and looked up into the night sky. "Yes," I said. "I have argued with father in vain. It's done. I touched my cheek where father had slapped me. I may not be bruised, but I will always remember. I closed my eyes as I wished his death repeatedly. If only I could do it and free myself, but that's another problem. If I kill him, my maf will kill

"I just want to be alone right now," I said, my voice tinged with sadness. Her eyes lowered to the ground. She walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, as if to reassure me. I felt her fingers lightly squeeze my shoulder before she left my room, locking the door behind her. I didn't like that one bit. But I appreciated her so much.

I wasn't alone for long; a maid arrived as I asked her to pack my things, and I sipped more bourbon neat as I observed her fumble with my underwear. "Don't fucking pack my lingerie. Are you insane? Do you think I'm just going to fuck him? " I growled. I was being too harsh. Fuck. What if he's old or a disgusting womanizer. What if he'

It seems as though if you want something done right, you have to do it