Chapter 2

I pulled on a black hoodie over my white crop top and black jeans. I put on nike sneakers instead of my the usual heeled boots. A muddle was ready to break out. I let the housekeeper stay in my room and went outside.

I climbed inside my preferred red Ferrari and peered out the tinted windows at the fading sun. Red, amber, and yellow tones merged with one another to create a lovely image. Laura quickly sat down next to me and fastened her seatbelt. I was aware that I needed to leave tonight in order to get to America in time to meet that man the following day. But that's the beauty of owning your own plane, I could depart whenever I wanted to.

I started the automobile and immediately heard the exhilarating purr of the engine. I depressed my foot and drove the car to its destination from there. Maybe this is the most liberated I'll ever feel. I traveled down narrow alleyways and on lengthy, deserted highways. Despite breaching every law, I managed to escape punishment.

In Italy, I was the law.

I pulled up to a barren warehouse and got out. I failed to put my black, mid-byack-length hair into a ponytail, so it flailed across my face. I was instantly allowed inside as I approached the structure, and several of the guards even lowered their heads. Respect was always earned, never bestowed. And everything I had worked for, I had earned.

I was shown into a small, damp room. The area smelled strongly of metal. A mixture of blood and bleach that is almost nauseating. When I noticed a man restrained on a metal chair, I smirked. A bloody rat.

We all know that snitches are nothing more than bitches, so I abhor them to the core. The man dared not look me in the eyes, so I spoke. "Snitches, as we all know and are aware of, will always end up in ditches. But I don't operate in that manner. Seeing as how theft, murder, and snitching are all crimes that are punishable by death, you get the idea." I made a vile grin.

I turned away from the man and grinned slyly. "I'd kill you even if you just annoyed the fuck out of me."

I turned to face the silent man. As I had asked, he was beaten and bleeding. Yet he made no disclosures. I was curious as to whom he had leaked information regarding my business dealings. Because the worst thing a mob could have were immature, careless informants who would flee to the police or sing to the greatest bidder.

Even though the police are in my pockets, they still have the power to arrest me. They are definitely developing a case against me, I can say that much. They are allowed since it makes me laugh a lot. How they seem to believe they can touch me. how they believe they can undermine me. Nobody is able to defeat me.

"Consequently, why won't you speak? You are useless to me." As I took my knife from my pocket, I said. The ugliness of the middle-aged guy appeared to have awakened from his subdued stupor as he pulled at his restraints. He shouted, "You bitch! (Vuo cagna!)"

I exhaled and put my palm to my heart. "Whoa! This cunt here called me a bitch, you hear that Laura. Never call me a bitch." I walked up to the man grinning. I cut deeply across his throat in a single, straight motion in an instant.

As it sprayed onto me, blood spat out. The man choked on his own blood and succumbed to death in exactly five seconds, as I watched. Not pleasant at all, but necessary. I can't be forgiving because if I do, everyone will perceive me as being indulgent. They'll treat me like a doormat and walk all over me. Being a woman has already been challenging for me.

I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and looked at the time. I should probably leave then. My father will be waiting for me, and I pray that I don't arrive late. I cleansed my hands and part of the blood that had stained my face with the towel that a guard had handed me.

In a flash, the mess would be organized and cleaned up. The corpse would disappear, the blood washing away. The snitch's memory would be erased.

I threw my hoodie to the ground after arriving at my plane and tossed it aside. I climbed the few stairs and entered the aircraft. When I saw that my father was already sat inside, my body tensed. The eff. Fuck off.

Father looked at me and grumbled. I've become accustomed to this sight. "My, Alessia, you resemble Merda (shit). I have no idea how I managed to marry you off." He laughed at his own joke and rasped.

I gritted my teeth and chose the seat on the roomy plane that was farthest from him. My father had other ideas than for me to use this time to sleep. He kept staring at me while he spoke on. Once we meet the Americans, you'll need to wear better clothing. He babbled while yanking a stray thread off his gray suit.

I buried my head in my hand because I really wanted to stop my father's constant moaning. "Do not offend the Americans in any way. What's the name of your husband, Ace? What a ridiculous name. You should give him the freedom to treat you anyway he wants. Are you following me?" He muttered as he awaited my response. I disliked talking back to him. I detested sharing a room with him.

I gave a fake nod of the head. Does my father truly not give a damn about me? That he would sell off his only daughter without caring whose hands I would end up in. I laughed in my head. If he truly despised me, he ought to have killed me. because one day I'll kill him. And that day will soon arrive.

Father jumped up from his chair and moved menacingly in my direction. Fuck. I fixed him with my unwavering gaze. I anticipated what he would do. But even then, as he gripped my wrist violently, I winced. Do you comprehend? I struggled to keep from breathing in his foul breath as he roared.

"Yes, dad," I muttered through gritted teeth. I could poison him. But someone would constantly be aware of it. "Good." As he left go of my wrist and made his way back to his seat, he muttered. I looked away from him and exhaled softly.

Finally, after a torturous trip, we arrived at our destination. I was so exhausted that I could not function because he was in the room. I dropped onto the bed once we checked into the hotel and experienced more affection from the plush sheets than I ever would have from my own father