My Sister-in-law Tried to Sell Me, I Replaced the Mafia Heir

Everyone in the underworld, from Sicily to North America, knew one thing.

Vito Gambino, head of the Gambino family, seemed destined to have only sons.

Even the estate's guard dog had given birth to an all-male litter.

There were 22 boys in a row, enough to fill every branch of the family business, from arms and shipping to casinos and beyond.

So when my mother went into labor at a private hospital on Long Island, Dad didn't get his hopes up.

He sat in his study at the estate, a cigar between his lips, paging through a list of family holdings.

He was deciding which business to give his 23rd son when the boy came of age.

"Don! The Donna's had the baby. It's a girl!"

The old butler rushed into the study without even stopping to straighten his bow tie.

Dad's Cuban cigar dropped onto the Persian rug.

He ran for the door without his coat.

At the hospital, he looked through the glass and saw for himself that I really was a girl. The man who terrified New York's underworld suddenly had tears in his eyes.

He bowed his head and kissed his family ring.

That day, three orders from the head of the Gambino family spread across North America.

First, buy an entire Manhattan skyscraper, rename it Liliana Tower, and make it my mother's sole property.

Second, set up a separate trust fund worth ten billion dollars, with me as its sole beneficiary. Nothing like it had ever happened in the Gambino family.

Third, replace the Gambino family's century-old crest of two lions with a lily.

The news shook the underworld.

Several senior capos objected at once. Changing a century-old crest for a newborn girl, they argued, broke with Gambino tradition.

Dad listened, then answered quietly, "From now on, my daughter is the new Gambino tradition."

No one dared say another word.

I grew up adored by all 22 of my brothers.

But men raised around bodyguards, guns, and port operations had no idea what a girl might like.

They couldn't help me choose dresses from Milan's latest collections or tell me which jewelry went best with an outfit for afternoon tea.

For my tenth birthday, one brother gave me a fully armored pink Aston Martin.

Vincent Gambino went even further. His gift was a miniature submachine gun set with pink diamonds.

Everywhere I looked, there were black suits, earpieces, holsters, and cold, expressionless faces.

There wasn't a single girl my age to have tea with or talk to about dresses and perfume.

So when Anthony brought a woman home from Milan, no one was happier than I was.

Her name was Elena Bellini, he told us.

She came from an old Milanese family that had fallen on hard times. She spoke several languages, moved easily through Europe's social circles, and had almost flawless manners.

When she first came to visit my mother at the Long Island estate, she spotted me as soon as she entered the living room.

The Bulgari necklace at her throat swung as she bent toward me.

"You must be Liliana. You're even prettier than your pictures."

Smiling, she sat beside me and took my hand.

"How about I have tea with you and help you pick out dresses?"

I took to her at once and threw my arms around her waist.

After watching me follow Elena around all day, Dad called me into his study.

"You really like her, Liliana?"

My mouth full of a macaron she'd baked herself, I nodded right away.

"She's pretty. She has great taste. And she actually wants to spend time with me."

Dad saw the crumbs at the corner of my mouth and laughed.

"If you like her, I won't stand in the way of the wedding."

While they planned the wedding, Elena helped me try on new dresses every day.

She told me stories about high society in Milan and Paris, chose earrings for me, and taught me how to put an evening outfit together.

I thought I'd finally found the perfect sister-in-law.

After the wedding, her entourage and the bodyguards Anthony had assigned to her moved into a side wing of the estate for the time being.

I thought nothing of it.

After all, Dad had publicly named Anthony his heir. Of course his wife could bring a few people to stay.

Then came the day after the wedding.

Anthony was called to the main house to deal with a problem shipment at the Port of Los Angeles.

Not long afterward, Elena came to find me with two glasses of lemonade.

"The globe thistles are blooming in the greenhouse, Liliana. Come see?"

Suspecting nothing, I followed her to the glass greenhouse deep inside the grounds.

The door clicked shut behind us, and I heard the lock turn.

I'd just leaned toward a blooming rose when a hand seized my hair from behind.

"Ah!"

Pain shot through my scalp.

My glass hit the floor and shattered.

Elena spoke from behind me, all the warmth gone from her voice. "You stupid little girl."

She yanked my hair, forcing my face up.

"Did you really think I got close to you so we could have tea and pick out dresses?"