Ever since I was a child, I had always been weak.Among the countless children my father had spawned across the city through his endless mistresses, I was by far the weakest, the most fragile, and the most perpetually sickly.My mother was the only woman legally married to my father. She was the fierce, proud daughter of a powerful mafia don from the southern coast, married off to the Lion Heart heir solely to cement a territory dispute. But my father already had a dozen favored mistresses and a small army of healthy, brutal sons. So to solidify her place in the main house and secure her bloodline, my mother desperately needed to bear a son who could inherit the throne.The Don, my grandfather, believed in only a few things. In brute, primitive strength and male heirs. He demanded as many strong sons as possible to feed his empire.No matter how hard my mother tried, month after month, she struggled to conceive. When she finally took in and gave birth to me, her body was completely
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