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Home / Mafia Short Story / Daughter of the Don: Not a Girl To Cross / Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

All Chapters of Daughter of the Don: Not a Girl To Cross: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

23 Chapters

Chapter 1

"Are you sure about this, Nancy? Marrying that powerful man means ending things with Tad.""I'm sure. But not yet. Don't tell anyone. Especially not Celia."Celia — the girl I once begged my father to adopt, the one I defended and called sister — betrayed me.The two men who used to treat me like their world — my boyfriend Tad and our family friend Leo — now orbit around her like moths to a flame.I thought I saved her, but she only wanted to replace me.When Celia fell, they blamed me. When she got shot, they blamed me again. When I was in a car crash, they said it was an excuse to avoid "taking care of Celia."But I am Don DeLuca's daughter.And no one treats me this way and walks away unscathed.My boyfriend? He can go to hell.My so-called friends? They can rot with him...."It's me."I leaned against the cold stone wall outside the villa and spoke softly into the satellite phone.The deafening music outside almost lifted the villa's roof, mixed with roaring engines and the faint

Chapter 2

The stench of disinfectant was sharp, laced with a faint metallic tang of blood—this wasn't a regular hospital, but an underground clinic affiliated with the DeLuca family.The light was dim, save for the harsh beam of the surgical lamp cast across my bare arm. The flesh there was torn open, the skin curling outward, a grotesque mixture of burns and glass cuts."Lucky you came in time," said the "nurse"—a woman in a white coat with a weapon discreetly holstered at her waist. Her movements were practiced, efficient, and utterly devoid of tenderness. "Second-degree burns, deep. The glass caused lacerations. You'll need stitches. Bite down."I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound, only managing a stiff nod. The amber light above made my vision swim. I'd been here, in this safehouse clinic, for two days.No encrypted calls.No coded messages.No "Are you all right?"No "It was a mistake that night."Nothing.They hadn't even bothered to feign civility. Not a single meaningless lie of comfo

Chapter 3

I thought that fire would be enough to mark an end, to make them stay away.But I had underestimated their obsession—or perhaps Celia's unseen web of control.Days passed in silence, until Tad began seeping back into my life in the most absurd ways.He sent black datura flowers—symbols of death and vengeance—with meaningless cards that spoke of "care."Encrypted messages filled my inbox, feigning tenderness.Once, in the lobby of a family-owned high-rise, he tried to drag me into the shadows to kiss me—as if blood and betrayal had never existed between us.Leo followed suit, slipping easily into the "protective brother" act—bringing my favorite espresso, repeating half-forgotten jokes.And each time they said, *"We mishandled things before. Let's start over,"* their tone was so casual it felt like an apology for spilled wine, not for betrayal.Then came their "surprise"—a dinner invitation."We'll host," Tad wrote through the encrypted line. "Same place as always. Remember?"Part of m

Chapter 4

Every joint and muscle in my body still ached faintly, as if I'd been crushed under some invisible weight.So instead of leaving as originally planned, I stayed in the safe house, letting the deep, bone-penetrating pain keep me trapped in bed—like a punishment that had arrived too late.I didn't cry.The tears had long since evaporated in the flames that burned my past to ashes.When I finally broke free from another chaotic dream, harsh sunlight filtered through the blinds covering the bulletproof window, casting striped shadows across the cold metal floor.At the foot of my bed stood Tad and Leo."Morning." Tad offered a slightly awkward smile, holding a tray. "We brought you something to eat."Without a word, Leo set the tray on my lap. On it were a few pieces of dry toast, a greasy, cold portion of scrambled eggs, some not-so-fresh fruit, and a murky glass of orange juice.Half-hearted. Lifeless."Figured you needed your strength back," Leo added, sitting casually at the edge of my

Chapter 5

"What wedding are you talking about?" Tad demanded, his brows tightly knit.I curved my lips slightly—a faint, detached smile edged with mockery."A wedding you two will never be invited to."He blinked, caught off guard, as if trying to process my words."Whose wedding? Don't tell me—it's yours?"I tilted my head, the corner of my mouth sharp as a blade."Of course not. After all, you, Mr. Tad, have yet to kneel down and propose, haven't you? You're still, officially, my ‘boyfriend,' right?"I reached out and brushed my fingertips against his arm—so briefly it could've been imagined.But it was enough to make him flinch as if burned."Enough, Nancy," he said sharply, irritation flaring. "Stop being so dramatic. You're still recovering. Just rest."The words cut into me like a dull, rusted knife.He didn't even bother to pretend anymore.And to think—I once gave him my trust, my love, my everything.Leaning against the doorframe, Leo crossed his arms arrogantly. "So why are we excluded

Chapter 6

They all gathered around Celia as if protecting some priceless treasure.She cradled her hand—barely scratched—as though it had been severed at the wrist.Her performance was flawless: shimmering tears, trembling lips, gently quivering shoulders. Every gesture calculated, every expression designed to elicit the deepest sympathy and protectiveness."Couldn't you stop her?" Tad snapped at me, eyes blazing. "Her wound hasn't even healed yet! How could you let her touch dangerous things in the kitchen?""I clearly told her not to," I replied quietly but firmly. "She insisted on coming in. How is that my fault?"Leo's gaze was like a poisoned ice shard, sharp enough to pierce straight through me. "You could've been firmer. You know her body's weak—she can't handle any stress. You're supposed to be the responsible one here, Nancy."And what about you? I wanted to scream. I barely survived that car crash too. Do my injuries mean nothing?But no one heard. Or rather—they chose not to."From no

Chapter 7

By morning, most of my luggage was packed.The suitcases stood in perfect formation beside the bed—labeled, sealed, silent. Inside lay clothes, documents, and the few old photographs I hadn't been able to burn.I folded the last of my tailored shirts, not out of nostalgia but because the mechanical act brought a strange, meditative calm to the emptiness.They all thought I was preparing for that distant cousin's "wedding."No one asked when I'd return.No one even asked if I would.That silence was answer enough.I walked to the innermost corner of the dressing room, where a black ebony box rested—the DeLuca family crest etched into its lid. My jewelry chest.Inside were years of gifts, heirlooms, and fragments of my past.When I opened it, my breath froze.The necklace was gone.A platinum chain, set with an old-cut diamond pendant, engraved with our ancestral motif—elegant, weighty, irreplaceable.It had belonged to my grandmother, then my mother, and finally passed to me on my comin

Chapter 8

"Yes," my voice came through the encrypted line, calm and devoid of a single ripple. "List it immediately. Begin all sale procedures."Silence hummed on the other end before the broker—the one who handled the DeLuca family's gray assets—spoke with careful precision."Understood, Miss DeLuca. Just to confirm… you're selling Safe House No. 7 entirely? Should I notify the current … residents?"I let out a slow breath, one that seemed to have been trapped in my chest for years."Yes. All three—Leo, Tad, and Celia. They've lived there for years. I want the formal notice delivered only after I've left."She hesitated. "Have they signed any lease or protection agreement?""No." My tone was flat, detached. "They've always lived there free of charge. It was meant to be temporary—never permanent."Safe House No. 7 sat atop a downtown high-rise, equipped with its own security system. It was a gift from my father when I turned eighteen. At first, it was a modest two-bedroom refuge. After Tad and L

Chapter 9

I wouldn't leave like a dog with its tail between its legs—but my farewell would be nothing like the sentimental ending they expected.Before boarding the jet back to Sicily, I had one last stop to make.One final thread to cut, cleanly and coldly.Closure didn't need tears. It could be sharp. Icy. Silent.And that's exactly how I intended it.Celia.She was still in the private medical center under family control—"recovering," or so they said.But I doubted it.Knowing her, her pain was seven parts performance, three parts strategy.She always knew how to bend the truth just enough to trigger sympathy—and protection.The carpeted corridor muffled every sound except the rhythm of my heels—a metronome counting down to a funeral.Each step reminded me how close I was to freedom.In my hand, I carried a bouquet wrapped in black metallic paper—deep crimson roses so dark they looked almost black.Black roses.Perfect.They symbolized the death not of flesh, but of bonds, illusions, every li

Chapter 10

When I came to, the air smelled sharply of disinfectant. The rhythmic beeping of medical monitors echoed faintly.The ceiling above was blindingly white.Pain pulsed everywhere, but miraculously, I was still in one piece.A nurse in a white uniform walked in, her gaze sharp and assessing."You're awake," she said. "You're lucky—no fractures, just some bruises and a mild concussion. You'll need rest."I blinked slowly, trying to clear my vision."Was… someone here with me?"She tilted her head slightly, studying me."You don't remember?""I… think there was a man. Maybe I imagined it."Tad? My heart betrayed me with a faint, pitiful flicker of hope."Not your imagination." Her lips curved slightly, a trace of amusement in her eyes. "A man named Eric brought you in. Paid most of your bill. Stayed with you all night. Didn't leave your side."My chest tightened, as though an invisible hand squeezed it."Eric…"That name—he always appeared like a ghost whenever I was at my lowest."Yes," sh

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