All Chapters of The Don’s Favorite Assassin: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

After Mom died, my father, a Capo, moved his mistress right into our estate.They took the master bedroom. They cut off my credit cards. They treated me like unwanted trash.Tonight, the Don himself was coming to inspect the casino.For the first time in ages, my father had me dressed up. He forced me into a blood-red dress. It was skin-tight, and the neckline plunged so low it was practically indecent.“Pull it down another inch!” My father jabbed my shoulder with his cigar. “You worthless bitch. If you don’t end up in the Don’s bed tonight, I’ll throw you in a downtown brothel tomorrow!”I lowered my eyes, hiding the murder in them. “Yes, Father.”A lace garter high on my thigh held a small pistol.Someone was going to hell tonight. It wasn't going to be me.The doors to the VIP casino burst open.The noisy room went dead silent. Even the roulette wheel stopped spinning.The most powerful man in New York's underworld, Don Marcello, strode into the hall. He was surrounded by heavily a

Before I left LA, I hacked Tristan’s encrypted accounts.The oh-so-righteous politician was washing all his campaign money. Through the Irish mob in New York.Marcello’s mortal enemies.If I was going to get revenge, I was going to go big.Three days later. Late night. A penthouse in Manhattan.I slipped past layers of security and broke into Marcello’s private bathroom.The shower stopped.The frosted glass door opened. Steam billowed out.Marcello stepped out from under the water.Droplets traced paths down his broad shoulders, his hard chest, and disappeared below his V-cut abs.I had to admit it. The tailored monster was perfect under his suit.Soundlessly, I closed the distance and pressed the tip of my dagger against his wet stomach.“Good evening, Don.” My lips curved into a smile.Faced with a dangerous woman holding a knife to his gut, Marcello didn’t even flinch.He didn’t hit the alarm. He didn’t call for Rocco, the guard outside.He just grabbed a towel and wrapped it aroun

A blood-stained file was thrown at my feet.Leo spoke. His voice was cold.“See for yourself, Scarlett. You come back, and the Judge is dead.”I replied automatically, “My condolences?”“Condolences?” Leo exploded. “Are you insane? The Judge is dead! That means the Don’s enforcers will be tearing this base apart by morning!”I paused, my mind slowly catching up. The “Judge.”The Chief Justice of the New York Supreme Court.He was a public official, but everyone in the underworld knew he was Marcello’s most important pawn in the legal world.Our organization, The Syndicate, always operated in the gray. We did dirty work for cash.The last Don had almost wiped us out. It was only after Marcello took over and created the underworld’s “non-aggression treaty” that we got a chance to breathe.And the first rule of that treaty was: you don’t touch the Don’s people.Now, he was dead.I thought for a second. “So… no condolences, then?”Leo got even angrier. He shoved the barrel of his rifle rig

Rocco’s gun was still raised. But no one dared to pull the trigger.Marcello slowly lifted a hand. Pressed it to the bleeding gauze on his neck. His grey eyes swirled with a dangerous amusement. A dark, lethal fondness.“Rocco,” his voice was a low growl, laced with absolute command. “Lower your weapon.”Rocco hesitated, then obeyed.My gaze was fixed on the lipstick stain. The fire in my chest wouldn't die down."Tell me what she looked like." I tightened my grip on his collar, not caring that he was hurt. "Her height. Her voice. The way she walked. Tell me everything."Marcello let me manhandle him. A dangerous smirk played on his lips."Are you jealous?""I'm hunting a rat." My voice was ice, but my fingers betrayed me, tracing the warm muscle of his chest. "That imposter stole my signature move. I'm going to personally crush her throat.""Scarlett Attempts to Assassinate the Don." If that headline got out, Julian would win. I wouldn't let him write this story.I made a decision. Ri

Julian’s voice oozed from the speakers, soft and sick, just like when he’d coached me through my first kill.I stared at the face I’d known for fourteen years. I didn't feel fear. Just a bone-deep disgust that churned in my stomach.“Handler.” I let out a cold laugh. “No, what should I call you? Daddy's little boy?”The mask was completely gone. He took a sip of whiskey, his eyes like ice.“Scarlett, who do you think you’re fighting for?” he said slowly. “Marcello killed my father. Stole his throne. Then he gave you a bunch of rules, made you think you were some ‘Avenging Angel.’ But how is he any different from my father? They’re both dictators who climbed a mountain of bodies.”“At least my father was never a hypocrite,” he continued, his voice dangerously warm. “Come back, Scarlett. Come back to me. To a world with no rules. Where only the strong survive. That’s where people like us belong.”I stared at him.I was fourteen when I did my first hit. The target was a fentanyl dealer in