He Didn't Know I Was the Mafia Princess
I'm the daughter of Don Falcone.
After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti.
My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand.
I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot.
Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard.
A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear.
"Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a