“Alright,princesa,” I spoke with a slow nod. Her eyes turned into slits at the pet name. “You got yourself a deal with thedevil.”
Chapter 3
Present
25 years old
Upper East Side, New York City
MY LEOPARD PRINT D&G HEELS clicked against the entrance stairs of the DeMone Tower’s – Prestigious Hotel & my family’s Headquarters.
Doors were opened for me the way they always were. I strutted across the marble checkered floors, my trench coat protecting me against the late summer chill.
I’d been at the salon, getting a blowout, when I got the call.
My dad holding a random meeting was never a good sign. Especially when it was only with me and my brothers.
That meant one of two things.
Either one of us fucked up.
Or he was about to tell us something that would never leave the room.
“Ms DeMone,” One of the soldiers with an earpiece nodded as the elevator doors opened on the boardroom level, holding his hand out like he was going to guide me himself.
“I got this, Rocco,” I waved him off, heading towards where I knew my father and brothers were already waiting for me.
I took a deep breath before entering.
My father was already sat at the head of the business desk in his office that sat only six, Gìovanni and Antonio on each of his side. No one would hear or disturb us here.
Gìo was the older, colder brother. Clean. Sharp. Polished. Politicians saw him for his Yale degrees, college football quarterback star reputation, and bank account with tens of zeroes – the respectable diplomat of the gangster family. The Mob saw him for his power and charming looks – the future King of the Cosa Nostra.
That was how he drew everyone in.
But none of them saw him for what he truly was.
And before they knew it, he’d already squeezed the life out of them.
He was one cold motherfucker. And no one ever saw it coming.
Tony was the younger, hot-headed brother. Reckless. Aggressive. Impulsive. People saw him for what he was. And he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He partied like there was no tomorrow, fought like he was invincible, and carried himself with the air of a greek God.
With his left hook, he could knock anyone out. With his right, hewouldkill them.
Tony, they feared because of how fucking psycho he was.
Gìo, they feared. Period.
People always thought my brothers were so different, but they were both equally unpredictable. That alone, made them more similar than anyone realized.
Everyone on the outside saw me as the rich nepo-baby that spent all of daddy’s money. That was fine. Because when I walked into a Cosa Nostra meeting, Bosses across the US lowered their heads when I walked past.
I was the youngest woman in the Italian-American Mafia to date to take the Omertà – the blood oath I’d taken at just fifteen, when I returned from Boarding School. My father had sent me away to snuff out my fire, yet I returned more ruthless and blood-thirsty for power than ever.
I’d cut a gash into my palm, gave the Cosa Nostra my blood and vowed:I enter alive and will leave dead.
“Hey, guys.” I smiled, taking a seat at the other head of the table. My brothers both took theirs at thirteen.
