Only God can save my soul now.
Let the games begin!
Vittorio
Chapter Two
We received a call—all five families. Father has instructed Bellino and me to meet him outside the Bianchi’s house. Whatever’s going on, something massive is about to go down. We’re all gathered at the front. We won’t enter until we are all on site, and as Father pulls up in his town car, he makes his way to the entrance. Bellino and I fall in behind him, followed by the rest of the families. Father is the most powerful of the five, so he takes the place of the unofficial head overall in situations like these. The unknown.
When we get to the door, no one opens it. This is unusual in itself. Bellino eyes me, and we step around Father, drawing our weapons. Bellino opens the door, and we slip in. We clear the entranceway and head into the living room, freezing at the sight before us. Bellino lowers his weapon first, and we’re stuck in a three-way stare.
Arianna Bianchi, standing gripping a knife white-knuckled in her tiny hand, covered in blood but owning it like she was born for this, her chest rising and falling with a calmness even though she’s surrounded in chaos.
I know she was bred to be in this world—well, untilshe was born a girl. Then, she was sheltered, hidden, and overlooked. She was going to be a pawn, never a queen. She will be married off to my older brother, Bellino. She will secure us as the top two families in the Syndicate.
As the only daughter out of the five families, normally, where she would have been married off by now, her father has been hedging his bets and holding her over us like some prized fucking possession. His little Principessa, sheltered and hidden from the horrors of our world, too insignificant to see the real us. She would never be the son he wanted.
But here, in this second, she looks every bit of the queen she was never intended to be.
Father steps between us, and she glares around the room at every single one of us.
“I, Arianna Bianchi, declare myself the new Donna of the Bianchi family. I have avenged my father’s murder at the hands of his second, Alfredo Conti. I will be my father’s successor effective immediately.” She straightens her shoulders, defiance spreads across her face, daring anyone to challenge her.
There is a long silence before Father bursts out laughing, followed by the other three heads of the families: Enzo De Luca, Lorenzo Costa, Mateo Mancini and their sons hovering in the background. Father, Massimo Ricci, will not allow this, and neither will the others; a woman will never be Don. Not while they’re still breathing.
“Now, child,” he patronises. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. We will take care of everything; your family will be dissolved into my own, and you will be married to Bellino as agreed. While you now have nostanding, you still at least have good breeding.”
The corner of her mouth twitches faintly, but the rest of her face remains cold. Rigid. Unfeeling. “I don’t remember asking for your permission, Massimo. I’m informing you as a courtesy. This is not a request. This is what’s happening.” Her voice has an edge to it, a bite, a confidence that I don’t remember being there before. She’s always been in the background, paraded around at parties like a prized cow and more recently dangled under my brother’s uninterested gaze, but never involved in the day-to-day running of anything.
I don’t think we’ve spoken much more than a hello to each other in all the years we’ve known the family. But as we’ve been at the house more and more recently; I’ve seen her lurking in the halls. How she looks at me lights me up, and how I move past her in the corridors causes goosebumps. The smallest of grins I reserve just for her. I’ve seen something different in her from what the others see or don’t see, should I say, as they barely acknowledge her. But this? I never suspected this.
Another bark of laughter breaks me from my thoughts. Father ridicules her some more while the others guffaw, taking his lead. She straightens her back, folding her arms across her chest and not uttering a word. They taunt with condescending remarks, glancing at each other and revelling in their humour. Once the laughter dies down, Father takes a step towards her. She returns the gesture, staring him straight in the eye. Still clutching the knife.
“It’s cute, Principessa, that you think you can step into your father’s shoes and take over.”
She takes another step forward, glaring at myfather. “Massimo, with all due respect, I’m not stepping into my father’s shoes. My father was a pig, and his business sense was non-existent. On the other hand, I intend to kick his shoes to the side, slide on my Louboutins, stomp all over this outdated Syndicate, and turn it into my own empire. I called you all here as a common courtesy, nothing more. Alfredo murdered my father. I do not need anyone’s permission to step up. Effective immediately. Now, gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have a little… clean-up to arrange here before I get on with taking over my legacy. Kindly see yourselves out.”
She turns and takes a step to walk away, and I see the vein in Father’s bald head start to bulge as he lunges for her, spittle flying from his mouth as he screams at her for disrespecting him and turning her back on him.
As his fingers brush her shoulder, she spins under his arm, bringing the knife to his throat and gripping the collar at the nape of his neck. She pushes the blade into the skin, his hands slowly raised to the sides as a trickle of crimson forms before sliding down his neck, soaking into the collar of his starched white shirt.
Bellino and I already have our guns trained on her, and she snarls at my father, not sparing a glance at anyone else in the room. She clearly doesn’t see any of us as a threat at this moment, and she’s right. None of us will dare make a move while she has Father in such a significant position, her gaze trained on him alone. She curls her lip at him.
“Do. Not. Underestimate me, Massimo,” she spits at him. She’s about the same height as my father, standing around five-feet-eight, but Bellino and I are both over six feet tall and tower over them. She pushes theblade a little harder, and his eyes widen slightly. “You will give me the respect you gave my father. I suggest you all leave while you still can because I will not be insulted like this in my own home!”
She releases my father, taking a swift step back. I see his jaw tick, so I step in between them and laugh.
“You think you have what it takes to take over, Principessa?” I spit at her. “Prove it!”
I take a step closer to her, towering over her. Her piercing blue eyes glimmer with something as they train on me; they flick to my lips, but she smirks for only me to see. Her eyes slide up to mine, and she schools her face. But I don’t miss the flash in her eyes, the excitement as she meets my gaze again, and the challenge. I lick my lips before speaking, and her eyes roam to watch before darting back to me.
“If I haven’t turned this empire around in six months, I will gladly walk away.”
“If you have anything about you, Principessa, you will achieve it in three.” I fold my arms across my chest and glare down at her, returning the challenge.
Her assessing eyes wander over my chest and my biceps as they tighten. She takes a second to assess every inch of me. Her gaze feels like a soft caress; the touch of her eyes on me feels like nothing I’ve ever felt before, heat floods my body from her gaze alone and electricity sparks in the air. I want to linger in her stare and get lost in her body, but now isn’t the time.
She sticks her hand out towards me, and I grab it. She shakes it firmly as my meaty fist engulfs her delicate grip. I squeeze, and I squeeze hard, but she nods. The feeling of her hand in mine feels like home; the touch ofher skin on mine creates a longing inside me, and I know I’ll never have her. She’s my brother’s intended, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I wish things were different—maybe she would be mine in a different life, under different circumstances.
