It had always been just me and Dad against the world. He never brought home any partners; just the two of us. But that was shattered last year at twenty-six years old, and now I’m all alone. My only lifeline is Mel, but I have no one to talk to about this. My dad is no longer around to guide me, and Mel wouldn’t understand—she grew up in a perfect household, her parents still together living in an apartment they bought in Soho. Shortly after we finished school, Mel wanted to leave suburbia, so her parents sold their house and moved into the city with her. A constant reminder that we grew up in very different worlds, but they say opposites attract, and we have been best friends since middle school.
I take a shaky swallow of vodka, trying to burn away the tears. I leave the envelope on the table as I flee to my room, in desperate need of an escape.
I grab my favorite purple vibrator out of the drawer, hoping the release can pull my mind away, even if just for a few seconds. I lay back on my bed, my muscles tense from stress, but my thoughts drift to that condescending ass from the club last week, again. I try to imagine what his hands would feel like running over my body. Would his touch be soft or hard?Definitely hard. He looked like the dominant kind. I play with my nipples in one hand, teasing myself to help me come quicker, letting the sensation roll over me like waves. I finally ease my body enough to help carry me towards sleep.
Morning hits me like a freight train, and my head is pounding, my dry mouth begging for water, and a desperate craving for coffee that no amount of caffeine could satisfy right now. Every muscle screams, every thought muddled. I stumble into the kitchen, barely holding it together. My thoughts are instantly back at the man who dropped off the envelope. After pouring myself a coffee, I walk to the table, and my hand lands on the envelope. I decide to open it. A neatly folded letter falls out, along with a phone and more papers.
My sweet Charlotte,
If you’re reading this, it means that something has happened to me. I’m sorry we never got the chance to meet, and that I had to leave you as a baby, but it was out of love and a need to protect you and your father—the only man I’ve ever loved.
Even though I stayed away, I never stopped watching you grow up. I made sure you were always safe. After you and your father left, I couldn’t bear the thought of having any more children. So, I threw myself into the family businesses, molding it into the empire it is now.
But since I am gone, it’s time for you to claim what’s rightfully yours. Your legacy is waiting for you. Inside this envelope, you’ll find my will, details of a trust set up just for you, and a new phone. The family estate and businesses are yours, but only if you accept what comes with it.
You must live in the estate for one year before the ownership is transferred to you. During that time, you must quit your job. Learn about our family history, a story spanning decades, built on blood, loyalty, and power.
Don’t you dare think about firing any staff or asking them to leave. They’re part of this family’s backbone, and their loyalty is worth more than gold.
If you agree, use the phone I’ve given you to contact Luciano. He’ll help you move and settle in.
This is the path you were destined to walk, Charlotte.
With love,
Caterina, your mother
Reading my mother’s words feels like I’m stepping into a strange dream. The conditions are clear enough: live in a mansion, learn about my family’s past, and don’t fire anyone. That should be easy, but I’m unsure if I should accept it or not. If this is the life I was meant to live, why did Dad shield me from it? But on the other hand, what do I have to lose right now?
3
Luciano
The phone ringing finally shatters my silence. My nerves already frayed from hours of waiting, I quickly snatch it up. “Joseph,” I bellow impatiently. “Is it delivered?”
Joseph pauses on the other end. “Si,” he says cautiously, “directly to Charlotte.” But there’s hesitation in his voice. “Can I… maybe offer you a piece of advice, Don?”
“What?”
“Be careful,” Joseph warns, choosing each word very carefully. “There’s something about Charlotte. She’s not to be underestimated.”
“Ciao, Joseph,” I snap, slamming the phone down before he can say another word.
Seeing Charlotte the other night at the club set off every alarm in my body. She’s trouble, no doubt about it. I knew from the moment she threw her drink on me that the next year is going to be hard. Anger starts to flare inside me at the thought of her. How could Caterina dump this mess on my shoulders, expecting me to babysit and teach her daughter the way of our life? I’m supposed to be the underboss—shit, now interim Don—of one of the most ruthless mafiafamilies in the country, not a fucking babysitter for some reckless brat. I know I wanted to find out more about her, but not like this.
The more I think about it, the more fire builds inside me, and in a burst of fury, I hurl the whiskey bottle against the wall. The glass explodes into shards, scattering around the room like the last of my patience.
“Luciano, tesoro, va tutto bene lì dentro?”Luciano, sweetheart, are you alright in here? Rosa’s voice floats gently from the doorway, soft with concern. She always has that calming presence, like she can sense when the storm inside me is about to break.
I blink, irritation flaring. I thought I was alone in the mansion; normally everyone has gone to bed by now. “Scusa, Rosa.”Sorry, Rosa.I take a deep breath to calm my edge. “Didn’t mean to disturb you. Shouldn’t you be home by now?”
Rosa enters the room with the quiet authority only years of loyalty can grant. She has been the silent pillar of the Carlisi estate since I was a teenager. She’s more than just staff; she is the heartbeat that keeps the entire estate in perfect rhythm. Looking after the chefs, the maids, the gardeners, and yet, today, she broke the silence I’ve been craving, a gentle reminder that even in the darkest, coldest nights, I am never truly alone—there is always someone lurking around the mansion.
Her smile is soft but knowing, while her voice carries the warmth of a thousand unspoken truths. “I was just about to head over to my cottage,” she says. “There were some last-minute things I needed to organize.”
Frowning, I press my fingers into my temples. “Rosa, what are you talking about?”
She gives me a sly wink, a sparkle of that old magic in her eyes. “Change is coming, my dear. I felt it today. The east suite needs to be cleaned and ready by next week.”
