Rita Locke, the fearless and cunning Don of the Italian Mafia, has carved a path for herself in a world dominated by men. Trained to be a ruthless killer from an early age, she commands respect wherever she goes. Her power is unmatched-until her father shatters her carefully built empire by arranging her marriage. Chase Rodriguez, the cold and calculating leader of the American Mafia, is a man who thrives on control. Known for his cruelty and unyielding demeanor, Chase views life as a game, and breaking others is a skill he's mastered. When fate forces these two formidable forces to unite in marriage, chaos ensues. Will these two predators find an unexpected sanctuary in one another, or will their volatile natures lead to destruction? "I don't remember signing up for strip poker," she quipped, her lips forming a soft frown that didn't quite mask the amusement in her sharp gaze. She knew she couldn't win this game-but that didn't mean she'd back down. "Are you quitting? A quitter, are you?" I taunted, enjoying the way my words needled her. Her lips twitched in annoyance before she pressed them into a tight line. The blue in her eyes darkened, and a dangerous smirk played on her face. She slipped off one of her sandals and held it up, letting it dangle from her finger before tossing it aside. Her raised brow was a challenge, one I couldn't ignore. I had gotten under her skin-exactly as I planned.
Chapter 1 1
I held the razor sharp knife tightly. I took no notice of the way the blade cut deep into the flesh of my palm. I took no notice of my crimson blood which spilled out and stained the carpet below. It relieved me. To feel my body in physical pain was a great distraction from the emotional pain that troubled me. I wasn't one to harm myself but I didn't know how to react and my knife, it was just there.
Father wanted me to get married to a stranger. No, he forced me to. He left me with no choice. Granted, I could run. I could hide. But I won't. My whole life, I've been nothing but a disappointment to him and this affirmed it. I was nothing more than a mere commodity, an object to trade at his will. He never fucking liked me and I did nothing to earn his approval because I would never get it.
I am Rita Locke the Don of the Italian mafia. Father only passed it down to me because he is dying and he has no male heirs, which is quite unfortunate for the bastard. He didn't even have any illegitimate sons despite the fact that he fucked day in day out. He hated watching me take over his mafia, making it mine, making the power mine. But I never asked for this life.
Sadly, I grew up as an only child being raised by maids and nannies. Father was far too busy and he was disgusted by me anyway. The phrase 'Hai ucciso tua madre' (you killed your mother' was something I've heard every single day of my life. Mother, my beautiful mother died during childbirth. I didn't mean to kill her, I didn't ask to be born. So there he was, my cruel wicked father, whom forced mother into marrying him. I know he forced her, she can't have been in love with him.
The maids often told me of what a beauty mother was. How wildly spirited she was. And how father broke her piece by piece. In a way I'm glad she's not here, she broke free and me, I'm still here.
So here I sat, thinking of a way out. It was impossible. If I were to run away, my whole life would be false. I was born to be a Don. The power ran in my veins. Besides father would hunt me down and no doubt have someone slit my throat while I slept. Perhaps I could kill the bastard. But if someone found out, fuck, I'm screwed.
I'm only twenty three and he had offered my hand without even asking me. He never would have asked. The thought of marriage never crossed my mind. Perhaps a couple of times when I was a young girl. But I always imagined of marrying a prince. Not the boss of the American fucking mafia.
The American mafia was well known for its reputation of being manipulative and brutal. They were deadly, even I was impressed. The mafia boss; I didn't know much about, but only his name. I was to be wedded to Chase Rodriguez. The roles of women in mafias are very traditional. To obey and serve. To be complacent doormats. Fucks sake. If father thinks by uniting our mafia's through marriage would mean me giving up my mafia to fucking Chase, he's got another thing coming.
And if Chase fucking Rodriguez expects me to obey and serve, I will gladly cut out his fucking heart and shove it down his throat. I am no ones doormat.
Father, as he put it, gave me away to form an alliance with the American mafia. To ensure peChase between our mafia and theirs. No one wanted a war. So what am I supposed to do? It was a strategic move nothing more.
"KC!" I yelled. Not a moment later a pretty blonde entered my bedroom. KC is my best friend and one of my many guards. She is highly intelligent and a skilled killer. I wanted a woman to be my personal guard mainly to overthrow the patriarchal system in the mafia.
"KC I need you to call a maid to pack my things ready for tomorrow." I spoke as I stared down at my hand. Dried blood coated my fingertips as the cut in my palm still bled. The pain didn't bother me. I've suffered worse and survived.
KC nodded and walked over to me. She sighed kneeling down beside me. She gently held my hand in hers as she procured the knife from my grip. "Let's get you cleaned up." She smiled warmly. She didn't ask what happened, she knew.
I watched her bandage my hand gently and very neatly. I felt numb, cold and alone. I sipped bourbon from a crystal glass in hopes that it would make me feel warm inside but it never did. My hand throbbed almost as much as the headache I've now acquired.
"Your father still wants you to marry?" KC asked as she took a seat on the edge of my bed, crossing her legs. She knows I've practically begged him to stop this marriage, she knows how he just laughed at me, telling me to fuck off.
"Yes." I walked over to my balcony windows and looked up into the night sky. Stars glimmered and shone, with a shooting star falling. I wished for happiness. I have argued with father to no avail. It's a done deal. I ran a finger down my cheek, where father slapped me last. I may not be bruised but I will always remember. I closed my eyes as I wished his death over and over again. If only I could do it and free myself but that's another predicament. If I kill him, my mafia would turn on me. I would be shunned and disowned. After all there is no crime greater than killing your own blood.
I turned back to face KC. Her brown eyes held so much pity for me. I didn't like that one bit. But I appreciated her so much. "I just want to be alone right now." I spoke, my voice laced with sadness. Her eyes lowered to the ground. She walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, in a way to reassure me. There was nothing more she could say or do. I felt her fingers lightly squeeze my shoulder before she left my room, closing the door behind her.
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