The Billonaires Nemesis

L I L L I A N A

Everyone on this face of the earth is born with a purpose-some greater aim or ambition or, what some people liked to say-a dream.

I, Lilliana Moretti, was bred for revenge. A vengeance that ran so deep in my veins that it became my identity now. I lived, breathed, and existed for retribution.

The downfall of the Romanos. 

The rivalry between the Crime Families in this Windy City, Chicago, was like bedtime stories for the children. We were so used to the blood that it hardly bothered anyone, anymore. It was the city of chaos, blood, and madness. No one cared to bat an eyelid whenever shit got real.

Maybe my family-the Moretti family-did the same until the war was brought to our doorstep, leaving a trail of dead people including our own blood.

The Romano Family was the most powerful Crime Family ruling the city then and still now. Every family, every boss and every man-whoever went against them were taken down so mercilessly that even the Gods questioned the sanity of these men-Alessandro and his sons, Viktor and Dominic. Vice ran in their veins like warm blood.

A generation ago, my father, Dante Moretti made the very mistake of overthrowing the then boss, Alessandro Romano and the war had costed us everything. My father was brought to his knees and fled from the city.

That very day every Moretti vowed vengeance. And my destiny was sealed even before I drew my first breath.

I was to be the pawn in this game of vengeance, bloodbath, and retaliation.

Sheltered and secluded since my birth, I never existed on any document-like a ghost, I had no identity or existence. I was homeschooled, tutored and trained for twenty-one years for the one and only purpose-for vengeance.

To avenge my blood.

"So this is...her?" I looked up and arched a brow at my father sitting in front me with an expensive bloody cigar on his lips.

The photo was of a girl, barely eighteen-year-old who was abducted, raped and abused by the Vittelo, another crime family, who extensively dealt with illegal prostitution and human trafficking.

"What's her name?" I asked, going through some of her degrading pictures from what looked like a brothel.

"Amelia Parker," the man standing beside my father answered. "She was given to Antonio before Viktor took her away." Viktor Romano-they called him the 'devil incarnate', was now the Boss of the Romano family and the bona fide mafia of the God-forsaken city, Chicago. Surely the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

If I had to map out the criminal activities of Viktor Romano or his family so far, stealing a slave girl would be at the bottom of the list of his transgressions.

"And here I thought Romano men didn't prefer slave girls," I mumbled. The Romanos never dealt in human trafficking. But that doesn't mean they were saints. Their empire was built on countless dead bodies. They have had enough blood on their hands to earn a one-way ticket to hell anyway.

Drugs, illegal weapons, racketeering, and every other organized crime were their arena. But the one thing that set them apart from others was-power. It wasn't filthy money or influential connections that made them rule the city for almost three generations now. It was power-raw, untamed power. And with every generation, they redefined the meaning of power with a new flair of brutality. Every club, underground fighting ring, and black market was under their thumbs. And so was this city.

They knew they could not have been outnumbered or crushed so easily. Yet.

But they also forgot one universal rule that history taught us... every reign, every empire, every greatness came to an end. Nothing lasted forever. And Romanos weren't Gods to rewrite the history.

Growing up, there was only one fucking name drilled inside my head-ROMANO. And by the name of everything holy...what I wouldn't do to watch them going down... and to make them watch their legacy fading into the dust.

"They don't, actually," my father said with a sly smirk on his face. "Viktor is very protective of her."

I snorted and went back to flip through some more details. Men like Viktor didn't have 'feelings or emotions' to be protective of any woman, let alone a girl that damaged.

"Years I have waited for this, Lilliana," my father, Dante Moretti, said. "And finally I could see it happening."

"The plan would backfire," I simply stated, leaning comfortably against the couch.

Killing Viktor's girl, if he was at all serious about her? It wasn't a plan, it was a death wish and I had no intention of dying at all. Going after your enemies' weakness was a classic move Viktor Romano would see from afar and I would be dead even before I would take the step for my course of action.

"NO, it won't!" he almost spat out in frustration. "Let them know what happens when you lose someone when you lose everything!"

Old man, I snickered. I glanced at the man sitting beside my father. "Leave us."

When the door finally closed, I sat up straight facing my father. "You want their heads on a stick? I will get for you. But I will do this my way, Dante. I have spent my whole life preparing myself to be up against them, studied every little detail your useless men provided. So give me some credit here. I already have a plan and I will execute the way I WANT."

"And what is this plan of yours?" he gritted out.

"You are making the same mistake every one of their enemies did and lost. They cannot be outnumbered or attacked. The walls are too damn strong. You need to crack them first before tearing them apart." I paused and pulled out my phone, handing it to him. "Do you know Vittelos are going against Romanos?"

Dante frowned for a moment, taking in all the information. "From where did you get this information?"

I smirked. "Apparently Vittelos have pathetic firewalls. Whatever information they had against Romanos, I stole them. But I also took certain information on Vittelos as well. I need to use them badly."

He passed me the phone. "What is your plan exactly, Lilliana?"

"Dominic. Dominic Romano is my plan."