Daughter of the Mafia

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ake up for it in attitude. I'm mixed with Puerto Rican and Black. How? Well, my mom is half Puerto Rican, and my pop

who made sure I embraced my curls. She'd always say, "Your hair is your crown, baby gi

thought they'd look cool, and to be honest, they do. People always ask if I'm trying

oesn't play about that kind of stuff. He made sure I earned it, but it was worth it. It has "Princess A'Nae" carved in

k hard, even if my dad is the boss. He owns the building where my mom works, and that's part of why she works part-time. Pops wants her to stay h

ar. What's the problem?" Well, let me tell you. There's this guy named 5. He's the one who practically runs Kinji. He doesn't even use his real name. Everyone calls him "5" like it's some big, mysterious thing. He and his goons-his workers-ride around in these bla

ia Prince," which is beyond ridiculous. Just because his father is the so-called 'Mafia King' doesn't mean Ashton's running anything. But, you know how people are

last name. Go figure. But, honestly, the school's like any othe

ers say it's Tony-but nobody knows for sure. Some people think he's a ghost, or like a shadow lurking in

raid of anyone. Sure, I'm small, but I've

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and grabbed my phone to turn off the alarm. 7 AM. Same old, same old. I let out a

I've got to get it together. After a minute, I stepped into the shower and let the hot water hit my skin. Honestly, there's nothing more relaxi

g my teeth. My mind wandered as I stared at my reflection. I couldn't help but think about Ashton again. His face always popped up in my mind, even when I didn't want it t

-picking out my outfit. Clothes are my thing. I decided to keep it casual but still cute. I grabbed a mint green shirt with "YMCMB"

to a high ponytail, smoothing out the curls before adding my black headband. There. I looked i

y to face whatever chaos awaited me at Waters High. I wasn't afraid of anyone. Not 5. Not