As the driver steers the vehicle through the heavy iron gates, I fist my hands on my lap, staring at my fingers that are white around the knuckles.
Before tonight, I didn’t like Mom marrying Peter, but now I hate it.
I’ve seen what happened to my friends from school, and a couple of my cousins, who were raised as mafia princesses. They were nothing but puppets. Social butterflies used to decorate the arm of whatever man they were forced to marry. Every single one of them is stuck in an abusive and unhappy marriage with a man they don’t love.
God, no. That’s no life at all.
They’re going to take away my independence. I just know it. I’ll be expected to obey every command from them and will no longer have a say over my life.
I’ll have to give up my dreams.
I need to do something. I can’t just become another mafia princess.
I focus on taking deep breaths as the SUV takes me to the other side of the city.
As soon as the SUV stops in front of my building, I dart out of the car. I don’t wait to see what the driver does, and skipping the elevator, I rush up the stairs. Only when I shut the front door behind me, do I stop to suck in deep breaths.
Calm down. It’s probably not as bad as you think.
The relief of finally being in my own private space washes soothingly through my veins.
That’s better. No use overreacting.
It’s just Sunday lunches and one event a month. It’s doable.
But the guards?
I flick on the light and glance over my sanctuary. Everything is decorated in white and light blue. No spaces are cluttered. The only additions to the actual furniture are potted plants, lending a natural feel to the tranquil ambience.
I purchased the apartment and furnished it with the money I received from my share of the inheritance. I also paid for my studies with the money my father left for me.
Mom only pays for my monthly living expenses.
But what will happen once she’s married to Peter Stathoulis? Will he take control of her finances and use my monthly expenses as a way to control me?
God, what if Nikolas is given control over my expenses? Over my every move?
That would be a nightmare!
I need to find a job to make sure that doesn’t happen. As soon as possible.
The need to keep a tight control over my life has me darting away from the front door. I quickly change into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, tie my hair back in a ponytail, then sit down on the plush couch with my laptop.
As I start creating a resume and search through the job listings, I find my equilibrium again.
Chapter 4
Nikolas
It’s almost eleven p.m. when I walk into the private room at the high-end bar reserved for the meeting. It smells like leather, cigars, wealth, and power.
I notice Liam and Gabriel are already seated at the table. Liam’s the oldest of the group, where Gabriel’s the same age as me. Luca’s only five years my junior, and Viktor’s the youngest at twenty-five.
Not that age matters when it comes to power.
“Gentlemen,” I murmur as I take a seat. We’re all dressed in crisp Armani suits.
My greeting is returned with curt nods.
We might not be best friends, but there’s a vow of loyalty that makes us the most dangerous group of men on Earth. Fuck with one, and you have to face off with the Priesthood.
It makes us invincible.
We all took a blood oath when we were sworn in, and the only way out is death.
As a server comes to take my drink order, Luca and Viktor stride into the room with the potency of the entire Italian mafia and bratva in every single step.
No one says a word until we all have something to drink, and the server shuts the door behind him. Tension vibrates in the air.
As always, Luca takes a sip of his bourbon then makes eye contact with each of us before settling his gaze on me. “I hear you’re having trouble with the Sicilians.”
“They’re trying to move into my territory.” My eyes move to Liam. “Do you know anything about it?”
Liam takes a slow sip of his drink, his unwavering gaze locking with mine. “I’ve driven them out of my city.”
And now they’re my problem. Just fucking great.
“What can you tell me about them?”
“Antonio Manno’s the head,” Liam mutters, hatred for the scum brimming in his voice.
I already know that bit of info.
Luca settles comfortably back in his chair. “He’s not part of the Cosa Nostra.”
That’s good to hear.
“It’s taken me eight years to drive them out of Chicago.” Liam gives me a look of warning. “You better get rid of them before they set down roots.”
“I plan on doing that.”
Viktor, whose father is a custodian for the best assassin alive and previous head of the bratva, offers me a grin. “Just say if you need Manno eliminated.”