Mafia King: A Mafia Royals Novella, Rachel Dyken [i am malala young readers edition .txt] 📗

I gritted my teeth. “I’m not old.”

“And I’m not a virgin.”

I smirked. “I’ll just add that to the long list of things to tell your dad after the two weeks are over, then.”

“Two weeks? What do you mean, two weeks? You’re done. You were done days ago.”

My turn to offer a smug grin as I leaned in and whispered in her ear, “We’re going on vacation. And I was just blessed with the job of being your shadow. Happy early birthday.”

She gasped, stumbling backward. “He wouldn’t.”

“He would. He did. He’s mafia, what did you expect? A normal birthday party with a piñata while your cousins got married on the beach?”

“Okay, first off, that’s not normal for a grown-ass woman. Second, he said it was a gift, the vacation. For my birthday. Third, it was only supposed to be my cousins and me, my favorite cousins—you aren’t one of them! And I may have completely forgotten about the elopement.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not your cousin, Tiny!”

Her nostrils flared. “Believe me, I know. At least my cousins know how to shoot, and fight, and—”

I grabbed her by the arm and flipped her back against her car, causing her sunglasses to fall to the ground as her body arched up to meet me. “I’m the fucking government. I’m the one who arrests you for doing things…shall we say, improper? I’m your new judge, jury, and executioner. If you so much as break any laws, mafia or mine, I will report it. I may not be blood, but I know our rules and I serve the Family, not you. NEVER. You. Do you feel me?”

Her breath hitched, and then she bucked her hips against mine and whispered, “Oh…was that it, then? I. Felt. Nothing.”

I jerked back, only to have her hand grab at my dick. “Ah, there it is... Pity, for a man so large, you seem so very… Small.”

I shoved her hand away and grabbed at her tits. “Same, Tiny. Same.”

Her eyes widened in rage, but I was already walking in the other direction despite her cussing and yelling.

Two weeks in hell.

Two weeks with Satan’s mistress.

Two weeks left, and my fate with the mafia would be decided.

I just hoped I survived the cursed princess.

And the mean streak she seemed to have developed overnight.

A job.

It was a job.

And I was trained for everything.

So Kartini Abandonato?

Not a problem.

Never.

If anything, I was about to raise hell with her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

I smiled the entire drive to my friend Ash’s house.

Time to spar.

Time to imagine blood on my hands.

Time to feel.

Time to let go of the numbness.

And exist.

Outside of whatever fucking Kartini Abandonato had to offer.

Chapter One

Kartini

One Year Ago…

I was dancing on my dad’s shoes as if I were still fourteen or younger when, really, I was seventeen going on eighteen. Wow, another year younger, and I’d be in the Sound of Music.

Sigh.

My dad was my everything.

Strong.

Brave.

Compassionate.

Oh, yeah, and he was sort of like a made man, killer, and doctor to the Five Families of Chicago.

Shrug.

But I never really saw him as this evil person; I couldn’t. Not with his gentle smile, his fierce protectiveness, and the way he always looked at me like I was his world.

And every single time, I believed it.

Because my father may kill the bad guys to keep me safe, he may save the assassins by stitching them up, but one thing my father was not was a liar.

“You’re getting too old,” he grumbled, spinning us again as we danced at my cousin’s wedding.

I loved that even in his early fifties, he looked better than Brad Pitt. People always asked me why my dad was so young. Well, folks, he’s not young. He’s just an Abandonato, through and through.

I mean, seriously, what did they put in the water? I giggled as I looked around at all my tatted-up uncles, the bosses, the badasses of the Cosa Nostra.

They were the law.

And it treated them well.

Just like aging.

I sighed as Breaker and Violet came out onto the dance floor. My cousin and her husband were perfect for each other, happy in every way I craved.

As much as I knew what was expected of me in the Family, I also had this small hope that it wouldn’t just be about killing for blood, protecting, dying one day—that it would be about an actual family.

Mine.

I wanted kids.

Not one.

Not two.

I literally wanted a plethora of them—something I was sure would send any sane man screaming into the night. But that was the guy you didn’t want—the screamer. Nah, I wanted the yeller, the one who announced to everyone and everything how much he loved me, how much he loved his kid despite having a continuous trail of ketchup down his designer shirt.

I wanted the warmth.

The love.

What my parents had raised me in.

And what I’d craved growing up—more siblings, despite all the family I already had.

With a sigh, I pulled back from my dad as he leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Dad…” I shrugged. “Are any of us ever just okay?”

His eyes darted from left to right, and then he rolled them. “You’re too smart.”

“I’m your kid.”

“Yes.” His nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened. “You. Are.”

“Dad—”

“Don’t Dad me.” He pulled me close again. “Let them all see how much I love my daughter. Let them know how precious you are, how I would move mountains, oceans, skies—you are mine, and one day, you’ll look at someone with those gorgeous blue eyes and see the world. One day, it won’t be me on the other end of that awestruck look you’ve always worn on your face. One day, I will walk you down an aisle, I will give you to another man, and I will feel lost. So fucking lost, Tiny. Because how does a protector? A man? A father? Trust something so precious in the hands of someone who’s not his own?”

Tears filled my eyes as I smiled up into perfection. The