Page 1 of Claiming the Mafia Queen

Chapter 1

Aria

There’sawargoingon. I’m supposed to be shaken up by it, but I won’t be. I don’t have the time. I don’t have the give-a-damn, either. When you get older, there’s a certain trait that sort of leaves you. Well, maybe it doesn’t leave you as much as if you just chuck it off to the side and watch as it burns. It’s the exact same trait that makes you give a flying shit about anything. And I’m done worrying about things I can’t control …and about the way people think of me.

I don’t have time to worry about what other people are doing.

I’ve got enough of my own shit to deal with.

Chicago used to only have one family — known as the Outfit — but years ago the Morino and Lorenzo families formed, and off of them, came a whole lot more families vying for a slice of the pie.

The only difference?

These families are nothing but thugs begging for control.

They aren’t real families.

Just a bunch of idiots getting together for a payday and calling themselves families for more clout.

There's no team among them.

There’s no loyalty.

There’s no honor.

That’s one of the many reasons that none of them bother me. To me, it’s just business as usual. It has to be. There’s no way a bunch of wannabe gangsters are going to do anything to hurt me or my empire.

“So, what do we need to do?” Luigi, my new right hand man, asks as he leans across the card table.

I shrug. “We keep doing what we always do,” I say. “It’s business as usual. They can’t hurt us.”

After all, what choice do we have?

I have two families to run. I don’t have time to think about what-ifs.

Up until it happens to you, you don’t even think it’s possible. It’s the kind of thing you just hear rumors about. It’s something you pity, but at the end of the day, you’re actually just thankful it happened to them instead of you.

You just end up being happy that your shit show of a life isn’t as bad as their shitshow of a life.

But what if, that one time, itisyou?

I let my head rest against the wall for a split second, my chest heaving from panic. I can’t believe I’ve just been shot. I can’t believe at least thirty of my best men have just been killed.

We’ve been attacked.

On our home turf.

A war has been established against both my families, and right now, it’s looking pretty bleak for me. I can’t tell if the echoing bangs surrounding me are playing in a loop at the forefront of my mind or if there are still that many shots ringing out.

Every time I hear someone run, another bang echoes.

Another one bites the dust,I think bitterly, as I wonder if I’ll ever get off this wall. But then…

Silence.

It’s a strange thing.

Foreign at this point, even…but I have a gut feeling that this nightmare is far from over.

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