The mafia and his lost queen

Chapter 1

Before any one of you comes and slits my throat apart (I might appreciate that too in the world that we live in), just hear me out. I re-edited this book and it turned out to be so much better than the shitty way I started to write 3 years ago. So the following 5 chapters are the final version that are also available on Amazon.

I hope you will love Ashton, Sophia, Massimo and little Everleigh as much as I do. And I really do hope that you feel love towards these characters. Ashton might not respond the same way, the others, I assure will.

Love you all!!!!! Stay happy. Always.

ASHTON

I brought the glass of alcohol to my lips, letting the burning liquid go down my throat. It ravished the inner beast within me, awakening the blood-hounding demons within and clawed at my skin to draw more blood. I relaxed back in the headrest, had my right ankle over my left knee, my body eased on the sofa as I looked around my surroundings, catching glimpses of each mafia don attending the meeting today.

The French, Americans, Russians, Australians and then us, the Italians.

The five of us crime lords were enough to rule all over our own countries, setting it ablaze in flames upon our liking or anyone's interruption.

My eyes raked over to all the other four leaders, their right-hands standing behind them, their spines straight and hands behind their backs. I took another sip of my drink when Etienne, the French mafia don, spoke up, his accent rolling smoothly through his tongue, "Let's put a break to this, Mr. Romanno. A truce is for the best."

I wore a three-piece suit: black suit pants, black suit coat but a white shirt. My muscles strained against my suit, and threatened to break free and tear the fabric, or better yet, break some skulls on the way. My hair was pulled back, I had a Rolex wrapped around my wrist, and cufflinks decorated the wrist area of my suit coat when my expression remained passive. I could feel veins popping against my arms, hands and forehead when I kept my ruthless-mafia-face on.

As soon as Etienne's words passed from his mouth and he stopped talking, I heard chairs scraping as everyone turned their bodies to look at me. But I didn't move an inch. I never bowed to anyone, nor did I ever show my eagerness to meet someone. I was never built that way. The more you show you are eager for someone, the more you resemble a pussy.

Sitting in my seat and keeping my head straight, I just moved my eyes till they landed on Etienne. He had this stupid sympathetic expression when my gaze found Vladimir, the Russian mob boss. He was looking at me with a shit-eating smirk when I replied calmly, keeping my gaze on Vladimir the entire time. My voice boomed clearly through the hollow dome, imprinting my words in their fucking skulls, "The Italians know how to play their games ... barking dogs don't."

Vladimir's face morphed into pure anger when I sensed another war coming on. Before he could start barking, I relaxed back in my seat, placed the glass of alcohol on the arm rest and continued, looking as calmly as ever at him, "You attacked my bases, I didn't. You led an ambush, I led a war. You pay for shit you started."

There were people talking all over the room, but I got up, not having the time for their stupidity. The whole table fell into silence as every head turned my way when I adjusted my suit coat and looked at them as I fastened a button: "Vladimir. Don't make me rain bullets on your empire again. Next time you try to enter Italy without my fucking permission is the day you end up bloody. The day you decide to wage an attack on me is when I wage fucking wars on you and end you for good. Mind it. You want a truce? You sign the papers. If not ...?" I didn't need to complete the rest of the sentence. I addressed the rest of the dons while I kept my eyes on the shit-eating piece of shit, "Gentlemen." I didn't spare a glance at the others and walked out.