The Mafia’s Princess

1. Introduction

I’ve been gone for the last six years, not expecting to miss home. You think I would want to stay away for as long as possible, knowing the fate I have waiting for me. I just can’t help but feel like I’ve left everything that’s ever mattered to me back home.

‘Home’ I thought.

I belonged there, no matter how much I despise the family I was born into. Sometimes I just wish I could have a normal life, but normalcy wasn’t destined for me.

I am the heir to the Genovese crime family. Being a child of the mafia isn’t something you dream of being. It’s something you're stuck with and never able to outrun the blood that runs through your veins.

I was raised to be a ruthless killer and to never take s**t from anybody. Being an Italian and being raised by the Italian mafia will teach you some things you never knew existed. This life isn’t cut out for morals and kindness, I learned that a long time ago.

My parents were murdered when I was three years old. I barely remember them. I have spurts of memories of them here and there, but other than that, nothing. My grandfather took me in after they died, teaching me everything I know to this day.

He’s the Don of the Genovese crime family. His son, my father, was supposed to take over for him when the time came, but he chose not too. He actually ran off with my mother and started a family elsewhere, but that didn’t go as planned. The mafia will always find you and suck you back into this shitty world.

The whole reason my father ran off was because it was forbidden for him to date my mother, considering she wasn’t Italian. She was black, and he loved her dearly. He did everything in his power to keep us safe, but in the end they both succumbed to what they had been running away from for so many years.

Death.

You would think my grandfather wouldn’t take me in, considering he had a lot to do with not accepting my mother as my fathers bride. At the end of the day, I was his blood, so he had no choice but to take me in.

I mean he got what he wanted in the end, an honorable heir.

My grandfather taught me to be a skilled fighter. I’m able to take down anybody, no matter how big they are compared to me. It’s not about the size, it’s all about skill anyways. My grandfather even taught me how to use every weapon known to man in this world. I am a sharpshooter and never miss a target. He taught me at the age of six how to use a gun, and I’ve been shooting guns ever since. It made it even better, considering we controlled the gun trade that came in and out of New York, along with other states. If you wanted gun shipments, you had to come through us. We made most of our money off of guns and the rest off of drugs.

I left home around the age of eighteen, after a disaster happened. I mean I wouldn’t necessarily call it a disaster. It was more like revenge to me, but everyone else would consider it to be a disaster.

You see I was arranged to be married to another Italian man who was in the mafia, just from another family. He was the heir and set to take over as a Don when he came of age, but he didn’t live to see that day.

I fell in love with that man like a naive child, not knowing he would rip my heart out and stomp on it. So I don’t regret anything I did that came after the betrayal he caused me. Maybe if he would have kept his d**k in his pants, then everything would have turned out differently. I wouldn’t change a single moment of killing him and making sure he suffered every step of the way.

It was inevitable anyways.

Me killing him wasn’t just revenge for me, it was a way out of the life I once knew and despised. I didn’t know it was a way out, until my grandfather caught wind of what I did. He shipped me off as soon as he could, covering up every ounce of the killing that I committed. If he didn’t, we would have had a war between our families. War isn’t the best thing in this kind of world. War means more money lost, and none of us can afford the loss of money.

So I went to college overseas in Cambridge. Once I finished my four years there, I was supposed to come home, but I didn’t. I traveled to China to look more into tech and coding. I wanted to acquire more knowledge about a certain type of tech so I could build more skill in that area.

I like to think of myself as a very skilled hacker. The last year I have been a hacker for hire and have made more money than most people my age. I have even used my mercenary skills to get some covert operations completed. It was even better that my photographic memory came in handy, helping me remember every little important thing my eyes took in.

Who knew people could be so merciless in China? Enough to want to pay millions to have people gunned down.

“We will be touching down at the JFK airport in Brooklyn, New York in the next five minutes.” The pilot said out over the speakers of the plane.

I sipped my champagne as I looked out the window of my first class seat. I admired the city below me, knowing it was inevitable for me to keep avoiding this place. It was time for me to come back, no matter how much I was regretting it.

I was home again.