I used to think I was untouchable.
Not in the same way my cousins did. They went around strutting with gold chains and enough loud-mouthed confidence to get themselves killed. Most often than not, their victims were the ones who ended up getting killed.
I was different.
My name is Serena Vitale.
Don Enzo Vitale's only daughter. Which meant I lived behind a layer of bulletproof glass. People could look, but they knew better than to touch. In this city, my last name didn't just open doors; it unlatched them before I even hit the sidewalk. To be honest? The Mayor's title was a suggestion. My father's name was the law.
I had a closet full of clothes I barely repeated. A bodyguard named Rocco who spoke maybe ten words a day but could fold a grown man in half if necessary. A permanent Friday reservation at the most exquisite spa which I barely attended.
To the world, my father was a man of cold stone, but when he looked at me, he looked like he was seeing the sun for the first time.
It's a lot of pressure, being someone's entire sky. I never had to worry about my future. Empires were already waiting for me to be ready so I could inherit them.
My life was already settled.
Was.
Until everything fell part.
That night, I was standing in my bathroom arguing with myself about lipstick.
My entire life was about to be wrecked and I was worried about the shade of lipstick that would be best suited for my Papa's birthday dinner.
I tried on red and it seemed sharp. Too announcing.
Good. I liked that.
I came downstairs to the bustling noise of the whole Vitale estate. It was almost time. Fellow mob guests had already started trooping in.
I started to make touch ups on the final arrangements. Papa never really liked me working or handling stuff a staff could do but I never listened anyway.
The party was ravishing. Papa could never settle for anything less.
Everything in here had a story.
The main course dish of the dinner? It was named after the Bellini family.
The Belnara special.
Now you must be thinking a sentimental moment lies ahead but there's really not.
The Bellinis had come over for a peaceful gathering to celebrate their recent wins.
Carbonara was served.
Bellini looked at the food with disdain and shoved it aside. Meanwhile a spoon full was already in papa's mouth.
Bellini didn't have to speak more but he did. He said carbonara was his worst dish and he would rather die than have it.
I slowly dropped my fork on the table. I knew this wouldn't end well.
Something else was said and Bellini started laughing. Papa laughed. I laughed.
Every one at that table knew that was going to be Bellini's last time laughing. Everyone except Bellini.
Until he was dragged to the "Cold room". I wouldn't want to explain why it's called that.
I heard screams until there was none. His tongue was cut out and that was just because Papa liked Bellini. Like actually liked him.
Someone else would have gotten their hands chopped off alongside their tongue. Whatever organ would have been useful in getting food into their body systems.
So now this main dish is called "The Belnara special" as a tribute to him.
The timing of this event was 8:45:37 pm. The exact minute and second mattered.
Papa outsmarted a rival syndicate a month ago and seized the Moretti empire at exactly 8:45 pm. It took 37 seconds to end the entire bloodline.
What better time to host my birthday dinner, he thought.
Papa is and has always been petty.
Outside, I could hear a commotion so I went to check what was happening.
Ah, the Rosettis.
They were requesting in on the event.
"Once the Vitales know you're keeping us standing, I'll have them fire you. You'll have no where else to work! Do you hear me?"
Noella Rosetti was screaming at a bouncer who gave her no face, with the same tone she used to size me up at a fashion gala and told me I had poor taste in fashion.
I was trained to never involve in ugly discussions in public so I only smiled and walked out.
"What is going on here?" I ask the soldier fully knowing what was going on there.
"Serena. Finally! Come here and explain to your bouncer what a fool he's being. He's saying we are not on the invitation list but I know that isn't possible. We're one of the most influential families in town !"
I ignore her.
The soldier turns to me now and starts to explain they came with a fake invitation card.
One of the Rosetti family members raises their card up with all dignitary.
"It's fake". I look them straight in the eye.
They exchange a puzzled look within themselves. Noella starts to catch up on what happened. There's a knowing glint in my eyes and I know she sees it.
They were sent a fake invitation card so they would arrive and be insulted in this way.
I would love to say this was Papa's doing but it wasn't. It was mine.
Papa can't have all the fun.
"You bitch. I know what you did. You are—"
I didn't let her finish her statement. I signaled for one of our men to drag them out. And he did.
As a lady full of grace…
And then I heard a thud.
If I hadn't been in the mafia dynamics for as long as I had breath in me, I would have mistaken the sound for fireworks.
But it wasn't. It couldn't have been. The last time I got to play with fire works was when I was 5. Same with every other Vitale child . Once you've turned 7, you're welcome into the family's politics.
That sound was a gunshot. 3 more simultaneously came in.
I rushed into the vitale building and every where was in chaos.
Everyone at the event tried to keep their calm to understand where the gunshots were coming from.
Then another one came from outside.
The shooter had targeted so well that this time , it landed straight in Papa's chest.
Papa's regal attire was now stained in crimson red.
I had witnessed so many attacks before but this one seemed final.
The screaming in the Vitale estate started to get worse. All the mafia men and women had their guns out, simultaneously shooting not minding where their gun shots were landing at.
I was standing in the middle of it all. Soldiers had began to surround my papa. I wanted to go nearer. I wanted to reach him.
Papa had warned me to always take cover whenever an assassination was occurring so I was always trained to hide which was why I didn't have a single weapon with me.
I sneaked in a table knife which was quite useless.
"Miss Vitale, we'll handle it. Please come with us." Rocco, my chief bodyguard, was by my side now.
I could see a faint image of my father. He was loosing consciousness.
"Are you asking me to run to safety when my father is lying almost lifeless in his chair?"
"Miss Vitale, you should know we have strict instructions from your father to always keep you safe in situations like this"
Nonsense. People forget sometimes. I am not just Don Enzo's daughter in name. I was raised in those rooms. I know how things work. I know who watches, who whispers, who waits.
I was done listening to them. I let Rocco think I had surrendered and then I grabbed his gun. Rocco would never had been this easily overthrown but as the mafia don's supposed "harmless daughter" , no one would think I would attempt taking the gun from him.
I rushed to my papa's side. They all knew better than to stop me even amidst the chaos.
Everything inside me went still. The noise around me kept going, but inside my head there was nothing. Just one thought.
No.
Uncle Matteo was already with him. When he looked up at me, I saw fear on his face. I had never seen that before.
I crossed the room. Marco tried to grab my arm.
"Serena, wait—"
I looked at him until he let go.
My father was breathing. The bullet had torn through his shoulder. There was blood everywhere, but his eyes were still open.
They found mine immediately.
"Papà." I uttered with a whispering voice.
Papa always taught me to never waver. Even in the darkest of situations. Never let the enemy take pride in your defeat.
"Listen to me." His voice was thin, but his hand around my wrist was steady. "Do not let Matteo make decisions without you."
Uncle Matteo was too distracted with the situation to hear him.
"You're going to be fine."
"I will be fine," he said, like he was humoring me. "But listen anyway. If this turns worse. If they try again. There is only one person in this city strong enough to protect you."
I already knew the name.
"You cannot be serious."
"You know who," he said.
I did.
And I hated that I did.
His eyes closed before I could argue. Rocco was shouting for the doctor. Someone was calling for cars to be brought around. The room felt smaller and smaller by each second.
I stood there holding my father's hand and, against my will, thinking about a boy I had trained myself not to think about.
Luca Ferrante.
He had dark eyes capable of piercing through your soul. A crooked smile that could talk his way out of anything.
The head of the Ferrante family.
He used to throw small stones at my bedroom window and whisper principessa like he was teasing me, but also not.
That was years ago before he became head of his family.
Now he was back in the city after five years abroad. Colder. Quieter. Smarter.
Our fathers had spent three decades trying to ruin each other.
I looked down at my hands. They were covered in blood. My father's blood.
There is no world where I go to him, I told myself.
My phone buzzed.
I did not need to see the name to know who it was but I could recognize that number if it flashed on a billboard.
" I heard about your father. I'm sorry".
I stared at the message until another one came through.
"When you're ready. You know where to find me".
Of course he did.
I looked up. Around me, things were already shifting. Men were whispering in corners. Matteo was speaking too loudly on the phone. Eyes sliding to my direction, measuring what this meant.
Who would lead if my father could not.
My father was right. I could feel it settling in my bones whether I liked it or not.
There was only one person with enough reach to shield me and strike back without hesitation.
And it was the last person I ever wanted to owe.