Page 4 of The Boss

“Wasn’t interested. So he’s gay?”

“Oh, definitely not. Has a reputation with women.”

“Then he’s a liar. Anyone with eyes has beeninterestedin my daughter since she was thirteen.”

Daughter.

Me. They’re talking about me.

No no no no no!

“I know, but he said she wasn’t his type. He only started listening once I got to the dowry and the marriage contract. Which he insists must include our help with his current headache in the city.”

Papa spews a string of curses in Italian but my mind is spinning so fast I’m missing things. Marriage contract? What city? Who the hell are they talking about?

Wait.

No.

Hell no.

Doesn’t matter who or what they’re talking about because this is not the plan. This is not happening. I’m going to marry Bosco. That’s always been my future.

Papa and I have danced around the subject for years. I can’t exactly walk in and make demands, since I’m just “his little angel” with her shopping trips and pretty cello hobby. I always knew I wouldn’t marry for love, especially when I was paraded around at events like an auction prize, just waiting for bidders.

But I’ve hinted and made suggestions about what I wanted. He said he’d keep me in the family, keep me close. Said he’d trust me to keep an eye on things as he nears retirement. I’ve even dropped Bosco’s name, more than once.

I hear the scrape of chairs on the floor next door.

“Fine,” Papa stands up, I think. “Get the updated contract sent over today. I want this done.”

“Yes,Padrone.But, uh,” Bosco stammers, as usual. I roll my eyes, as usual. “She, um, she—”

“I’ll handle little Luna. You handle the rest, Bosco. Now.”

Handle me.

Damn.

I hear Bosco leaving in the back of my brain but mostly I hear my own internal screaming.

Maybe I have done this all wrong, my plan. My life.

I thought if I played the gorgeous yet non-threatening, dutiful yet strong, smart but not too smart, regal, pure,virginmafia princess, I’d end up right where I needed to be for my rightful coup. This is a man’s world, so I played to the desires of men. I didn’t show my cards.

To Papa, I’ve been the perfect daughter. I’m loyal, adoring and aloof enough to not be a bother. I know he’s used me and my oh-so-sacred-virginity to lure in partnerships over the years. Hehinted at marrying me off in the future to various men, including that one Canadian boss who got too close. That guy mysteriously (to everyone but me and my hired hacker) went bankrupt overnight.

To the underworld, I am oblivious. Another sweet, silly, sexy mafiosa.

To Bosco, I’ve been a flirt. I made my interest in him clear, but in a cute, girl-crush kind of way. He believes I think he’s a big, brave, handsome genius. I scoff and drop the violin into my lap as I hear the man driving away outside.

He is big, one of the tallest men in our ranks. I can admit he’s handsome, and one doesn’t become a made man without some measure of bravery. But he has no strategic vision. No spine. No grit. His first kill was in his twenties, not even his late teens. He only speaks two languages. He worked his way to number two by being a “Yes Man.” He should stay number two.

Mynumber two.

Bosco and Papa think I just want to shop, party and play housewife.

Only my best friends—Ellie, her sister Mia and my cousin, Zeno—know the truth.