Page 1 of The Empress

Prologue

Leo

Leo Toscano; 16 Years old.

It’s after nine at night when Diego opens the front door, and taking one look at my busted lip, he shakes his head. My best friend grips hold of my arm and tugs me into the house.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he mutters, anger tightening his tone. He’s already dressed in the T-shirt and shorts he likes to sleep in.

I walk with him up the stairs, and reaching the second floor, I hear Mrs. Messina say, “No, Carina. Back to bed!”

“I want to see Leo,” Carina, Diego’s little sister, argues. Before anyone can stop her, she darts out of her bedroom and runs toward me, wearing the pink pajamas she loves so much.

When the six-year-old little girl plows into my legs, her big brown eyes look up at me, and I murmur, “Hey,stellina mia.”

She loves it when I call her ‘little star’. Usually, she’d smile, but not tonight. Instead, her eyebrows draw together and her bottom lip juts out. “Why are you bleeding?”

Bending, I pick her up, and even though it hurts to smile, I do. I’d do pretty much anything for Diego’s baby sister. “It’s nothing. Let me get cleaned up, then I’ll tuck you in.”

As I move to set her down, she wraps her arms around my neck, refusing to let go. “I want to stay with you.”

“Carina,” Mrs. Messina says with a stern tone while she gives me a compassionate look. “Now is not the time to be difficult.”

It’s not the first time I’ve come over after my father hit me. The Messina house is my safe haven when things get too rough at home.

I crouch down, setting Carina on her feet while tilting my head. “I’ll only be a few minutes,stellina mia.”

Reluctantly, she lets go of me and drags her feet back to where her mom is waiting. Mr. Messina must already be asleep, seeing as he has to be up at four for his shift.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Mrs. Messina says before nudging her daughter into her bedroom.

“Thanks for letting me come over,” I say quickly.

“You know you’re always welcome here, Leo,” she replies.

Diego jerks his head toward the bathroom, and when we go inside, I see my reflection in the mirror. “At least I don’t have a black eye tonight.”

He grunts, and pulling the first aid kit from the cupboard, he shakes his head again. “Just move in with us.”

“You know I can’t.” Things aren’t always shit at home. It’s only when my father has a really bad day.

With him being the head of the Italian mafia, those days are happening more and more frequently because another syndicate is trying to take over his territory.

Diego’s family isn’t a part of the mafia. When they found out my dad was the head of the mafia, they didn’t hold it against me, but Diego’s not allowed to come over to my house. I’m okay with that, though, because I love spending time here.

I watch as he removes an antiseptic wipe and begins to wipe the blood from my busted lip and chin. He always insists on taking care of me, so I don’t bother fighting him on it.

I’ll never admit it out loud, but it feels good to have someone take care of me.

“Why did he lose his shit this time?” Diego asks, anger still tightening his tone.

I focus on not flinching when the cut stings. “Another organization is trying to move into my father’s territory, and they’ve been attacking him.” I lock eyes with Diego as worry swirls in my gut. “I think he’s losing the fight.”

My friend’s eyebrows lift. “Seriously?” Concern tightens his features even more. “Isn’t it dangerous for you?”

I shrug, not wanting to think about what will happen if they manage to overthrow and kill my father. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He shakes his head again, and while he dabs ointment onto the cut, he mutters, “You should stay here. At least until the shit passes.”