Page 1 of Mafia Baby

Chapter One

Gianna

“You will meet a dark and troubled man who will drown you with his ocean eyes.”

That’s all the psychic would tell me.

I knew she wasn’t talking about Guy, my ex. He was pale, British and he didn’t have blue eyes.

The only thing drowning in our former relationship was Guy’s liver from all the beer he drank. I thought I could save him, but it turned out he wasn’t troubled; he was just an alcoholic.

As I get on my flight to Chicago, I’m painfully aware that I haven’t been home in over two years and I have no idea what is waiting for me there.

Hopefully, it’s the dark and troubled man who is ready to drown me with his eyes. There’s nothing else about going back to my hometown that sounds exciting to me.

***

I’m home. But it doesn’t feel like I’m home.

Since my parents had decided that I should spend my high school and college years in a different country, the idea of home has been a foreign concept to me.

I actually thrived in boarding school and these last few years of college were full of friendships and happiness. But now that I have my degree in hand, and I’m single again, coming home to Chicago is my only option.

Logically, I know it’s the smartest thing to do right now, but my life in London was much more pleasant than the life I’m about to go back to in Chicago.

Standing in my childhood house, looking at the kitchen that has been renovated at least twice since I left, I feel like an imposter. My parents made it a policy to bring me home twice a year for holidays, but I’m just not used to spending more than a few weeks at a time in this house.

My mother is constantly fussing over my appearance, and I can already feel my patience dwindling. She’s been chatting at me about how excited she is to plan my birthday party since she picked me up from the airport.

It’s the first time in years that I’ve been home for my birthday. For my thirteenth birthday, my parents were in Italy, but they paid for my group of friends to be taken to Disney World.

My other birthdays were all celebrated at boarding school and I always received expensive gifts. They even sent me to Spain for my eighteenth birthday.

However, my parents were pretty much MIA for these celebrations.

So, I can see why my mother would feel the need to overcompensate this year. I could not care less, though. I have plenty of other things to think about – like what my life is going to look like now, in Chicago single and without any real purpose.

But I will indulge my mother with this party since she’s trying so hard.

“Would you prefer a vanilla cake, then, Gianna?” My mother sighs. She’s obviously been talking about the party while I zoned out.

“Mom, does it even matter? Most of your friends wouldn’t allow themselves to eat it anyway,” I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm despite my best efforts to be kind.

She doesn’t respond to me and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me to my own thoughts again.

I pull out my phone and dial the numbers of the few friends I still have in this part of the world. I need to get drunk tonight.

In London, I was much better behaved, studying and enjoying nights out at the theater with Guy. But I need to stop overthinking about my future and current situation right now and a few cocktails seem like the best way to do this.

***

It’s almost eleven and I’m doing my makeup to go out. I look at myself in the mirror and fluff up the roots of my honey-brown hair. It’s grown so long that it’s touching my hips now.

I couldn’t find a hair stylist I liked in London. Guy always complained about how long my hair was, but I wasn’t that keen to cut it, especially if I wasn’t comfortable with the stylist working on my hair.

Slipping my favorite red dress over my curvy body and stepping into a pair of stilettos, I smile at my reflection. I work out a lot, which makes showing off my figure even more fun.

Finishing up my outfit, I put on my signature maroon lipstick and put mascara on my eyelashes to bring out the green in my eyes.

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