Page 7 of Mafia Maiden

CHAPTERTHREE

I screamed as I threw a glass into the mirror of my vanity. The shattering sound barely computed in my brain as I continued on my path of destruction.

Looking around I grabbed an umbrella that was standing next to my bed and began smashing everything that I could find. Perfume bottles shattered and fell to the carpet, no doubt staining the once pristine space. The cloying smell nearly made me gag, but I was too fucking pissed to care.

“FUCK!” I screamed out as I smashed the umbrella into the TV. A small spark escaped as the glass cracked. It wasn’t enough to deter me. I continued beating the screen imaging it was my father’s face I based in as I released a primordial scream of rage.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I turned abruptly, my hair swinging into my face as I caught sight of my cousin. Natasha. Her brown eyes were wide as she surveyed the destruction of my room. My bed sheets were shredded from where I’d ripped them apart with my bare hands. A stray feather floated down around my face as I tried to catch my breath.

“Are you insane?” Natasha asked, striding inside.

“Don’t,” I warned. My mood was lethal, and while I loved Natasha, one wrong word, and I might use the umbrella in my hand to bash in her pretty face.

She must have noticed the look in my eyes as she backed away slightly. “What happened?”

Natasha was my cousin, best friend, and roommate in New York. She was also my complete opposite. With dark hair and dark eyes, Natasha looked sultry and exotic compared to my fairness. But she wasn’t. Natasha was sweet and kind, the perfect lady who made our grandmother proud.

I tried not to hold her Pollyanna nature against her.

I had always been a rule breaker as much as she was a rule follower. “I just returned from seeing my father.” I spit the sentence out. Calling him my father caused me physical discomfort at this point.

Natasha’s doe eyes looked around the room. “I take it that it did not go well?”

I gestured to the room. “How do you think it went?” I asked, frustrated by the question.

Natasha bit her lip, obviously frustrated that I had destroyed the room. I wasn’t surprised. She was the type of person who believed that approaching things with a calm manner was the best way to solve a problem. I loved Natasha, but sometimes I found her soppiness just as annoying as she found my propensity for anger.

“What happened?”

I bit my lip until I tasted blood in my mouth. I did not even know where to begin, and the more I thought about my interactions with my father and grandmother, the angrier I became.

“My father will be stepping down by the end of the year.”

Natasha’s eyes were so wide that I might have laughed at her expression had I not been in a foul mood. “I’m surprised,” she said, her voice high. “I did not think that he would ever retire. Not really.”

“Me neither,” I admitted.

Natasha snorted slightly. “You were hoping though. Ever since we were children, you’ve been waiting for your moment to take over the Pakhan.”

Her words cut through me like a knife. “I won’t be taking over as Pakhan.” I spit out the phrase with such venom that it nearly felt like they were burning my tongue. I could not believe that my father would do this to me.

“What?” Natasha asked. There was genuine surprise in her voice, and it nearly made me laugh. “That can’t be. You must have misheard.”

“I heard well enough when my father and our grandmother informed me that I would not be taking over as Pakhan, but instead, I will be marrying Papa’s successor.”

Natasha blinked rapidly as she tried to process the words, and I nearly wanted to laugh. I could hardly believe it myself, and yet, I was also not surprised. While I had always assumed that I would be Pakhan, a part of me knew that it was unlikely. The Bratva did not believe women were better for anything other than warming their beds and popping out their children.

Some part of me knew that they would not take kindly to a woman ruling them. But I never thought that my father would be influenced by such things.

Natasha released a heavy breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know how much you wanted this.”

“We needed this,” I snapped. “All of the women of the Bratva needed it.”

Natasha looked down at the carpet.

“You don’t agree with me?” I asked, trying not to allow myself to grow too frustrated with her. Natasha was the best friend that I had, and I could not afford to alienate her. As much as I appreciated being alone, I knew that I needed allies.

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