Five Powerful Women Wanted Him—But the Mafia Boss Chose the Waitress

Liya was thrown roughly onto the cold concrete floor of an abandoned warehouse in the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

She gasped for air, her knees scraped and bleeding. When she looked up, she realized she wasn't just facing Lorenzo.

Sitting in elegant leather chairs in the center of the grimy warehouse were the remaining four heiresses. Isabella Falcone sat in the middle, sipping wine, looking like a queen presiding over an execution.

"Welcome to the real underworld, little bird," Isabella smiled, setting her glass down. "Lorenzo, you did well."

"I want my throne, Isabella," Lorenzo demanded, pacing nervously. "I delivered the bait. Now uphold your end of the bargain."

"Oh, you'll get exactly what you deserve," Isabella promised smoothly. She nodded to one of her guards.

Before Lorenzo could react, the guard raised a silenced pistol and shot him squarely in the chest. Lorenzo collapsed, his eyes wide in shock, dead before he hit the ground.

Liya screamed, scrambling backward against a rusted shipping container.

"Treason is such an ugly thing," Isabella sighed, standing up and walking toward Liya. "He actually thought we would let him rule. Men are so foolish."

Isabella crouched down in front of Liya, grabbing her chin tightly.

"My father has been looking for a woman named Eleanor for twenty-five years," Isabella hissed, her dark eyes flashing. "The bookkeeper who stole our ledgers. And imagine my surprise when my spies tell me that Adrian Moretti’s new little pet is Eleanor’s daughter."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Liya lied, her heart pounding.

"It doesn't matter," Isabella smiled wickedly. "We are going to use you to break Adrian permanently. And then, we are going to find your mother and finish what she started."

Suddenly, the lights in the warehouse cut out. Pitch blackness engulfed the room.

"What's going on?!" Isabella shrieked.