My Desire for the Mafia King

Anabelle Alfonso

They say a woman is powerful when she knows exactly what she wants. In this case, I knew exactly what I wanted and I was going to make sure I got it. They made me into a deadly weapon, taught me how to kill and I would use it to kill them.

I looked at my computer to make sure my coordinates matched up with the club I was heading to tonight. The red dots blinked twice, indicating that the shipments had just left the warehouse and were now heading to the club. I went through the plan in my head again, tracker, in, truck, out. Then I'd have a pinned location on my target.

Well, hopefully, if he hadn't caught on already.

I would do far worse than torture that asshole once I got my hands on him. I'd make him hurt in every way possible and take his organization down with him. I was so close to making him pay now after all these years.

I took the straightener through the last strand of my dark curly hair that fell a little past my hips, checking my makeup in the mirror again. I slipped my black heels on, grabbing my black clutch purse and black trench coat before I grabbed the strap that held my gun and knives, clipping it onto my thigh. I had decided on a black dress with a slit going up the side for tonight. The first step I took out of the room I stopped at the picture frame I had sitting on my side table. It was the only picture I had of my family. I stared at my beautiful mother's smile and the way she hugged my three brothers and me. With love.

A fire started to spread throughout my body, making me clench my purse tightly. My nails were digging into the thick fabric, making the desire to end the life of the person who took everything away from me even stronger than before.

With one last glance at the picture, I walked out of the door and made my way down the hallway of my apartment building in New York. I lived on the highest floor because I liked having a view of the whole city. It made me feel like I could see everything.

A couple walked past me in the hallway, the girl not making any eye contact with me as her boyfriend checked me out, winking. I rolled my eyes.

Asshole.

My heels clicked against the marble floor as I stepped out of the elevator and into the luxurious lobby of my apartment.

"Hello Miss Alfonso, you look lovely tonight," Jona, the apartment's doorman, greeted me with a smile like he always does. He was retired from the military. He stood there all day greeting people in and out but still managed to put a smile on my face every time I walked out of the elevator.

If he only knew the trouble that I got into, he wouldn't be talking to me.

"Hi Jona, thank you," I greeted him back with a smile.

"Heading off to another fancy club? Who's the lucky gentleman tonight?" he asked. I've told him from time to time that I go out to clubs to have fun and he believes me, I mean, I am twenty-two.

What fun is it to sit in your apartment all day?

I wouldn't say what I do is fun, but typically, when I'm dressed nice and heading out late, he knows I'm going out to a club or elsewhere so he doesn't ask much.

"Yeah, something like that and I don't belong to anyone cuz I don't think anyone could handle me," I answered him and he laughed at my statement. I waved goodbye to him as I headed out the door. The cold air stuck to my skin making me shiver as the wind blew through my hair.

I made my way to my Mercedes, quickly getting in and starting the car to head to my restaurant first before going to the club so I could get the tracker from James.

Almost ten minutes later, I opened the door to my restaurant and the smell of carne asada filled the area. This restaurant was owned by my father but now it was mine. I made some- well a lot of changes to it, which was very fucking expensive, but I made good money off of it anyway so it evened out.

Chandeliers hung over every table and reflected off of them to the marble floors and the paintings that hung on the matching marble walls.

I spotted James, my best friend, at the register looking bored out of his mind until he spotted me, a smile growing on his face as I walked over to him.

"Where are you going looking that hot without me?" he asked even though he knew where I was going.

He leaned over the counter, his dirty blonde hair falling into his face causing him to push the mess back with his hand. I wouldn't lie and say that James was unattractive, because it was obvious to see that he was far from it, but we were strictly just best friends. Nothing had ever happened between us and we both knew that nothing ever would.

"Nowhere important," I muttered, rolling my eyes playfully at him as I went behind the counter.

"Do you have the tracker ready for me?'' I asked him.

James was a pro at computers and anything related to them, but he was a good fighter too. I met him when I was a teenager while I was still living with the Russians. He's been working for me here and helping me with other things. He's also the only one who knows what happened.

"I do," he said sternly, still standing there and not moving to get me what I needed. I grew aggravated at him and he fucking knew it. He just loved to piss me off knowing I wouldn't kill him.

"Okay, well move your ass and get it for me before I fire you," I said, and he just tilted his head, smiling at me. I hardened my glare at him and he dropped his smile, finally starting to move. He came back a second later handing me the tracker I needed.

"Thank you," I mumbled softly. "Did I ever tell you that you're the sweetest, James?" I asked, kind of feeling bad that I was giving him attitude.

"What are friends for?" he muttered, walking away while grabbing menus for the group of people that walked in.

"Be careful please," he told me while walking backwards. I rolled my eyes at him. He knows I can protect myself. I've been doing it my whole life.

I walked out of the restaurant and back to my Mercedes, starting it and heading to the club.

I decided to park a block away when I finally arrived, not too close and not too far, in case I needed to get out of there fast. The block was filled with people from the club, most of them drunk already. I took my trench coat off and decided to leave my purse, only taking the tracking device and sticking it in my bra.

Once I made it inside, it automatically smelled like cannabis and sweat. The music played loud enough that I could feel it in my chest.

Fuck, this was going to be a long night.

I scanned all the exits and looked for anything suspicious. I spotted a hallway in the back, probably a way to get to the backend of the club where the trucks would be loaded. Two men, not too big but not small either, stood in front of the door blocking it. If I needed to, I could most likely take them down easily. I looked at the upstairs section, quickly scanning for any other men who looked like they'd be working for a mob boss.

I spotted some on each corner as I made my way to the bar, not thinking I'd be able to do this sober.

I ordered two shots of vodka, eyeing the bartender to make sure he didn't slip anything in them in case he recognized me, but he handed them to me untouched. I took both and then turned around as I leaned against the counter so I could get a better look at my surroundings.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a man a couple of feet next to me ordering a drink. I glanced at him not noticing his presence till now. I didn't even see him when he walked up.

He had black hair that fell in his face as he leaned down against the counter. I could only see his side profile, but from what I could tell, he looked like the finest guy I'd ever seen in all my twenty-two years of living. He had on a grey suit. A skull tattoo sat on the side of his hand and a skull ring on one of his fingers. He glanced at me and we made eye contact. There was something warm in his eyes that I couldn't put my finger on.

From that moment, it was like a fire started between us. I blinked, trying to shake the feeling away. He scanned down my body and then back to my face. I started to feel a slight nervousness take over me at his stare, but I didn't break eye contact. I stared into his brown eyes and took in the features I couldn't see from the side. He looked young, maybe in his early twenties. He studied my face for a little longer before I decided to speak.

"You can stop eye-fucking me now," I mumbled to him and I watched as a little smile peaked through his face and gosh he was gorgeous.

He laughed quietly and looked away, but I still stared at his beautiful features. He suddenly turned his body around to face me and then stared at me more, eyes raking down my body effortlessly. Not caring that I told him to stop looking at me.

His eyes seemed to see right through me, burning into my own and through my dress.

I looked away, trying to ignore him. I needed to focus on why I was here.

I spotted two guys standing on the other side of the bar and then another slipping in on the opposite side all wearing suits. I took a long look at all of them. Two of them had brown eyes like the guy next to me and dark hair, except for one guy who had blueish eyes and lighter hair. I looked back to the guy that I just had a staring contest with and came to the conclusion that they were here together. Maybe?

They were most likely working undercover by the way they looked at each other without speaking.

I wondered if they were here to kill me, but no one knew how I looked so I didn't worry. I only worried about the Russians; they were the only people who had an idea of how I looked and the only ones who wanted me. I wouldn't be surprised if the Russians recognized me, but I honestly didn't care. I would love to kill them all.

The only reason as to why they could be here is if the Russians did something to piss them off or, of course, other reasons, but that was the only one that came to mind.

They didn't look familiar or looked like they were a mafia. I would've known. So, I guessed maybe a low-ranked cartel? Or people that wanted power, but the guy next to me seemed like he had enough of that already.

I knew of one big mafia in New York, but that couldn't have been him. Could it?

This was the only place that the Russian's men and trucks would be at tonight, except for the boss, but it was close enough to get information on where his location was. And that was probably what they wanted. After all, the Russians had a lot of enemies and I couldn't keep up with all of them.

I looked up at the back doors and noticed that one guy was missing. The other looked me straight in the eye before looking away quickly, like he didn't want to catch my attention, but he just fucking warned me.

Idiot.

I quickly scanned the rest of the club and saw a couple of guys staring straight at me. I looked upstairs and saw a guy walking down sharing glances with the other guys. I looked to my left exit and saw it was blocked and the right exit was being blocked too.

I looked at the mysterious guy next to me as he stared at me and then his gaze wandered off to where I was looking before he quickly glanced at the guys on the other side of the bar.

The guy who walked down the stairs headed towards me at a fast pace, making his way through the crowd of bodies.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Well, maybe if I hadn't been so distracted by the guy next to me, I would've noticed something was wrong.

"Oh fuck," I muttered and turned the other way quickly, walking fast through the sweaty bodies of people dancing.

I didn't get far before a guy stepped in front of me making me stop. I turned back around, but the guy who was already headed toward me stood in front of me with a gun pointed at my head.

Screams filled the club and people were quickly clearing out. I rolled my eyes at their lack of responsibility for their club. They didn't even care that this may get reported.

I stood in front of his gun as he pointed it directly at my head, but he didn't shoot. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, " I mumbled, knocking the gun out of his hands and sending it flying across the floor. Gunshots suddenly filled the small club.

I swiftly blocked his punches and then kneed him in his stomach. He hunched over in pain and I took my gun out from my strap and shot him in his arm, sending him on his knees screaming. I looked over to see the guy I stood next to at the bar behind tables shooting at people above us.

What the hell?

I tried to sort through my confusion, but I couldn't stand there all day so I turned around and quickly shot at two guys behind me who fell to the ground in seconds.

More gunshots got fired at me and I quickly rushed over to hide behind one of the tables. I ducked under the closest one and it so happens that I hid behind the same table as the man that distracted me. To be fair he was gorgeous so who wouldn't get distracted by a pretty face like his?

I rolled my eyes out of irritation that I didn't know him or what the hell he was doing here.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked me, as if he had just read my mind, while still shooting at the Russians like he did this all fucking day.

"Tell me who you are first and maybe I'll answer you. Even though that tone isn't gonna get you anywhere," I glowered at him, throwing his questions back at him, but he didn't answer, giving me a glare that meant death in so many ways.

"I asked you first, Carina, and take your advice; don't give me that attitude," he fumed, his voice rough with dominance. Did he just speak Italian to me?

Italian mob.

But he still looked too young.

"I can't help it, it's a part of my personality," I mumbled sarcastically. He gave me a hard look, but before he could respond, someone grabbed my hair from behind me. Shit.

I quickly elbowed them, and they let go. I turned around and punched them in the face, realizing it was the guard I had seen earlier. I looked down for my gun, quickly figuring out that I had dropped it.

"Hey," a husky voice called from behind me. I turned, and the hot guy threw my gun at me. I caught it in one hand without flinching.

Quickly, I turned my attention back to the guard. I grabbed him and swung him in front of me, using him as a shield while gunshots got fired at me. I pointed my gun up the stairs and took out five more guys.

I threw him to the ground, blood coming from everywhere and dripping onto me, running my perfectly good dress and dripping onto my heels.

I quickly ran behind a table, taking cover and looking to see how many men were left after my brief distraction.

They were shooting from everywhere. God, this was supposed to be easy. I listened to how many guns were firing, trying to get an idea of how many men were still here, and from what I could tell there were only eight left.

I checked my gun to see how many bullets I had and counted two, cursing under my breath. I started thinking about how to make the best use of the bullets I had left, but quickly remembered I still had my blades. I stood up and shot two guys from above, throwing the empty gun to the ground. I pulled my blades out and threw them at two more guys from down here. It hit each of their chests, and they fell, blood coming out of their mouths.

Four men down. Four more to go.

The gunshots stopped, and I heard curse words from the men that were shooting.

Dumbasses shouldn't have been shooting so much and missing.

One of the guys lunged at me, but I moved out of the way, blocking every punch before knocking him off his feet.

I stepped on his throat, cutting off his air supply with my stiletto, and he struggled to breathe. He tried to take my heel off with his hands, but my hold was too strong. Another man tried to come after me, but I dove under and caught his wrist, turning his arm as he screamed in pain.

I kicked him in the stomach with my other heel, making him stumble back before I glanced down and saw the guy stop fighting and go still.

Five, six. Two left.

I looked up to see another guy running towards me. I ran towards him too and jumped onto one of the tables, using it as support as I lunged myself around his neck with my legs across his shoulders.

I used my hands and pressed on his pressure points, making him stumble on his feet. My back hit a wall, and he tried to fight me off of him, but he was starting to lose consciousness and struggled to breathe. His eyes rolled back, and he went limp before hitting the ground. I flipped over, grabbed a blade, and threw it at another guy who was running towards me before I even hit the ground, watching as it landed right in his chest.

Seven, eight.

I wiped away the blood on my cheek, looking up at the guys from the bar as they stared back at me. If they were my enemies, they would've killed me already, so I didn't worry about that. I was just pissed that they didn't help me.

Fucking assholes.

I started walking towards the front to leave since I already knew the damn truck was gone. Fuck.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think of another way I could locate him. I knew that I could, but I was just so damn close this time.

He took everything from me, and I wanted him to feel every ounce of pain that I felt when he ripped my life into shreds. It took me this long to finally gain the courage to end his life, and I was going to make sure he hurt.

I felt a tight grip on my wrist, pulling me back. I looked up and glared at the asshole as I pulled back roughly.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked again.

"Fuck off," I fumed and tried to walk away again, but he grabbed me once more. I took a deep, calming breath.

"Grab me one more time and I'll slit your throat."

"I'd love to see you try," he glowered back and I grew more pissed. I tried to punch him, but he grabbed my wrist again. So I tried to knee him, but he grabbed the back of my thigh, his rough touch sending a thousand shocks of light through my body.

I tried to use my other leg to trip him, but he flipped me before I could. I was suddenly falling to the ground and on my back. Everything happened fast and when I landed, I grew dizzy. He had his leg wrapped around mine so I couldn't get up and he had my hands held together.

What the actual fucking hell?

I stared at him, annoyed and confused that he knew this much. I narrowed my gaze, trying to wrap my head around this, but my mind went blank and the only thing I could think to say to him was, "fucking asshole."

I tried to flip us around, but he grabbed my waist and pulled me down. He was strong and easily dominated me, running his hand down my thigh until he reached my strap with my blades and took one out, running it back up my body and between my boobs until he reached my chin and lifted it slightly.

"I'm going to ask you again. Who. the fuck. Are. You?" He asked slowly. His voice radiated power, but I didn't care. I'd dealt with powerful men before.

"Fuck. off."

His eyes darkened, and that look should've scared me, but I didn't give two fucks. "You're someone important if you have the whole Russian mafia behind your back," he said in a surprisingly calm tone. He traced the blade down my neck, making me shiver slightly from the cold touch. One bad move of mine, and he could kill me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Russian struggling to get to his feet. He made very little noise as he tried to grab his gun from beside him. Before he could do anything else, I quickly released my hand and grabbed the blade from the mystery man's hand, keeping my eyes on him as I threw the knife effortlessly across the room straight into the guy's head, making him fall back to the ground.

I nicked him on his bottom lip when I threw the blade, and blood started to peek through. He took his eyes off me and glanced at the guy I just killed before looking back at me, narrowing his eyes.

"Where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked suddenly, but his facial expression showed he didn't want to say that. He probably wanted to strangle me instead for being stubborn and not telling him who I was and where I got my experience from.

I took my thumb and wiped the little blood from his lip. His brown eyes darkened, and he stared at me, his eyes reflecting something close to desire and anger.

What the fuck was I supposed to say? I'm Anabelle Alfonso, daughter of Lorenzo Alfonso, aka the don of the Spanish mafia. I was technically supposed to be dead, but we don't talk about that.

If I told him that, I'd most likely be taking my last breath at any moment. I managed to get my leg out from under him, and I pushed myself up, making him fall off me and stand quickly, but he was just as quick and stood in front of me, making me bump into him. The proximity made his masculine scent fill my nose, and I wanted to drown in the smell.

Suddenly, sirens went off in the distance, catching our attention. Fuck. I could probably get out easily if I got caught, but that would lead to a lot of paperwork that I didn't want to fill out tonight.

"Boss," someone said from behind me. I quickly turned to look at him, processing what he had just said.

He couldn't have been a don. I would've known. Right?

"Boss, huh," I mumbled with a mischievous smile as he glared at the person behind me from over my head.

"We should go," the guy suggested. I looked back at him and noticed as he sent an apologetic facial expression to the man who still wouldn't let me fucking leave.

I walked around him and to the back exit, but he grabbed my wrist again, making me lose my patience. I told him not to fucking touch me.

"I'm not letting you off the hook," he fumed at me.

"What are you going to do, kidnap me?" I asked sarcastically with raised eyebrows. He stared at me with a serious expression, like he was actually considering it.

"You're bleeding," the guy who called him boss muttered to me, pointing to my leg. I looked down to see a cut about half an inch long bleeding out. I didn't even feel it.

"Fucking great," I muttered, yanking my hand away from the guy as I bent down, ripping a thin layer of my dress off. I hated this fucking dress anyway. I took the thin fabric of my dress and tied it around my leg to stop the bleeding.

I was going to need stitches. Hopefully, James would still be at the restaurant.

The sirens got closer, and I didn't even look twice at the guys. I instantly rushed out the back door and made a run for my car. I heard the back door open again and close shut, but before I could see anyone or anyone could see me, I turned the corner.

Once I got in my car, I started to feel more pain in my leg. If he hadn't opened his mouth about me bleeding, it probably wouldn't even be hurting right now. I got in the car and headed to my restaurant.

I couldn't go walking into my apartment lobby looking like this.

I opened the doors to my restaurant, which had closed by now. James was at the register counting money, but once he saw me, he dropped everything and rushed towards me as I sat in one of the chairs, dripping blood on my marble floors.

"What the hell happened, Anabelle?" he said worriedly and grabbed a chair.

"I'm fine," I muttered as I took my dress fabric off, revealing my cut. It looked pretty deep, but I would live.

James sat in front of me and took my leg into his lap. As my luck would have it, Matt and Dante walked through the kitchen doors, glancing at me, raising their eyebrows in worry, and rushing to me too. Before they could say anything, I muttered at them to go away so I could calm down, but James told them to get the first aid kit.

"What happened?" Dante asked and sat at the table with us.

I took a deep breath, feeling irritated that my night had turned to shit. I sighed, running my hand through my hair. Despite my anger, my mind was clouded with the thought of the man that made me want to kill him. I would get information about him soon enough.

"Didn't it go well?" Matt asked while handing the first-aid kit to James. I didn't answer, I just took the kit from James's hands and scooted away from him.

"Anabelle, just let me help you," James said in an irritated tone.

"I'm fine; just leave me," I glowered at him. I took the rubbing alcohol, poured some onto a cotton pad, and gently started to clean my wound. I could feel them staring at me, so I looked up, glaring at all of them. My stare made James look away, and eventually, he got up and walked away along with Matt and Dante. I needed to calm down before I talked to them.

I finished cleaning my wound and grabbed the needle and thread to stitch it up.

I've known Dante and Matt just as long as James.

They were also my best friends, just more fucking annoying, but I did care about them just as much.

They were there for me, and I appreciated that at the time. I knew I could be a bitch to them a lot-well, most of the time-but they still dealt with my shit, and I dealt with theirs even though I wanted to strangle them sometimes.

Well, I threw a blade into Dante's arm, but he was fine and alive, which is all that mattered, right? Besides, it was his fault for making me mad, and I wasn't completely sober that night. It was all on him.

Once I was done stitching my leg, I headed to change out of my bloodied dress and into sweatpants and a hoodie. I threw my dress into the garbage and walked out of the bathroom while pulling my hair up in a bun, my curls starting to seep through the straight hair.

Dante, Matt, and James were sitting at a table with computers, and they saw that my blood was already cleaned up.

"We found another location we think could help," James told me as I approached them. I took the computer into my hands while taking a seat, trying not to let my anger make me pissed at them. I knew they were just trying to help me, but sometimes I couldn't help but feel anger towards them. Towards everything and everyone.

"How did they know it was you?" Dante asked me with a slight hesitation.

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter," I said while looking at the locations that James spotted and seeing if any of the trucks were going to align with them.

"We could've gone with you," Matt said. They seemed to relax a little after they saw that I had calmed down. I didn't answer him. They always told me shit about them coming with me, even though I didn't need their help.

"Did you meet anybody?" Matt asked casually, like he could smell the hot guy all over me. I could still smell the guy's addictive scent on me and feel his rough hands on my wrists. I still felt his gorgeous brown eyes scanning my body.

"No." I hesitated, answering a little too late, and they noticed it.

"Oh, so Anabelle meets a guy?" Dante asked playfully.

"Or a girl, we wouldn't judge you," he quickly added, and I shook my head.

"No, now please focus," I mumbled, and I saw on the computer that a new club was scheduled to open in about a week and was located about thirty minutes away. That is probably where their shipments were getting loaded. It was more convenient since no one would expect drugs and weapons to be loaded and transported from a club.

It was smart enough to be able to hide themselves from the feds, but not from other mafias. It was actually pretty dumb of them in that sense, but it did make things easier for me, and this time, I'd be more prepared. I just didn't expect him to have that many men there. It would be risky to have that many men, and it was. I mean, they all got killed.

The Russians should know better; now they're short about twenty men.

"Who was it?" Dante asked, making me look up, only to find them all staring at me with serious looks on their faces.

"Oh, come on, Anabelle, you can tell us," James said, crossing his arms while leaning back and waiting for an answer.

"None of you ever tell me about the girls you occasionally go out with or meet," I mentioned, causing them to look at me like I was crazy.

It was true, though. They never told me about the girls they went out with, not that anything ever lasted longer than a month anyway, but it would be nice to know who my best friends were getting involved with.

But then again, maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea.

"Yeah, maybe it's better you guys don't," I muttered and looked back at the computer.

"Is that why you were all distracted? Because a handsome man swept you off your feet?" Dante asked almost sarcastically and playfully.

He did so much more than that; he literally took over my entire mind the whole time I was there.

"No, now please stop talking," I asked nicely. Or, I tried too, but it still came out bitchy.

"I'm pretty sure it's this club right here," I said, motioning to the computer in an attempt to change the subject for good. They focused their attention on the screen, probably starting to listen in the hopes that I'd invite them to come with me this time.

"It opens up in a week. I think that's where the trucks will be loaded and transported, probably to the Russians. It might not get us to him, but it will get us close enough to his upper men."

"Does this mean we get to come?" James asked me, and I thought about it for a minute.

I really don't need them, and I think it's better if I travelled alone just so I wouldn't be worrying about where they were or if they needed help. Besides, I'd probably be disguising myself as a waitress anyway. I'd be changing my name, and style, using a wig, and wearing tonnes of fucking makeup, so I would be unrecognizable which would make things easier for me.

"Nope, I think I'll be fine alone," I said while shutting the computer and getting up to head out.

"Oh, come on, let us have some action," Matt whined.

"No."

"We'll help you get closer to him, and we swear we won't fuck shit up," Dante declared in a baby voice, trying to convince me.

"Exactly, and it's a better backup for you," James chimed in, and I grew more fucking irritated at them. I walked away, heading for the doors, but before I walked out, I turned back around.

"I don't need your help, okay? He's going to have to come out eventually; he can't hide from me forever." With that, I pushed the door open with my back as the guys gave me tight smiles and a shake of their heads in disapproval, but they didn't say anything else.

It was true; he couldn't hide from me forever. He'd eventually have to come out and face what he created. I wasn't going to go down without a fight. I was deadly, and he knew that.

Killing him was going to be the easy part, but getting to him was a game.