Reckless Games

Her All I ever wanted was to become a surgeon. But life had other plans, thrusting me into a war zone-quite literally. Instead of being saved by a prince charming, I ended up saving a certain silver-eyed devil. What I didn't anticipate was getting so entangled in his life that I forgot my own. Every action carries its own price. And now it was time for me to settle mine. Him I never knew I needed saving until I met her. Who would've thought even a devil like me would need a guardian angel? But there she was, barreling into my life with a force that turned my world upside down. Now, there is no way in hell that I can let her go. In a world where trust is a deadly gamble, Angela's decision to play the game with the Don of the Sicilian Mafia, Lorenzo Martinez, comes with dire consequences. When their worlds collide; passions ignite, and danger lurks around every corner. With every heartbeat, every bullet, and every secret, the stakes rise higher. The question is: who will win?

I stood amidst the crowd, my eyes fixed on the casket as it descended into the waiting earth. The atmosphere was heavy with sorrow, but I remained cold. My exterior was a facade of stoicism. Inside, my emotions lay dormant, buried beneath layers of ice. In the world of the mafia, showing vulnerability was akin to signing one's own death warrant.

My father-the former Capo of the Sicilian Mafia-now lay at rest. I could not afford to mourn. To do so would be to expose a chink in my armor-an invitation for rivals to strike. Not like I felt the need to anyway. Growing up in the mafia, emotional detachment becomes ingrained in our very essence. It flows through our veins like an unyielding current, shaping our every thought and action.

Although Sicily was my hometown, my roots ran deep throughout Italy. My name and reputation were well-known, and people were wise enough to turn and walk the other way when they saw me coming. It was safe to say that my mafia held dominance over both Sicily and Italy, realms that were not so different from one another.

I watched as the final clods of earth covered the casket, sealing my father's fate. In the unforgiving landscape of our reality, tears were the only luxury I gave up on at the age of twelve. Weakness was not an option.

My mind drifted to my father's final words: 'In the harsh reality of our world, to reveal weakness is to court one's demise.'

He had expected me to follow in his footsteps and carry on his legacy. And so I did, for I was his only son.

"Lorenzo," I turned to see Declan-the leader of the Irish Mafia-standing a few steps away from me. "I'm sorry for your loss. Emir and Leonardo couldn't make it. However, they asked me to forward their condolences as well." I gave him a single nod. Emir was the head of the Turkish Mafia, while Leonardo was leading the Spanish Mafia.