SHE IS THE MAFIA (BOOK#2)

Chapter 5

I can't stop thinking about yesterday's incident.
The panic attack.

When I started going to therapy years ago, I began to have panic attacks as I relived the horrific events of my life. It was bad. uncontrollably bad, I mean.

If there is anything I dislike, it's not being in control. And to lose control of my own feelings and thoughts scared the living shit out of me. I was forgetting how to breathe and how to differentiate the past from the present in some of the therapy sessions. I was on anxiety medications for a while before things started getting better. I hated relying on it though because it made me feel weak as if I couldn't calm myself down on my own.

To think it happened again for the first in about three years is freaking me out. I have been fine. I've been well since I stopped therapy. I have been calm and living quietly. I have accepted that I am not a perfect piece of art. Too many colors and mistakes.

I have convinced myself to exist in my mind, solely in my mind. I used to force my mark onto this world, make myself known for miles. Now, I try to make myself miniature, small, almost nothing. I try to be different colors of the spectrum, though I am nothing but black. My therapist said, maybe you are trying so hard to be this villain when you are really the heroine. I remember laughing at her. It seems everyone sees a better side of me that my reflection seems to keep hidden. But I guess it's okay to play a different role in this play we call life.

"Tempest," I look up from where I am sitting at a man with thick glasses, "My apologies, I meant Miss Moore,"

I shake my head, "It's alright. You are?"

He extends his hands, "I was your grandfather's consigliere. Rowland,"

"Nice to meet you," I give him half a smile, as he guides me to the main office where the meeting will be held.

I am late.
I am fashionably late, on purpose. Grand entrances are my thing.

We stop in front of a door, with a golden plaque that says, "Lawyer Rowland Howard Office". The will is a legal matter, a matter that is taken care of in a legal building.

I open the door to the vast office space, where the estranged family members and business partners sit, whispering and checking their watches. All heads turn towards me, many of whom weren't at the funeral shocked to see my return. I make my way to the head of the table, my heels clicking against the office floor. I lower myself down into my seat, arms draped on the armrests.
I glare down the table at the people who stare back at me.
"Aren't you all glad to see me?" I smile wickedly.

Some nod, some just turn away.
Amanda and Kindle sit at the left and right sides of me.

Rowland clears his throat, "Now that we all are here, we can begin discussing the Will of the late Ernest Moore," he takes out a folder and places it in front of me. "As we know, or should know, Miss Moore... Miss Tempest Moore, is the heiress of the Moore Foundation," He refers to the mafia as Foundation for the sake of confidentiality... under a legal building. He points to the first paragraph, "To begin, there are five casinos owned by the Moore family, each worth approximately 15 million pounds. It is stated that two belong to Amanda Moore Berlin, two to Kindle Moore Kings, and one to Tempest Moore,"

Amanda snickers and winks at Kindle.
I am not upset, because what would I even do with a Casino. The money would help build something more useful, like a new hospital or orphanage.

"The contracts for ownership will be given at the end. Next, the vehicles under Ernest Moore's name, which include all the cars parked inside the Moore Mansion belong to... Tempest Moore," he eyes Amanda and Kindle, who look at him... and back at me.