Never Meant to Be (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

[2] The Mafia Game of Life

[Contessa]

"Ah, here she is. Tessa, I would like you to meet Axton Walker of the American Mafia. We have partnered with him many times before," Papà beamed as I approached them.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I greet, immediately easing into a polite smile. I narrowed my eyes when he eyed me disdainfully.

"Pleasure indeed," he sneered. In my periphery, I could see Papà's clenched fists. Clearly, he noticed this as well.

"Isn't it rather bold of you to bring your...mistress–" he gestured at me, "to such an important event?" I rolled my eyes at his snarky comment. Just shut up already. However, he wasn't quite done yet.

"What would your wife say, if she knew? I've heard that you have a daughter as well. What would she say, if she knew that her father-" I didn't let him finish, as I moved forward and swung my arms with enough force to wound him.

Before he could process any of it, he was already on the floor, blood trickling down his nose.

"Wh-what?!" He spluttered, holding his face gingerly in his hands. By now, everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at us, some in disbelief, others in bored expressions.

I smiled innocently at him. "She would say that you should get some therapy, since you can't even discern a mistress from a daughter."

Batting my eyelashes, I resumed my place beside Papà. He was side-eyeing me, a ghost of a smile on his face, as he fought the urge to grin at me.

I smirked as Walker struggled to stand up, dried and fresh blood mingling on his face. His nose still continued to bleed, and it appeared to be crooked.

"Consider our deal done, Rochetti," he snapped, stomping away angrily.

"Don't worry, we won't regret it," I muttered under my breath, as I checked my manicured nails. Thankfully, they seemed to be in perfect shape.

Papà chuckled lowly as he turned around to face me fully, amusement in his features. "What am I going to do with you? You always mess up at the right time, to the right people, but at the wrong place."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," I flashed a grin.

"It is one," he flashed one right back. "I was starting get tired of Walker, actually. He always orders my men around, even when I'm right there."

I pursed my lips. "Well then, thanks to me, you no longer have to endure him."

Papà beamed. "Of course, how could I forget? Anyways, enough with this talk. Why don't you go make a few new friends?" He asked, a twinkle in his eye.

I nodded reluctantly. I wasn't the best at socializing, but I knew it was the best way that I could gain allies for our mafia.

I waved goodbye to Papà when someone approached us, giving us both respectful nods. Riccardo. One of my father's most trusted men. I knew he was going to update Papà on the stock trends in the market, so I left them since Papà could take care of this without my help.

I made my way towards a group of five people, all of whom were men. When I neared them, I caught snippets of their conversation. They were speaking Irish. Ah. This was the perfect time to apologize to them for the failed trade, and perhaps pin the blame on the Sicilian Mafias.

"Hello," I greet politely. "I am Contessa Rochetti of the Italian Mafia." Although I knew how to speak Irish, I wasn't exactly fluent, and the last thing I wanted was for me to embarrass in front of them.

I sneaked a glance at them. They had ceased their conversations immediately upon my arrival, and were looking at me–some with interested expressions, others with polite smiles. After my introduction, however, most of their friendly faces have turned hostile.