Light Grasso,
A middle Son.
An heir to the Grasso business and industry.
A head counselor of Italian Mafia businesses.
A narcissist.
Lilith Berenguer,
A princess of Italy.
A fiery woman.
A walking death.
A mastermind.
When Lilith faces the...
[Author's Note: I restarted the book and this is the first chapter. The story continues from the current timeline and not the past. Thank you for understanding!]
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Women were happy being women until they're told that they are women.
.
Don't shout, you're a woman.
Don't complain, you're a woman.
Don't argue, you're a woman.
Don't dream, you're a woman.
Don't breathe, you're a woman.
Don't exist for fuck's sake, you're a woman.
.
Men have these false concepts of power that is based on the physical capability of one's body structure. Men build houses, men mines, men cut the mountains and men rides the oceans.
True, men are built divine.
But, that doesn't make a woman any lesser or secondary. It's sad that women had to bring the concept of feminism in the first place in order to have what they universally deserve.
What women deserve?
To think. To talk. To opine. To work. To earn. To dream. To choose. To live. And to say no.
.
Was or is that too hard to understand for the world?
I'm not curious, just disappointed.
.
"May I come in, my lady?" A voice and my eyes fall open. Dozing off in the middle of the day has became my habit.
"What is it now, Marco?" The frustration climbed my head because for the past half an hour, people have been penetrating my bloody privacy! "It's better be important or you're losing your job."
I'm surrounded by Royal attendants all the time for I happen to be the princess of this fucking country. Not by choice.
"Mr. Marcello Turcelli has arrived at the office chamber." Marco bent his head down, crossing his hands behind his back. Clean uniform, neat hair and mannerly tone. He has been my personal attendant for past five years and I have to say, he has impressive patience because he works for me.
"And why the hell is he here?" I looked at the vintage clock standing by the stone wall and it says twelve.
"Your meeting with him is scheduled on 12.30 pm." Marco said.
"He's early." I sighed. "Too desperate to get into my pants or send me in jail." I placed the diary I was holding near my chest on the table. "What do you think is the reason of his desperation, Marco?"
