Legal Task Force Briefing - 10:47 AM, Downtown Boston
The task force headquarters was sterile, quiet - like the people inside had never seen real blood. Isabella walked in wearing black wide-leg trousers, a collared white shirt, and a blazer that could cut steel. Hair up. Face unreadable.
Sheriff Daniels was waiting at the front of the glass briefing room.
Sheriff:
"Everyone, this is Miss Hughes. She's your legal advisor, and she outranks all of you in IQ, experience, and probably trigger discipline. So don't waste her time."
She stepped forward.
Isabella:
"I'm not here to be liked. I'm here to clean up what the rest of you legally can't explain. You bring me something dirty, I'll make it disappear on paper. But don't ever ask me who I used to be."
Silence.
She sat down at the head of the table. The first case was a mess - overlapping jurisdictions, money laundering through a fake medical NGO.
While the others bickered, she flipped open her tablet and solved it in twelve keystrokes.
Sheriff (reading):
"Wait... this contract redirection... it's airtight."
Isabella (cold):
"Of course it is. You asked for results. Don't ask me for magic again unless you're ready to pay for it."
As the room fell quiet, someone muttered under their breath:
"Where did she even learn this stuff?"
She didn't answer.
---
The Academy, 6 Years Ago
Blood on the concrete. Rain pouring.
A 12-year-old Isabella stood barefoot in the center of a training yard. Cuts on her arms. One hand is swollen. Her jaw was clenched.
Behind her, two boys twice her size were groaning on the ground.
A voice echoed from the speaker overhead:
Instructor:
"Ferrari. Again."
She didn't flinch. She turned. The next opponent ran at her. She side-stepped, twisted his arm, dislocated his shoulder, then kicked him in the ribs - hard.
He collapsed.
Another voice whispered behind the glass:
"She doesn't feel anything."
Another:
"Good. That's what we're building."
---
Later That Night - Academy Dorm
She sat alone, staring at her bruised hands.
A note was slid under her door. A crumpled piece of paper in rough handwriting:
> "When you bleed, don't cry. Become the knife."
She never knew who sent it.
But she followed it for life.
---
Isabella's Car, Leaving Task Force HQ
She sat behind the wheel of her Ferrari, hands on the steering wheel, music low - The Weeknd, soft background noise.
She whispered to herself:
Isabella:
"They want a legal advisor. But they'll get the blade."
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0jgwHOgr5cj1GU2Spdgsx2?si=4R1L-eKiSluwKXSXxU1Uag&pt=6f6a59cb3c014e39e5401296e6251684
YOU ARE READING
MAFIA QUEEN
Short StoryAfter the 3 sentries she is born, the only girl in the family. But they are not the ordinary people they are famous Italian Mafia. THE FERRARI FAMILY But they lost her because of the work they are in and because of their reputation. ************...
