In Holy Mafiamony

Chapter One

Alaiyah:
Eighteen. The number of years one must obey their parent's commands.
Eighteen. The number that symbolizes the beginning of personal freedom.
Eighteen. The number that represented the beginning of my end... but let's start from the beginning.

See, people call me the female Jesus, but who am I really? Well, that's rather simple; I'm Alaiyah Francesca DeConte. Eldest child to one of the most powerful, most feared Italian Mob Dons in America, Francesco Mateo DeConte. And who am I to my father? Well,to him, I'm his first unconditionally loved failure.

You see, I was supposed to be born a boy— the someone who could continue his legacy, the heir to his throne. Instead; for the first time in my paternal family's bloodline, that title will most likely be given to the second born, better known as my younger (but taller) brother, Arturo Farrell DeConte. And what does that mean for me, you ask? That means I'm the ammunition in a merger—the someone who will bind two families together. The someone who will link the Don of New York with the heir of Chicago. And when did this all happen? That's also simple. It all happened this morning. December twenty-fifth. My eighteenth birthday.

-

"Alaiyah... Alaiyah... ALAIYAH! Wake up! It's Christmas!" My little sister, Elliette yelled, shaking me awake.

Slowly waking up, I squinted my eyes against the light of the bright morning sun as I searched for my alarm clock.

"Ellie, it's eight a.m. It's my birthday. I'm allowed to sleep in!" I groaned, throwing a pillow at her head.

"Missed me!" She cheered, sticking her tongue out in triumph.

"Now, you see! If you were up by now, you wouldn't have missed me!" She joked, plopping down on the edge of my bed.

"Plus, why sleep in when there are presents downstairs calling our names?!" Ellie dramatically asked, sweeping her left hand across her forehead as she fell back onto me.

"God, Ellie! You're worse than a fucking five-year-old! Go eat breakfast or something!" I shouted as I tried kicking her through my blanket.

"Kamile, Royce, Arturo, and I have already eaten. You're literally the only one left sleeping in this house. Even Mom and dad are awake. Get up!" Ellie yelled, shaking me again before heading for the door.

Now, if that wasn't obvious enough, I'm the eldest of five. There's me, then Arturo, then the twins—Kamile and Elliette, and lastly, there's Royce. We're all almost a year apart, except for Arturo and the twins, they are all seventeen, but that's cause they are only eleven months apart. Don't ask, it's complicated.

Just as Ellie was about to leave my room, she stopped in her tracks. "By the way... Happy Birthday!" Elliette exclaimed as she jumped up and down, clapping her hands together with a cheerful smile plastered on her face.

"Thanks... Now leave! I need to get dressed." I groaned, simultaneously pointing to the door.

Still half asleep, I tumbled rather elegantly out of bed wearing nothing but a sports bra, some black shorts. I slide my feet into fuzzy llama slippers and walked over to my window.

As I looked out, I saw the world around me nicely hidden under a fresh layer of white snow, glistening against the rays of the winter sun. Instantly, a wave of tranquility spread throughout my body as the snow somehow made my world slow down. I allowed myself to stand there for a while, admiring the beauty of the view, but eventually, I came to the rash conclusion that I needed to go get dressed.

-

Once ready, I pulled my phone off the charger, tucking in snuggly into my left, back pocket and headed downstairs to the kitchen. As I walked in, I looked through the opening to the dining room and saw my mom sitting, reading her newspaper as she enjoying her morning tea.