Angel's Mafia (gxg) ✓

XLIV | My Crown

ABOVE THE DANCE FLOOR, I SIT.

I am in a throne. There is a crown on my head.

I wear a dress made of liquid night; long, jet-black bracelets curl around my wrists like vines. I feel like every bit of the queen the Reaper told me I was.

I am the granddaughter of the most feared Mafia boss in the city.

And I am powerful.

As I watch women clad in scraps of satin swing around poles, with men tossing them euros freely, the Reapers come up to me.

I use the charm I was instructed to. My eyes, shimmering with smoky powder, are dark and husky as I stare up at them. "Hello, Nonno."

His smile widens as he holds out a hand to me. I uncross my legs, my dress rippling, and reach for him.

"You remind me of your nonna," he says wistfully, as we stare out at the colossal dance floor. This club is one he owns, and it is monstrous―enormous. No wonder he has earned their respect, this is just one of many clubs that belong to his name. "She was so elegant, a true queen. As are you."

Warmth trickles through me. It has been a week since I was taken, and I feel less like the scared little girl from Los Angeles and more like a warrior. Bloodthirsty, ambitious.

As each day goes by, it is easier to forget Angel.

Easier to lose myself in this―this feeling of worship, of strength.

"What was Nonna like?" I ask the Reaper.

His blue eyes soften as he recalls some lost memory. "She died twenty years ago―she was in the crossfire of a long-time battle between us and the Falcones."

The Falcones.

I harden. "They killed my grandmother and my father . . . I need to ask. Are we―are they―"

"Enemies," he says sadly.

My heart sinks down. Does this mean Angel and I were some kind of twisted Romeo and Juliet?

"I didn't want to tell you, I know you were attached to the Falcone girl, but as the heir to our name . . ." He takes a breath. The jewels on his fingers glint under the flashing lights. "I thought you needed to know."

"Thank you," I say, swallowing down a lump. What does it matter anymore? If Angel had ever even cared for me, she would have come here to rescue me. "I want to―I need to leave."

The Reaper nods. "I understand. You need time. But . . . before you go, I need you to make a decision."

A feeling like dread slithers in my stomach.

"The Falcone girl and her little friends are getting on an airplane to fly off as we speak," he says. "I have just a question. They may return, they may not, but I can have word that you are dead leak around."

Why? is the first thought that springs to mind. But then I realize that they're getting on airplane. They're leaving me behind. It must be to get the Jewels, I think. They used me, and now I'm finally gone, so they're free to have the money.

Well, they can have the stupid Jewels. "Yes," I say coldly. I don't even recognize my own voice. "Tell them I'm dead."

I hope the guilt devours Angel. Even though it's been a week, the feeling of betrayal hits me all over again and I am reeling. I want to cry right here, but this is the Reaper's club. No weakness. No emotion.

I am strong. I am powerful.

I am the heir to the Mafia.

And I don't need to go chasing after anyone.

Especially her.

>>>

Do you guys see what the Reaper is doing? Do you think Angel is really leaving?

From the moon and back,
Sarai