The Blood Crown Of The Mafia

They say the crown is heavy.
They never warned her it would be soaked in blood.
They never mentioned it would be her who would soak it.

The city doesn't know her name, not yet.
But in smoky back rooms and under dim lights, the mafia knows, and whispers are starting to spread. Whispers of a woman who walks into a den of wolves and leaves with them begging, like it was no big deal. Whispers of a boss who doesn't take no for an answer.

She wasn't born into this world. She bled her way in. And she'll burn down anyone who thinks she doesn't belong here. Deals are made over glasses of whiskey and the steady click of a loaded gun. Friends and enemies are separated by the thinnest of lines, and every hand she shakes could just as easily hold a blade.

Every choice has its price.
Every alliance comes with a debt.
And every man and woman who underestimates her will find out, that she is not here to survive.

She is here to rule.
And this city? It will remember her name.