His Mafia Princess

By: April Zyon

Chapter One



She first met him when she was eight and he was twenty, but it was more than twelve years later when she saw him again. Gregorio. This time, his eyes clashed with hers, and she saw the spark of attraction in them. She knew how she looked. She had more than one person look at her like Gregorio did now. However, none of them affected her the way his singular look did.

When he turned to walk past her, once more his gaze straight ahead, she turned and looked at him. The man walked with confidence, a swagger that couldn’t be feigned. She still couldn’t understand why someone so dangerous worked for her sweet father, who was in imports and exports.

She shrugged and went on to the car, because she had less than half an hour to get to the country club and still had to stop for her Starbucks fix. She was starving for coffee, something her father recently banned from the house because he could no longer drink it due to his heart.

An hour later, Alessandra was standing on the golf course with her friends and laughing at a shot Francesca had just taken. She loved being on the links. A smile turned up her lips as she looked up at the bright blue skies and inhaled the scents of the freshly cut grass of the course. She longed to take off her shoes and sink her feet into the too soft grass, but that was frowned upon as she learned two years earlier. Shaking her head at her too wistful thoughts, she walked up to the tee green and put her ball down. “Now, Frankie, I know your father is paying Carl Durand to give you lessons, so why was that drive so lousy?”

Les loved her friends and enjoyed this time with them. It made her happy to get away from the house at least for a few hours a day. To get away from the heavy testosterone and ass-kissing that some of the lower level men in her father’s organization did on a daily basis.

“Well, Les, since you’re asking,” Frankie said dramatically, “Carl is giving me lessons, but they certainly aren’t golf lessons.”

Alessandra laughed and then took her shot. Her ball landed in the forest, but she didn’t mind. It was good for her to get out and stretch her legs. Walking in the woods was something she often did because she really did suck at golf. She looked toward where her guards were, guards her father insisted upon after someone mugged her a week earlier … and of course the incident when she was a child. She noticed the security around the house had been increased as well, but that was part of her being who she was. She had a feeling her father was about to make a huge announcement; she would find out when his employees did.

Finding her ball, she moved so that she could hopefully get it out of the rough and onto the fairway once more. Once it was back on the fairway, she stepped out of the way to let the others shoot their balls as well.

The laughing friends played their way through the front nine and then went inside so they could grab lunch. As she walked past her guards, she stopped. “Go in and have lunch. I’m sure nothing will happen in the clubhouse. Really, we will be all right.”

“Are you certain?” Both men looked at each other, each of them showing a trace of fear, which had Les frowning.

“Yes, I’m sure. There’ll be close to fifty people inside at this time of day. I’ll be okay. If it makes you feel better, you can have lunch in the clubhouse as well.”

“Yes, ma’am, that would make us feel better.” She saw the instant relief from both men.

“Come on, I’ll talk to the maître de so you can have lunch. I know you both likely have memberships thanks to daddy, but I would feel better knowing you were both having lunch too.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Arturo Cavazos, one of her guards, said with a bow to her.

****

An hour later, Les was practically dancing in her seat. She had drunk two glasses of wine and far more glasses of water than she should have. “Excuse me, ladies,” she said and rose. She looked to her guards and smiled. They wouldn’t even notice her gone. She would only be three minutes in the bathroom.

She stepped out of the dining room and into the lady’s room. Once she was done with her business, she walked out. She was stopped by a waiter and frowned when he put his hand on her. She felt it then, a small prick to her arm where his fingers touched her.