The Mafia King's Supreme Heiress

Chapter 2

(Ansaldo’s POV)

A sprawling bedroom in my Sicilian mansion. The bedroom is faintly lighted, with a single bedside lamp spreading a gentle golden glow across the dark silk bedding. The night outside is strangely silent, yet there is no rest in my head.

I tried to sleep and let today's killing spree become a part of the past. One arm resting behind my head, my shirt undone at the collar and the faint aroma of whisky remaining on my breath. My body is tired, yet sleep refuses to claim me. My mind, a battleground for memories, begins its nighttime torment. It's full of them.

Flashback

Soft laughing. A woman's touch. The warmth of love is something he barely remembers anymore. She once uttered his name in prayer and brushed her fingers over his wounds, as if she could heal them.

Then, blood on white sheets. A lifeless body. His name appeared on her lips for the last time. Ansaldo's chest tightens. He never speaks about her. Never let himself dwell on it. However, not all wounds heal.

The memory vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by another.

A younger Ansaldo stands in a dimly lit alleyway, his breath ragged, his hands trembling not with fear, but with the rush of power. At his feet, a man gasps for air, blood bubbling from his lips. The knife in Ansaldo’s hand drips red, the weight of it sinking into his palm like a brand. A swift movement, a final gurgled breath, and silence.

His first kill. His first step into the underworld.

Flashback Ends

My eyes snap open. My breathing is steady, controlled, but my fingers are clenched into the sheets. My body remembers the nightmares even if I pretend they don’t exist. I turn onto my side, reaching for the nightstand where a half-finished glass of whiskey waits. I downs it in one slow sip, letting the burn remind me that I am alive.

After a few minutes, I laid back down and exhaled slowly but sleep did not come easily. It never does.

Next day, everyone is present in the war room. The tall wood table occupies the centre of the dimly lit room, its polished surface reflecting the light from the golden chandelier overhead. Around it, my troops sit in tight silence, seasoned murderers, strategists, and underworld elites, all waiting for my orders.

I enter silently, my mere presence commanding attention. Dressed in a clean black suit, my every action is measured and controlled. I approach the head of the table and take a seat, my fingers steepling as I survey my men. The room holds its breath.

"The Zhao Syndicate has been testing boundaries," I begin, my voice smooth but edged with steel.

"They think that because they control Asia, they can dictate who steps into their world” I lean forward slightly, my gaze locking onto each man in turn.

"They’re wrong”.

“Boss, the Zhao family is a different breed. They’re not like the Cartels or the Russians. They don’t play by our rules" One of my men clears his throat. I smirked.

"Then we’ll teach them new ones” A low murmur ripples through the table. Some of my men exchange cautious glances, but no one dares to challenge me outright.

“What’s the move?" Another one asks. I take my time, swirling the whiskey in my glass before answering.

"We don’t ask for permission. We take" I place the glass down with a soft clink.

"We’re expanding into Hong Kong…She either submits, or she bleeds" Silence follows. Then, a slow, knowing grin spreads across Matteo’s face.

"You want to provoke her” I lean back, amusement flickering in my cold gray eyes.

"No, Matteo. I want to own her empire" A sharp inhale from one of the men. Another smirk from Matteo. The room shifts, hesitation turning into ruthless anticipation.

"And if Selene Zhao fights back?" Someone asks. My smirk fades, replaced by something darker.

"Then we burn her world to the ground".

With that, I stand, signaling the end of the meeting. My men rise in unison, their orders clear. The West is coming for the East.

And Adrian Ansaldo never loses.

Right now, I am in my room. The aroma of costly cologne lingers in the air as I stand in front of the full-length mirror, buttoning the cuffs of my black dress shirt. My movements are precise and controlled, just like everything I do. I have only a few hours till my departure to Asia, and I cannot afford any delays.

Then, the door flies open. I do not flinch, but my jaw tightens as I turn to face her…Valeria Moretti. Daughter of one of my oldest pals, heiress to a powerful Italian syndicate, and a woman who refuses to accept one basic truth, Adrian Ansaldo does not belong to her.

She stands in the doorway, an arrogant sneer curling her red-painted lips, and her fitting black dress embracing her shape as if she were intended to seduce me. But my expression stays chilly and disinterested.

"You should knock" My voice sounded like steel wrapped in silk. Valeria pouts, stepping inside as if she owns the space.

"Oh, come on, Ansaldo. Since when do I need permission?" She saunters toward me, her sharp heels clicking against the floor, eyes flicking over my form like she’s undressing me in her mind.

"Since the day I stopped tolerating your presence" I replied flatly, returning my attention to my cufflinks, dismissing her like an irrelevant nuisance. Valeria chuckles, unfazed.

"You always act so cold, but I know you, Ansaldo. You need a woman like me by your side. Not some fragile girl who can’t handle your world".

I finally looked at her, and for a second, there’s something in my eyes, rage. I step closer, my presence towering over hers, suffocating, dominant.

"You know nothing about me, Valeria," I murmured, my voice dangerously low.

"And I don’t need a woman at my side. Least of all, you" The words are a slap, but Valeria recovers quickly, forcing a sultry smile.

"You say that now, but you’ll come around. Who else can handle a man like you?" She leans in, brushing her fingers over the collar of my shirt. In a flash, I grabbed her wrist, my grip like iron.

"Touch me again, and you’ll regret it" Her breath caught, her eyes enlarging slightly not in fear, but in excitement. The thrill of danger. Every naive lady makes the same mistake around me but I feel nothing.

"Get out!" Valeria lingers for a moment, eyes dark with frustration. But she knows better than to push me further. With a dramatic toss of her hair, she strides toward the door.

"You’ll miss me when I’m gone, Ansaldo" She purrs, her last attempt at control. I don't even turn around.

"I won’t” The door slams shut behind her, and I carefully exhale while rolling up my sleeves.

I have serious business to tackle...And it starts in Asia.