Bound to Mafia Princess

Alessia The moment I step into my father’s office, the air shifts. It always does. The space smells of leather and cigar smoke, a mix of authority and indulgence. The heavy mahogany desk sits between us like a fortress, but even that doesn’t feel like enough to keep his overbearing presence at bay. His back is to me, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the estate. The New York skyline glimmers in the distance, a city of endless possibilities—and my gilded cage. “You’re late,” he says, not bothering to turn around. I drop into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, letting my heels rest on the edge of it. “Traffic was brutal.” His sigh is long and low, the kind that usually precedes one of his speeches. “You were downtown. At Scarlett’s.” Shit. How does he know? I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I needed coffee" His hand slams against the mahogany desk, the crack of it echoing in the silence. I flinch—barely—but it’s enough for his lips to twist into a grim smile. “Coffee? You think this is a game?” he growls, his voice low and lethal. “You’ve been reckless, Alessia. Driving into the city alone, ignoring my rules, sneaking off to God-knows-where with God-knows-who. You’re putting a target on your back, and I won’t allow it.” Caught. Not that it matters—I’d never admit it. “Relax, Father. I’m alive, aren’t I?” “That’s not the point, Alessia.” His voice cuts like a whip, sharp and merciless. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you? How many enemies would kill to use you against me?” I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. Nobody cares about me. They’re too busy kissing your ass to notice.” Wrong thing to say. His expression darkens, and the storm I’ve been baiting finally breaks. “You think this is a joke?” His fist slams against the desk, making me jump despite myself. “You’re reckless, Alessia. Careless. You think you’re untouchable, but you’re wrong. You’re a liability. The truth of it settles like a weight in my chest. He doesn’t care about me. Not really. I’m not Alessia, his daughter, his flesh and blood. I’m just another piece on his chessboard, a pawn to be moved and sacrificed as he sees fit. But pawns can become queens if they play their cards right. I rise to my feet, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “I’m not some helpless little girl. I don’t need your protection. And I certainly don’t need some stranger following me around, breathing down my neck.” His expression doesn’t change. If anything, he looks bored, like he’s already predicted every word out of my mouth. “This isn’t up for debate, Alessia.” Of course it’s not. It never is.You just want your everyday life to be in control including me. When the door to the office opens, I’m still fuming. I don’t even bother to look at whoever’s walking in. I think it was probably one of Father’s lackeys here to grovel or deliver bad news. But the air shifts again, this time in a way that makes my skin prickle. Whoever it is, they’re not just anyone. “Perfect timing,” Father says, his tone infuriatingly smug. “Alessia, meet Jay Carter. Your new bodyguard.” My gaze snaps up, and I feel the ground beneath me shift. He’s standing in the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence commanding in a way that makes it impossible to look away. His dark eyes lock on mine, unreadable but sharp, like they’re already cataloging my every move. His jaw is sharp enough to cut glass, and the curve of his mouth is too smug for my liking. He’s… annoyingly attractive. “Princess,” he says, his voice low and smooth, like he knows exactly how much the nickname will irritate me. I bristle at the word, my spine straightening as I glare up at him. “Don’t call me that.” His lips curve into a smirk, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to wipe it off his face. “She’s all yours,” Father says, waving a dismissive hand. “Keep her in line.” Jay doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance at him. His focus is entirely on me, and it feels like a challenge. “Well?” I demand, crossing my arms. “Aren’t you going to bow or something? Isn’t that what bodyguards do for their princesses?” His dark eyes spark with amusement. “I don’t bow, princess. But nice try.” God, I hate him already. My teeth grind together, and I glance at my father, who’s watching the exchange like it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all week. “I hate you,” I say, turning back to Jay. His smirk widens, and I hate the way it makes my pulse skip “Noted,” he replies, his tone maddeningly calm. I storm out of my father’s office, the heels of my Louboutins clicking against the marble floor, echoing like tiny gunshots in the cavernous hall. Every step feels like a statement: I don’t care. I don’t care about him, his empire, or the ridiculous man now trailing behind me. The shadow of Jay Carter moves in my peripheral vision, deliberate and steady. He’s keeping his distance for now, but his presence is impossible to ignore. His boots fall heavier than my heels, each step a reminder that he’s not going away. I whirl around, my hair whipping over my shoulder, to face him. “You know,” I snap, my voice dripping with venom, “you don’t have to follow me everywhere. This isn’t some spy movie where you shadow my every move.” He stops in his tracks, crossing his arms over his chest. The way he leans slightly to one side, completely at ease, makes my blood boil. “Actually, princess, it kind of is.” “Don’t call me that,” I bite out, my fists curling at my sides. “Why not?” he asks, his voice infuriatingly calm, his lips tugging into a smirk. “It suits you. Princess of the empire, untouchable and all that.” I take a step closer, my gaze narrowing. “You don’t know me. So don’t act like you do.” “You’re right,” he says, shrugging like this conversation is the most casual thing in the world. “I don’t know you. But I don’t have to. I know your type.” “My type?” I echo, my voice rising. “Yeah,” he says, leaning against the wall. His dark eyes flick over me, not in the usual leering way men look at me, but with a sharpness that feels like he’s dissecting me piece by piece. “Spoiled, stubborn, and reckless. You think the world revolves around you because no one’s ever told you otherwise.” I should slap him. I want to slap him. But his words hit too close to home, and the sting of them steals the air from my lungs. I cross my arms over my chest, matching his stance. “And you think you’re so much better, don’t you? Let me guess—you’re the stoic protector with a dark past, here to save the princess from herself?” His smirk widens, and he tilts his head slightly, like he’s amused by my outburst. “Not quite. I’m here to save you from the people who’d happily put a bullet between your eyes if it meant taking down your father. Whether you like it or not, I’m the only thing standing between you and them.” For a moment, I can’t speak. His words hang in the air, heavy with a truth I don’t want to admit. I know he’s right—my father’s enemies would kill me without a second thought. But I’ve spent so long pretending not to care, and I’m not about to let Jay Carter of all people shatter the illusion. “You think you’re scaring me?” I ask, my voice steadier than I feel. “You’re not.” “I’m not trying to scare you,” he says, his tone softening just a fraction. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”