The secret life of a Mob Princess

News report January 17th, 2020 Carlo Torrese, the reputed leader of the nation's largest and most powerful crime organisation was shot to death late yesterday evening by two assassins on a bustling street in East Williamsburg, Brooklyn. As Mr. Torrese, and two of his associates, stepped out of a restaurant on Bushwick Avenue shortly before 9:30 P.M., the police said, the two men approached, drew semi-automatic weapons from a sports bag and opened up a barrage of gunfire at close range. Mr. Torrese  was shot about seven times in the head and upper body and fell dead in front of his vehicle as the driver had got out to open the door.  After the shooting, witnesses said, the gunmen fled on foot in the direction of Metropolitan Avenue, where they jumped into a waiting dark 4x4 that sped off onto the avenue and disappeared, leaving behind a grisly tableau of underworld murder. This is the third shooting this month of a high profile mafioso, it makes you stop and wonder, are we in the middle of an underworld war?         The neatly lined brownstones of Park Slope, Brooklyn were a stark contrast to the sprawling estates Isabella was used to in Wechester County. Her nose pressed up against the cold glass window as she tried to look upward at the towering buildings, longer than they were wide. Everything seemed so close and cramped together, the sidewalks littered with cans and newspapers and cigarette butts. Isabella crinkled her nose up with disgust whilst slumping back into the passenger seat and let out an exasperated sigh “How much further, Anthony?” The car journey had been like a vacuum before this point, not a single word exchanged between the pair in hours. Anthony, the driver, muttered back “We’re almost there, not even a block away.” The move from the life she had created in Wechester County had not been without heated disagreements, tears and tantrums, all of which had fallen on deaf ears. Leaving behind her old life, her home, her friends and the memories of her mother had been hard for Isabella and something she wasn’t prepared for. She was set to graduate high school later that year and she’d just made it official with her hometown hunk and the high school quarterback, Thomas. Everything was as perfect as it could’ve been. Isabella sunk further into the seat as her mind wandered whilst the sleek, black Maybach crawled through the streets of New York. The more she stewed over the events of the last week, from the news of the death, to the funeral and then the news of her moving to join her father in New York the more her facial expression changed from one of mild disgust to a rage-filled scowl. It wasn’t fair. “We’re here.” Anthony said as he opened the passenger door of the Mercedes.