PlotlumeI was the most notorious troublemaker in all of Rome, and the only daughter of a Sicilian Mafia Don.
I was barely born in a private hospital when I saw a vicious nanny trying to swap me out.
Luckily, a nurse on shift caught the nanny and put me back where I belonged.
For eighteen years I burned Dad's cigar room, blew up my brother's underground arsenal, and became the number one female terror of Rome.
At my coming-of-age party, a girl named Gianna burst into the family banquet, crying that she was the real heiress.
I was about to enjoy the show when my informant texted me.
"Girl, don't just watch! This is a manipulative snake who'll have the whole family believing she's the real heiress!"
"Your whole family is going to be ruined by her!"
I looked at that fake-innocent little snake, and instead of being scared, I rubbed my hands together with glee.
I turned and yelled at the gang of Mafia thugs behind me:
"Boys, go to the back courtyard and bring out my ten Sicilian hounds. They're hungry!"
"Let's give this so-called heiress a real welcome!"
1
Ten Sicilian hounds as tall as a man's waist charged into the banquet hall.
Chains dragged across the floor, clanking, and the lead dog plowed into a three-meter champagne tower.
Glass shattered everywhere, and wine mixed with dog drool ran across the floor.
Everyone screamed and jumped onto the tables. The Instagram socialites dropped their phones.
I sat cross-legged on the leather sofa at the head table and pointed straight at Gianna in the middle of the hall.
"Attack her!"
"Throw her out of here!"
Gianna didn't back off. She threw her arms open to meet the charging hounds.
She tilted her head back, tears falling in fat drops.
Sister! If it'll make you feel better, I'll take whatever you dish out!
"I shouldn't have shown up at your coming-of-age party. I don't blame you!"
"Don and Madam, please don't blame Sister for what happened to me. She's just too afraid of losing your love!"
The family elders instantly blew up, jabbing fingers at my face and cursing.
"Caroline is too vicious! That's a human life!"
"Racing through Rome and blowing things up is one thing, but now she wants to set dogs on a girl who came to meet her family!"
"She's a total lunatic with no manners. She doesn't act like a Mafia heir at all!"
In my head, my informant was losing it.
"Oh my God, stop! Blow the whistle and call them off!"
"Gianna's playing a sob story! She's a manipulator who feeds on people's sympathy to take what isn't hers!"
"If you don't stop now, you'll be branded a monster who hurt your own family!"
I rolled my eyes, stuck two fingers in my mouth, and blew a piercing attack whistle.
A sob story?
Let's see if her nerve is tougher than my dogs' teeth!
The lead hound roared, leaped into the air, and lunged at Gianna's throat.
Just as its fangs were one inch from her neck, a deafening gunshot rang out!
Bang!
The lead hound was shot dead in midair. Its body hit the red carpet, and blood spattered Gianna's dress.
I sat bolt upright.
At the head of the hall, Vittorio, the Don who always treated my word as law, was holding a smoking Beretta.
Dad lunged at her like a madman and pulled Gianna into his arms.
The dying hound's claws swiped across Gianna's skirt, and she shrieked and stumbled back into the crowd.
"Caroline! Stop this right now!"
Dad roared at me, veins bulging on his forehead.
"Have you no respect for me as your father? Setting dogs loose on people at a family party! You want all of Sicily laughing at us?!"
Dario, my brother, who'd been running up with a baseball bat to help me wreck the party, suddenly froze in his tracks.
The bat clattered to the floor, and he stood there stiff as a stone.
Following his gaze, I looked at Gianna's shoulder.
Right in the center of it was a dark red thorn-rose birthmark!
The hall went dead silent. You could hear every breath.
Dad looked down at the mark, and his whole body began to tremble.
He reached out a hand thick with calluses and gently touched the dark red rose. His eyes went red.
"A thorn rose... This is a mark found only in our family's bloodline..."
Dad whipped his head toward me, chest heaving.
"Caroline, you don't have this mark on your left shoulder! Who are you?!"
I jumped off the sofa, strode to Gianna, and jabbed my finger right onto the birthmark on her shoulder.
"Old man, your eyes are going!"
"Any tattoo parlor on the streets of Rome will do that for fifty dollars. And she thinks she can show off a cheap thing like that?!"