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Chapter One
JULIAN
“Sir, it appears that the ‘Queen of Hearts’ is at it again. Three dead downtown.” Daniel, my assistant, clears his throat softly before dropping some files onto my desk. He runs a hand through his dark chestnut hair avoiding my gaze and I know it’s because he’s been reluctant to inform me of this latest development, but I had been expecting it.
Leaning back in my plush leather chair, I glance over at the calendar resting on my oak desk. May the eighth. Right on time.
Daniel places a coffee before me, and finally gives me a pitying look. He knows the score by now since he’d been with me for years, but it still didn’t make him less nervous when he had to tell me about the Queen’s antics. He was a little too soft to work for me, but I’d hired him all the same. A slight, anxious man with big brown eyes hidden behind a pair of round glasses and messy hair, he was unoffensive and seemed to make a lot of my clients feel relaxed, especially since I was usually surrounded by mean-looking mother fuckers.
Glancing out the window, I take in Newtown in all its early morning glory. This city was my home, with its hustle and bustle, from the dark and seedy side run by The Family, to the picture-perfect suburbs filled with happy families and wealthy businessmen. All of it fell under my domain as the current Don or ‘Father’ of the Family. Eli and I had called it ‘Wonderland’ jokingly once after a night with too much tequila and it stuck. Newtown was a place filled with amazements and cruelty, brutality and beauty and from that, the WunderLnd Corporation was born. Ten years of honing my network, building relationships, investing in businesses, guiding The Family to where it was now and yet every year, on May the 8th, one woman undermined all of that.
Rubbing my forehead with a groan, I ignore my Left Hand, Elijah Creed chuckling on my sofa. He’s tied his long hair back today, and dressed for the office, but the sharp cut of his suit does nothing to hide the menacing aura that clings to him like a second skin. Tattoos snake up his neck, across the exposed flesh on his chest and on his hands. The scar that splits his eyebrow neatly in two adds to the glare he gives me, the one that says ‘Told you so!’
As my best friend, Eli thinks this is all just a funny game. As my Left Hand, he thinks I should have killed her a long time ago and put an end to these petty gifts of hers. I’m well aware that if I don’t get her under control soon, I’ll have a bigger issue than some dead retired gangsters.
People were supporting her and slowly, each year she was gaining more influence. They protected her, hid her, funded her and kept her off my radar. The people who were supposed to be MY people protected her. It undermined me, and sowed seeds of dissent amongst the ranks. I wasn’t a fool, I knew that before long if she kept this up, she’d be running The Family. I’d had to protect and pledge allegiance to several of the men who’d carried out the massacre with my father and Frank that night ten years ago. I said I would protect them, swore to them that I would and yet each year some of them died.
“Hearts?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. There’s a reason the press and the rest of the Family have dubbed her the ‘Queen of Hearts’, and it’s not because she’s a generous, giving woman. She’s a devil who likes to get her hands dirty.
Another awkward cough as Daniel’s face pales. “Removed.”
I could expect another article in the news tomorrow talking about the crazy Queen of Hearts whose identity has yet to be discovered after all these years. There were conspiracy theories of course, there always were. But since nothing could ever be linked back to me, and I made sure Creed disposed of the evidence making me just another concerned citizen of Newtown. Those bodies simply became empty shells, with missing hearts. I wonder if she really did remove them herself, or if she made one of her minions do it. No one outside of this room and the crazy bitch herself, knew that they were in an ornate box on my assistant’s desk.
“You know the drill,” I sigh, waving my hand at Daniel, knowing that he’s now going to scrub his desk within an inch of its life, and I’m going to deposit a fat bonus in his account to make up for it. “I’m going to wring her neck when I get my hands on her.”
I feel Eli slap my shoulder affectionately. “Why don’t you just let me kill her Jules?”
He leans back to sit on the edge of my desk, as we both look out the window in brooding silence for a few moments. He’s my closest friend, the Left Hand of The Family. It’s his job to clean up these messes and protect our organization but she is different. I can’t bring myself to dispose of her so easily.
“Because if you kill Rosalyn Gambino, then I’m no better than my father.” I bury my head in my hands. I’m not just the head of this organization, I’m also a lawyer and from one of the most influential families in this city. I’m in the public eye regularly, so my extra-duties as the head of The Family need to be kept quiet. There are only three people I trust completely, one of them is dead, one is currently perched on my desk and the other is outside cleaning up my messy history. I don’t even give Janice, my receptionist for the last five years the same level of trust as I do them.
“Who’s dead?” I ask even though the list of possible candidates has grown considerably smaller over time. Initially it had seemed like the kills were random, just another way to get back at my father and Frank Belcastro for what they took from her that night. And they took everything. I don’t even know how she managed to survive, how she escaped and yet she did. It wasn’t until we dug a little deeper, we realized they’d all been present that night. The dead men had all helped us destroy the Gambino branch of the Family in some way, and she knew it.
“Lewis Salvatore, Frankie Rossi and Roy Palma,” Eli says as he looks at the tablet Daniel left behind.
Fuck. Salvatore and Rossi had both been my father’s bodyguards ten years ago and as for Palma—he’d been the head of Gambino security. “How do we know, Creed?”
“Their bodies were identified an hour ago.” He checks his phone, his contact in the police department no doubt confirming the details Daniel had given us.
“Were they reported missing?” How had three of my men been killed without a peep? Without even a ripple in Newtown of them being missing?
Part of Creed’s role was to keep track of various members, and although he didn’t appear fastidious with his duties, he was. He shrugs, before launching into an explanation. “The Rossi family have gone into hiding; Frankie’s sons are believed to be somewhere in China. Salvatore was a drunk who often went missing for days at a time and Palma lived off the grid with his male lover.”
The Rossi’s were entitled assholes, but smart. If they were on the run, then they knew what was coming. They hadn’t come to me for my protection like the others, and now it was out of my hands. Salvatore’s widow would collect a nice little payout from his death which should clear the gambling debts he’d accrued through his drinking habits. That was one less worry on my plate with his death at least. Even though I had no issues with anyone’s sexuality, older fractions of The Family still held on to traditionalist views which meant Roy had been pushed out slowly until he was living, isolated from the people he’d served his whole life. Pushing the intercom, I ask Daniel to return to my office when he’s done wiping down his work space. I’ll need him to follow up with the widow and the lover just to ensure they were provided for. These were still my people. Every year her targets were getting closer to the center, closer to me. I’m pretty sure her plan was to save me for last.
“And you’re sure it’s her, Sir?” Daniel asks as he enters my office with more paperwork for my already crammed schedule for today, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he shuffles toward my desk.
My intercom system buzzes, Janice’s voice crackles through the speakers. “There’s a delivery down here at reception for you, Sir.”
I ignore Daniel’s words. Of course, it’s her. Who else would mail me the hearts of three of my soldiers on the anniversary of her parents’ death?
“Deal with it, Eli.” I cover my face and turn away from the window. Fuck. Had Rosie lost her damn mind? When was she going to give up with these stupid little games? Her family was gone. Belcastro and my father were gone. Was it really worth dedicating her whole life to this?
Eli nods. “As always Julian, but I still don’t get why you don’t just kill her. Death is a much more satisfactory action here.”
“Because . . .” I don’t want to. “Because I’m going to handle this.”
Creed narrows his eyes at me for a second and shrugs before leaving the office. He’s been by my side my entire life; he knows that I’m avoiding what must be done because I don’t want to repeat my father’s sins. I wanted to be different from him, I wanted to rein in the bloodthirsty nature of our Family. I’m not naive, I know that being the head of the mafia means having to make decisions that get my hands dirty, but I also know that violence is slowly losing its power to money and I plan to use that. I want to move us forward.
The world Eli and I grew up in was vastly different to the one we oversee now. We are not the monsters who raised us. I would never cause pain for fun, unlike my father. Felix Asaro was a violent man, who only knew how to communicate with his fists. Like all children in The Family, death and destruction was the norm. I killed my first man when I was only twelve, and when I’d thrown up afterwards, my father had laughed before making me clean it up. My teenage years were spent reluctantly witnessing and partaking in gruesome crimes, and watching the fallout as we returned home and my father beat me for my ‘pussy-ways’. Except I wasn’t a pussy, I was a kid. A kid who others congratulated and admired. Frank Belcastro, our Don even praised me for being the kind of man they needed in The Family, but all my father saw was flaws.
When I finally managed to claw my way to the top and move us away from all the needless bloodshed, Rosie reminded me exactly of all those cracks in my armor. She dug her nails into all of my flaws and wormed her fingers in deeper until I bled. Miss Gambino was gaining a reputation since she’s the embodiment of the ‘old ways’, where force and violence equate to strength according to my Captains, and that’s why she was growing a following. People want bloodthirsty, they want power and if she looks anything like she did ten years ago, I’m willing to bet that being beautiful doesn’t hurt her campaign.
