The Mafia Princess and The Billionaire Twins

The Mafia Princess and Her Billionaire Twins. Chapter One – Sarah-Sofia I look around my small apartment in Rome for the last time, it feels like yesterday when I first arrived here, yet three years have gone by in a flash. University was a blast, a time to be free, a time to be me. Of course, I aced all my subjects, gaining my degree in business, learning how to run a legal business empire. I smile slightly, soon I will take over a business empire, only it is not quite the legal kind. My father, Marco Dovizioso, is the boss of bosses, the headman ruling over all of the mafia families in Italy, and some of America. He is a man whose name has many trembling upon hearing it, the man who ruthlessly wiped out the mafia competition for the title he now holds. But more importantly, he is my hero. My papa, who most fear, to me, is the best father anyone could be blessed with. He is kind, loving, affectionate. His real personality is a juxtaposition to the reputation he holds. Only his family and real friends witness that side of him, brought out by my loving mother, long ago when she was contracted to marry him. I smile again, Mama, Doctor Eva Dovizioso, the woman who ran away at just 18 to avoid marrying my father, but life changed, and never have you met a couple more deeply in love. She was the good to his evil, and together they became the perfect balance. Papa has a vision, to legitimise the Mafia he ruthlessly runs. However, sometimes to achieve good, you need a little evil to keep the power-hungry men who seek only power and wealth, those that will stop at nothing, and have no respect for the old ways, nor will they embrace the new way of operating. They want to gain control of families under the Dovizioso leadership. Most discount me, the mafia princess, the only daughter of Marco and Eva Dovizioso. They see no value in a woman taking the mafia throne that my father holds. Many presume that papa will pass his title to one of my four brothers. Ricardo, who is just 11 months my junior, would be their ideal choice. In fact, any of my brothers, the old guard, would prefer to take over. But they take after my mother, all of them kind, compassionate, studious, who want to do good in this world. I am the only one who inherited our papa’s ruthless streak, I am the only one who has seen things you would never believe if I told you, I am the only one who has followed our father into the depths of hell, and looked a man in the eye, as he shook with fear before I unloaded my gun in his head, then slept soundly in my bed. I am the only choice, and I will take over, and no man will stop me. Grabbing my box, I walked out of the door of the apartment for the last time, my Jimmy Choo heels clicking against the marble floor of the hallway, as I made my way down the staircase. “Sarah-Sofia!” The voice of my Aunt Teresa shouts excitedly to me, as she jumps out of her black Ferrari waving. “Aunt Terri, what are you doing here?” I grinned, she is by far my favourite aunt, wild and free, she cares nothing about what people think of her, yet everyone loves her. None more so than my Uncle Vincent. The pair are inseparable. As I looked around though, Uncle Vinnie was nowhere to be seen. “Where is your other half?” I grinned up at my aunt, her once brown hair is now grey, and she wears the colour of age like a crown, refusing to dye it. “He had a little work to do for your papa, he will meet us at the jet,” Terri smiled. A little work for my papa could only mean one thing. Someone needed reminding just who was boss, and Vinnie was sent to make them aware that the next transgression would solicit a visit from my father himself, something most mafia bosses wanted to avoid like the plague. Aunt Terri looked at me, shaking her head. “Every time I see you, you look more like your father, only your wild curls are your mothers,” She grins at me. It is true, my hair is almost out of control. corkscrew curls, like my mother's, only unlike her red locks mine are the deep chocolate brown of my father. My eyes are also identical to his deep dark warm brown, that can be filled with love, or icy cold, causing you to shiver in fear with one look. “I hope I am better looking than papa,” I laughed slightly. “Hey, your papa was hot, with a capital H back in the day. Actually, he is still smoking now, even for a man in his fifties,” Aunt Terri informs me. “Talking of smoking, he is in the dog house with your mama again. She caught him with a cigar in his office. I have been tasked with finding something expensive for him to apologise with.” I cannot stop the smile from spreading across my face if I tried, the great Don Dovizioso was a whipped man, and I know all too well, he will be moping about the house until Mama forgives him of his smoking crime. “Did you find anything then?” I asked, knowing my mother was not one for designer clothes or expensive trinkets, finding a gift for her was a little bit of a nightmare. She was happier in her green scrubs working away at the small hospital in Sicily where we lived, and although Aunt Terri, my Uncle Mattias, and his husband Alessandro had tried many a time to get her into fashion, she stubbornly refused to embrace the garments our family's excessive wealth could provide. “Yes, a first edition book. A 1771 publication of the Natural History of The Human Teeth. The owner didn’t want to part with it, but my Vinnie helped me convince him,” Aunt Terri laughed. I shook my head, and laughed slightly. I can only imagine how that 'convincing' went. “Best not tell Mama that little fact, you know how she feels about how our family operates,” I smiled. “No, no, nothing violent happened. We just offered him a life-changing amount of money, one he could not refuse. Your father’s account is now 1.5 million euros lighter.” “That was a costly cigar,” I giggle, as Aunt Tereasa floors the accelerator and we speed off through the Roman streets, towards the private airport to head home to Sicily. As I walk into my childhood home, the armed guards all nod in respect, as my mother rushes into the marble hallway, her red hair hanging wild and free, dressed in her green scrubs, and engulfs me in her warm embrace. “Sarah-Sofia Dovizioso, I am so happy you are home,” She cries as she holds me tight. “Mama, I have missed you,” I smiled, because I have. She is the heart and soul of this family, and also the Mafia as a whole. Without her by my papa’s side, life would be a lot more ruthless, and the peace we enjoy between families would not exist. “Where is Papa?” I asked, looking around for my beloved father. “Right here princess,” His deep voice echoes around the hall, as I broke free from my mama’s hold and rushed to him, into his warm, safe, loving arms. Papa nods at some of the guards, who walk up the staircase with my boxes of belongings. “SS, you killed anyone this week?” My brother Ricardo asks, with a smile on his face. “No, not this week, but hey, that could change, any second now,” I grinned at my brother, who laughs shaking his head. Yes, my siblings have nicknamed me SS, not just because of the initials of my name, but because I am, according to them, ruthless, and will stop at nothing to get my way. I cannot deny they have a point. I walk over and give him a hug, as he smiles, then breaks my embrace. “Hands off the suit, I have a date tonight,” he grins, and I laugh. My brother always has a date, and the girls of Sicily, and some of their mothers, truth be told, are often left heartbroken when he moves on to the next. “Where is Danilo?” I asked of my 18-year-old brother. “He is busy packing, he is moving to England next week, to begin his medical degree,” Mama tells me with pride. “Sonny is in the library with Nono, and Lorenzo is in the kitchen with Nona Sofia and Nona Guilia, cooking up a storm for your homecoming meal tonight,” Ricardo tells me. I smile, my brothers, as predictable as ever. Nona’s Sofia and Giulia are not my grandmothers by birth, but they are in all of our hearts. People think because we are a Mafioso family, we do not have or understand love, but that is where they are wrong. The love that exists in my family is what gives us strength. We embrace it, and welcome it. But, woe betide anyone who attacks those we love, as vengeance is swift and ruthless, and sealed with a kiss. “Well, I will go get my things unpacked, and come down for dinner,” I smiled, then headed up the staircase to my rooms. As I walk into my bedroom, it has not changed since I left nearly four years ago, at the tender age of just 18. I smile as I see my signed photograph from my 17th birthday sitting on my dresser. At that time, I had the biggest crush on the lead singer of ‘The Apparent’, Jaxon Masters. My father paid a small fortune for the band to come play at my party, and that was when I became infatuated with not only Jaxon but his identical twin brother, Elliot. He was a doctor, and although they said they would see me when I reached my 18th birthday, by then my life was on course for University, and I did not want the large party that my mother was planning for me. Picking up the picture, I smiled, it was true Jaxon was hot as hell itself, with that bad boy, rocker look. A superstar in his own right, but childhood crushes are not a part of my life now, and so, with one last look, I took the picture and placed it into the box of keepsakes I have in the bottom of my wardrobe. I said goodbye to my teenage girl's fantasy, replacing the picture with one from my graduation, surrounded by my family, those that one day I want to lead. It was time for me to grow up, it was my time to shine, and from this point forwards, it was my time to prove I was worthy of the title Boss of Boss’s.