He Let My Brother Die, so I Married Another Don

The day my only brother was cornered in a dockside warehouse by a rival mafia family, I knelt on the carpet of Damian's study and begged him.

"Lend me ten men. I only need to hold until dawn, and the men I hired can get up here from the south side."

He took a drag on his cigar and scoffed, "Ten men? Do you know how many people have eyes on that shipment on the north side tonight? My men aren't here to wipe up your messes."

My knuckles went white where I had hold of the hem of his trousers. My phone screen lit up. A message about my brother taking a bullet, the blood a blurred smear of red.

I was about to beg again when I heard him place a call over my head. His voice went soft, the way you'd soothe a child.

"Go pick up the west-side shipment yourself. I'm giving you fifty gunmen to back you up. Don't be scared. If we lose men, that's on me. You just come back safe." That was the adopted sister he'd taken in. When he first brought her home she'd stuttered when she spoke.

I let go of his trouser leg and got up off the carpet without a sound.

Damian finally looked down at me. He smiled and wiped my tears away with his thumb.

"That's more like it. Don't come crying to me every time the wind shifts. Handle your own family's business yourself. That's how the Moretti family works."

I nodded calmly, walked out of the study, and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time.

"Dad, you were right. Giving up my place as a mafia princess for a man from some small family wasn't worth it. I'll marry the Don of the Gambino Family."