Mafia Queen

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Chapter 2, Purple Bruises And Heavy Burdens

- 1 Year Ago -

I bite back a scream as Jaxon kicks me in the gut, my breath whooshing out of me. He would probably stop if he knew how much he was hurting me. But I don’t want him to go easy on me.

I fall back from the force of the kick, fuming at him. He smirks at me, thinking he has won.

How wrong he is.

I’m quick to react, gathering my legs under me and springing at him.

This time, Jaxon’s the one to fall back.

I sit on top of him, using my body weight to make it harder for him to get up. I pin Jaxon’s arms against his body with my legs, disabling him.

We both gleam with sweat, our breaths coming out fast and hard, in gasps. But still, we continue. Still, neither of us will back down.

We are too prideful.

I pummel his gut with punch after punch, waiting for the signal of his surrender. Jaxon flinches, his face alight with pain, but I keep going.

After struggling several times to get up but failing, he hits the ground with his fist three times, signaling his defeat.

And my victory.

For a moment, we stay where we are, catching our breaths. It’s painful, though, since we both bruised each other badly. Maybe even broke a few bones.

When I’m sure I’ll be able to stand up without falling, I offer my hand to him. Jaxon’s still on the ground, in pain, but he gives me a small, proud smile.

He’s proud of me.

Jaxon takes my hand, and I pull him up, onto his feet. Together, we limp out of the boxing ring and head to the infirmary.

“You’re getting better,” He says in between pained intakes of breath.

I grimace at the pain I inflicted on him.

“Sorry about that,” I wince, nodding at his bruised stomach.

“It’s all part of the training,” He assures me, knowing that I’m worried about him.

We reach the infirmary, where a nurse is looking through some folders. Her black hair is up in a loose bun, and she wears glasses. She looks up as we walk towards her, and she immediately leads us to a room.

She doesn’t bother asking us what we were doing. She probably already knows. It a normal occurrence around here.

“Him first,” I insist since Jaxon got the worst injuries between us.

He protests, but I push him towards the nurse, and she starts taking care of him.

The nurse asks Jaxon to take his shirt off and leaves to get ice. I try not to stare as he takes off his sweat-soaked tank-top, revealing his finely defined abs. Instead, I find myself staring at my black shoes.

“Since when have your shoes been so interesting?” Jaxon asks me slyly.

I roll my eyes and look up to meet his sky-blue gaze. And we stay like that, staring at each other until the nurse comes back.

She seems taken aback by his strong form, and I feel relieved that I’m not the only one. Shaking her head, she gets back on task, putting ice against his very bruised stomach. I wince again at the sight. She wraps bandages around the ice pack to hold it in place.

“You need to rest and refrain from fighting for at least five days to a week. Ice the bruise every day for twenty minutes.” She instructs Jaxon, writing the instructions down on a small notepad.

She tears the note out and hands it to Jaxon, then beckons me forward. It’s my turn.

**********************************

After both Jaxon and I get fixed up, we head to the cafeteria-like dining room.

This whole place is like a huge maze, full of uncountable hallways and rooms. It’s officially known as the Crimson Base. My father’s last name.

There’s the training area, which we just left, the dorms, the garden, the conference room, and the cafeteria-like dining room that we’re heading to. When you’re as rich as my father, places like this are easy to have.

But then there are the not so pleasant rooms, like the interrogation room, isolation room, and the torture room. And that’s because of what my father does for a living, and why he is so rich.

He is the Mafia King.

I shiver at the thought of taking his place, which is what I’m training for. Though my father would’ve preferred a son, he has me instead. I’m an only child, so I’m his only choice.

I really don’t want to be part of the mafia, much less be the leader, but it’s not something I get to decide. You’re either really stupid or really brave to go against what the Mafia King says. And I consider myself neither brave or stupid.

A small part of me wants to prove to my father that I’m worthy of taking his place. I want to show him that just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I won’t be an amazing mafia leader.

All these thoughts and the pain from my kicked stomach are giving me a headache.

I shake my head, focusing on one of my favorite things in the world - food. I smile, eager to stuff anything I can get down my throat.

Grabbing a well-deserved pizza along with two bottles of water and brownies for Jaxon and me, I find an empty table and sit down. Jaxon follows, taking a seat behind me while trying to hide his flinch of pain.

Gosh, my guilt is going to eat me up alive for hurting him. But training is anything but gentle. It’s brutal. All to be prepared to serve my father.

Together, we share the whole pizza, talking about random things.

As a guilt-gift, I let him eat my dessert as well as his. Though he tells me it’s no big deal, he gladly takes my brownie without hesitation.

I bite back a laugh as he devours his dessert and mine.

Being bottomless pits is something we have in common, it seems.

My phone rings suddenly, cutting me off mid-laugh from a joke Jaxon just told me.

Picking up my phone, I listen as an urgent voice tells me something that breaks my world into a million pieces.

I hang up abruptly, no longer laughing. A flurry of emotions threatens to overwhelm me.

Jaxon looks at me in confusion, and I wait a long time before I answer, still processing what I was just told.

Looking at him straight in his sky-blue eyes, I tell him. Even though saying it out loud makes it feel real.

“My father is dead.”


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