The Ruthless Mafia King

The package arrived without warning.

No return address. No tracking.

Just her name written in sharp, black ink.

EMILIA BLAKE

CONFIDENTIAL. PRIVATE. EYES ONLY.

She found it waiting at her door the next morning — the one she hadn't opened in days. At first, she thought it was another threat. A message from the Mancinis. Or worse… a trap.

But inside the envelope was something far more dangerous than bullets.

A letter.

Handwritten. Yellowed. Fragile.

She sat on the edge of the bed, heart pounding as she unfolded it.

And when her eyes caught the first line, the breath left her lungs.

"To my daughter, if she ever finds this…"

It was his handwriting.

Victor Blake.

Her father.

"I never thought Elise would be strong enough to leave. But if she did, it means you grew up safe — away from this world of men who bleed power and kill for legacy. If you're reading this, it means I didn't make it out. Or worse… I became what I swore I wouldn't."

"I tried to change things. Tried to build something more. But war never listens. Especially when you're not willing to kill what you love to keep your empire alive."

"If you find Moretti — if he finds you — be careful. He's not like the others. He doesn't kill recklessly. He kills with purpose. And if he spares you… it means you matter."

"But don't let him write your story."

"You are not your blood. You are not your enemies. You are your choices."

"Forgive me, Emilia. For everything."

"— Your father, V."

Emilia sat frozen, the letter shaking in her hands.

He'd known. About her. About Alessandro. About everything.

And even in death, he'd tried to reach her.

Tried to remind her who she was — not who the world said she should be.

She reread the last line over and over.

You are your choices.

A knock at the door.

Alessandro.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly.

She didn't answer for a long time.

Then softly: "Only if you're ready to let me choose."

He stepped inside.

And for the first time… he didn't lead.

He followed.