Queen Mafia
*Chapter 3: Fire Beneath the Throne*
Rain poured down on Naples like the sky itself was mourning — or warning.
Sienna stood on the balcony of her late father's villa, dressed in black silk, her hair wet and clinging to her face. From up here, she could see the city her family once ruled with an iron fist, a kingdom built on blood, secrets, and fear. Now it was hers.
But power never came freely. Not even when it was inherited through death.
Inside, Luca entered the study, nodding once. "We found Marco."
Her jaw clenched. "Where?"
"Hiding in a safe house in Genoa. Surrounded by six men. Paid off by the Russians."
Sienna closed her eyes briefly. The betrayal stung deeper than any bullet. Marco — the man who once swore to protect her, who whispered love into her ears at night — had sold her father to the enemy.
"When do we move?" she asked.
Luca hesitated. "Tonight. If we wait any longer, he'll disappear again."
She turned to him, her eyes sharp. "Then we don't wait."
***
Later that night, Sienna sat in the back of a matte-black SUV, her fingers tapping against a handgun she hadn't used in years. She didn't need guards. She didn't need approval. She needed justice.
As the car sped through silent streets, memories flooded in. The first time Marco kissed her. The night he gave her a ring. The promises. The lies.
By the time they reached the compound, she was ice.
"Stay in the car," she told Luca.
"Sienna—"
"This is my war."
She stepped into the darkness with nothing but her pistol and fury. Her boots made no sound. Her heart did not waver.
Inside the safehouse, the air reeked of sweat and fear. One by one, she took down the guards — fast, quiet, efficient. When she finally stood at the door to Marco's room, she didn't hesitate.
She kicked it open.
Marco turned, stunned. "Sienna—wait!"
She didn't.
A single shot grazed his arm, forcing him to his knees. Blood trickled down as he held up trembling hands.
"I didn't mean for it to happen—"
"You were there."
"I tried to stop them—"
"You *watched* him die," she hissed.
Marco crawled backward, hitting the wall. "You loved me once!"
"I did," she said softly, walking toward him. "And that's why you're still breathing."
Sienna knelt beside him. "This isn't about love anymore. This is about legacy."
She took his phone, pulled the files, names, and payment logs — everything linking him to the Russians. Then she stood, wiping her hands like she'd cleaned off the past.
"I want you to deliver a message to the Bratva," she said coldly. "Tell them the Queen is awake."
And then, without another word, she walked away — heels clicking against the tiled floor, each step echoing power.
Behind her, Marco collapsed in tears.
Outside, Luca waited, silent.
"It's done?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
The storm inside her had only just begun.
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Let me know if you'd like *Chapter 4* next.