Mafia Queen*
*Chapter 11: Blood Ties and Betrayals*
The sky over Rome was grey, thick with clouds that refused to cry. It was the kind of silence before a storm, and Sienna could feel it in her bones. Power had been reclaimed, but peace was still a myth.
She sat in the library of her newly taken mansion, fingers gliding over the leather spine of an old family ledger. It smelled of dust and secrets. Viktor stood nearby, arms crossed, waiting for her decision.
"They're gathering in Sicily," he said. "Luciano, Franco, and even Enzo from the south. They want a meeting."
"Or a war," Sienna replied coldly.
Matteo entered the room, his face dark. "It's not just them. Someone leaked your plans. The ones we kept off-record. There's a traitor in our ranks."
The room fell into silence. Not fear—anger. Controlled and sharp.
***
Hours later, Sienna stood in front of her inner circle. The fire behind her cast shadows that danced across their faces. One of them had betrayed her. She could smell it—like iron in the air.
"No lies," she said. "Only truth. Or this fire burns more than wood tonight."
Each member placed their hand on the table—an oath they made years ago. Except Elena. Her hesitation was brief, but Sienna saw it. And in their world, hesitation was confession.
"Elena," she whispered, not as a question but a sentence.
Tears welled in the woman's eyes. "It wasn't meant to hurt you. I just… I wanted to protect my brother. He owed Franco. They said they'd kill him."
"You chose him over the family," Viktor growled.
"No," Sienna said. "She chose weakness over loyalty."
With a single nod, she turned her back. She couldn't watch. Trust once broken had no second breath in their world.
The gunshot echoed like a gavel.
Judgement delivered.
***
Later that night, alone on the rooftop, Sienna lit a cigarette. The city lights flickered below. Matteo joined her, silent.
"You think I've changed?" she asked.
"You had to," he replied. "Or you'd be dead."
She smiled faintly. "Sometimes I miss who I was. Before the blood. Before the crown."
"But without the fire, there would be no queen," he said.
She looked at him, eyes fierce yet tired. "Then let them bring the war. I didn't rise this far just to kneel when they bark."
He smirked. "They'll learn soon enough. You don't kneel. You burn."
As the wind swept her hair and the ashes of her cigarette danced into the sky, Sienna knew this was just another wave in the ocean of battles ahead.
But she was the storm.
And storms never beg for mercy.
—