Wanted By The Mafia King Not Your Property

GIANNA POV

“You cannot do that, Father!” I said angrily, slamming my hand against the table while trying to control my rising anger, but I was failing.

My father looked up from his papers, adjusted his glasses, then went back to his work, completely ignoring me. After a moment, he set his papers aside, settled into his seat, and picked up a cigar. One of his guards standing behind him lit it for him.

He took a drag, blowing smoke into the air while staring at me. Finally, in the most nonchalant tone, he asked, “What is it, Gianna?” My jaw clenched as I tried to suppress my growing anger. I took a deep breath and said,

“First of all, why did you crown Miguel underboss? I have been the one by your side during dangerous missions and life-changing deals, but for some reason, Miguel deserves that title and I don't? He basically does nothing, Father!” He stared at me, saying nothing, before taking another drag of his cigarette. He exhaled the smoke and said,

“It doesn’t matter what you do or how you feel, you are a female.” Those words shattered my heart. “To think I would let a female assume the role of underboss in my organization is almost laughable. Do you want the other dons to laugh at me?”

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration, trying to calm myself. His sexist remark annoyed me. It wasn’t my fault I was female, and he certainly wasn’t making life any easier for me. Miguel was my younger brother, who rarely did anything productive. All he knew was how to change girls like outfits and lavishly spend money. Yet, somehow, he was always favored by our father. “You know I deserve this father, you do. Why does it matter if I am a woman? What is so embarrassing about that?”

"Listen, Gianna, your opinion means nothing here. Your brother is the clear choice for the position—he's a real man, not some weak, emotional woman like you. You can try to pretend to be strong, but at the end of the day, you're just a fragile little girl playing dress-up. Don't expect any special treatment from me just because you're my daughter. Your brother is the future of this family, not you." He spat our coldly.

I nodded, understanding just how cruel and hurtful my father could be in his decisions. With that, I turned on my heel, storming out of his study and closing the door with a loud bang. I knew I could get in trouble later for that, but I didn't care; I was far too angry to worry about the implications of my actions.

I got into my car and drove straight to Mike’s place. He was my fiancé, the man I was supposed to marry in the coming months. Whenever my father frustrated me like this, I always found some kind of comfort with him.

I pulled my car over, finally arriving at his house. I took a deep breath, got out of the car, and walked to the door. I pressed the doorbell, tapping my feet gently on the ground while waiting for a response from him. There was none, which made me impatient, so I pressed it again.

In a few seconds, the door opened, and I saw Mike, smiling at me. He stepped outside, closing the door behind him as if preventing me from coming in. He looked nervous. I arched my brow in confusion. “Gianna, you didn’t tell me you were coming today.”

I looked at him, trying to figure out if he was okay. I always dropped by whenever I wanted, and he never had a problem with it before. “Look, baby, you have no idea how stressed I am,” I said, kissing him gently on the lips before walking past him into the building. I let out a sigh, settling into the couch. “My father is a monster.”

“I understand, Gianna, but you need to leave, please,” he said, his tone almost pleading. It was then I noticed his behavior. He appeared nervous and scared, sweat rolling down his forehead as he gulped. What is wrong with him?

“What do you mean to leave? I just got here. Didn’t you hear what I was saying about my father?”

“Yes, I heard, but I have plans to travel now,” he said nervously, glancing up the stairs repeatedly. I looked up the stairs too, prompted by his behavior, but saw nothing.

“You never mentioned to me that you would be traveling. What do you mean?” My eyes traveled up and down his uneasy frame, and it was then I began to realize something was wrong. I really hoped it wasn’t what I was thinking. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Just as he was about to speak, I heard a woman's voice from upstairs. The sound of her heels clanged against the stairs as she said, “Hey, honey, what are you doing down there?”

The look on Mike's face was like he had seen a ghost. I immediately sprang to my feet and turned to see who it was. The girl and I made eye contact, both confused, before we stared at Mike, expecting an answer.