Pull the Trigger | ✓

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Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my nerves down. I needed to get in there, no matter what it took, even if it killed me. I pulled a black hoodie I had been wearing over my head as I glanced over at one of the black-suited men who nodded before opening the doors for me. Flashes of cameras invaded my vision and it took all of me to not grab them, throw them to the ground and step on it as the questions began. Keeping my head down the entire way, the black-suited men caged me, nudging their way through the paparazzi as I chewed on my lip, my heart beat racing.

"Miss Moretti, is it true that your father is stepping down as CEO?" one asked.

"Astoria, how does your father feel about letting you run the company in his place?" Another one asked.

"Astoria, is it true your father is involved with illegal activities?" I clenched my jaw at that one.

The questions kept attacking me, waiting for me to answer before I was flung inside the luxurious building, the black-suited men standing as a wall behind me. I turned my head from side to side, hearing the bones crack in satisfaction as I slowly took off my hoodie and passed it on to the security guard of the building.

I straightened out my beige coat and my dirty blonde hair before flipping it behind my shoulder. I glanced around the foyer where the staff gave me a nod of acknowledgement before getting on with their day.

My name was Astoria Mia Moretti and I was heiress to my father's company, Moretti Industries and future leader of the Moretti gang in the underground world.

Smirking, I slipped my hands into my pockets before strutting towards the elevator doors, growing impatient as the minute goes by. Why did elevators take so long in these kind of buildings?

When the elevator announced its presence with a ding, the employees waited for me to step in first as I cleared my throat and made my way inside, sticking to the very back before people began to pile in.

"Which floor, Miss Moretti?" a person asked, looking at me expectantly.

"Forty," I answered with ease as I watched the person nod before pushing the button to the highest floor in the building. Taking out and tapping away on my phone, checking the latest gossip and emails entertained me while people piled in and out of the elevator until I was the only one inside when I reached my father's office.

Passing his secretary -which happened to be a male because my mother didn't allow female secretaries due to movies and rumours- I knocked four times on the large, brown oak wooden doors, waiting for them to open. I glanced over at my father's secretary who was only in his late twenties, his raven black hair dishevelled as he answered calls and scheduled meetings. I sighed when my father opened his doors, giving me a double take as if he hadn't been expecting me.

I kissed my father on the cheek with a tight smile. "Oh, padre, don't act so surprised. You called for a meeting, yes?"

As if hitting his head and his memories returned, my father's blue eyes -the ones I inherited- lit up. "Oh, mia figlia, I apologise for forgetting. Work has been...stressful."
[mia figlia = my daughter]

I raised a brow and waved it off as I took a seat on one of his beige arm chairs that were situated in front of his desk. "What did you want to talk about?"

Indeed, my father had pulled me out of my shopping spree, informing me that I needed to be at his office within half an hour because he had something to discuss. I had asked him to discuss it with me over the phone but he had only said that it was better if we had done it in person.

My father had taken his seat behind his desk and I admired the fact that despite his age -forty-five year's old- he never seemed to age past twenty-eight. His dirty blonde hair was sleeked back professionally and the faint wrinkles etched into his forehead from the stress of both his business. He was fit, his biceps defined by his right-fitted suit from all the trainings when he was younger and more capable.

He cleared his throat as he adjusted his black bow-tie uncomfortably. "Mia, as a twenty-three year old, you have duties to uphold and a legacy to claim, you remember that, right?" My parents were the only people who used my middle name.

I bit my lip, trying to keep my eyes from rolling. Despite my love for fashion and makeup, my father had instilled many talents into me when I was just a child. By the age of five, I had trained with his men in the gang and learnt how to do business in the underground world by the age of fourteen. During those times, my mother had given me adequate classes of being a lady and what to do and what to not do. Growing up, my father treated me like a son and yes, drilling in the fact that crying was not an emotion that I was allowed and my mother treated me like a daughter -as I should be- adorning me with jewellery and fancy clothings. "Of course father, you've been reminding me since the day I was born."

He inhales a sharp breath and gives me a small, strained smile which I raised an eyebrow to. Something in my stomach gnawed, telling me that this meeting was going to be one of my problems. "Since you're a female and you know, males run the game in the Mafia, you are likely to be hunted and vulnerable and all..."

I deepened my frown. "Uh huh..."

My father continued, nevertheless. "I figured that a secure alliance would keep you off the radar for a period of time and I talked with the Bellucci family..."

Please, in the name of all gods and angels above, don't let this be what I think it was going to be.

"...you are to wed Noah Bellucci. I'm sure you've heard of him."

My eye twitched and the anger boiled in my blood. It wasn't the fact that I had to marry Noah Bellucci -actually, just a little bit- but it was also the fact that my father did not have faith that I could run the underground family myself. I knew how things worked and tactics I could use...my father had taught me for many, many years. "Padre, you can't possibly be serious. I'm twenty-three, I've learnt all the things you've taught me and I can run the family myself. I've already gained their respect and loyalty."

My father shook his head, his eyes fluttering shut. "You don't understand, Mia. It's too risky and besides, it'll be good for the company too."

My eyebrows shot so far up my forehead, I was sure I didn't have eyebrows anymore. "You want to merge the company?"

My father simply nodded. "Noah is a professional in both worlds, as you know, ranked one in each of them. The company will be gaining millions -even billions- and families in the Mafia won't even consider touching you because you have the Bellucci as your back-up."

I scoffed, wanting to pull my hair in frustration. "Questo è pazzesco! I can handle them myself. I can handle this business and the family, father. I can do it."
[Questo è pazzesco = This is crazy]

My father's frown deepened as he stood from his chair as if to prove he had more authority and power of me. His blue eyes glared at me as if it sealed my lips shut. "There is no room for argument, Mia. You are to do as you are told."

I clenched my jaw, ready to punch something. Anything. "Why are you doing this?"

My father breathed a sigh. "You are my only daughter, Mia. I will not risk losing you and yes, I didn't want to introduce you to the other world but you are a Moretti. Your safety means the world to your mother and I and we will not risk your safety for anything in the world. The other families in the Mafia will have your head literally served on a silver platter. I have made enemies during my time and they will get you."

I opened my mouth to say something but my father cut me right off.

"Yes, you're strong, Mia, no doubt," my father spoke, straightening his suit jacket. "But those families have run the business more than you have and you haven't even started yet. It is done. I've talked to Cain, Noah's father, and we must honour the deal."

I huff a response, knowing that I wasn't going to get my way. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling a headache coming on as I began to rub my temples. "When do I meet this Noah?"

A small smile played on my fatner's lips as he rounded the table and kissed my temples softly. "Tonight. You're to meet him at Bellucci's restaurant at 7:30pm. Don't be late, Mia."

If there was one thing about me, I hated being late.