Princess of the Mafia: Princess of the Mafia, #1

By Madison Getchell

Her father had a plan for her life. God had another.

 

Lily De Luca is just like every other freshly graduated college student looking for her place in the world and trying to find a job. That is, if her father doesn't have his way by making her join his business—which isn't exactly legitimate. Her family just so happens to be in the Mafia and run a powerful organization in New York City. And even though Lily isn't keen on joining the business, her dad isn't very good at taking no for an answer.

 

And then, she meets and falls for Alex. He's a handsome and sweet, true-blue gentleman with just one, little quirk:

He works for the FBI.

 

Hiding her true identity from him, Lily begins a juggling act of working for her father while attempting to make her relationship with Alex work. But life seems to have a way of complicating everything…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Madison Getchell
• Release date: Mar 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201659981

Madison Getchell

Madison Getchell is an American author, wife, and mother. Any given day, you can find her writing, daydreaming, eating chocolate, or watching Audrey Hepburn movies. Maybe all at once. She discovered her love for writing when she was quite young and hasn’t stopped writing since. For her, writing is more than a hobby—it’s her passion, and she believes it was put on her heart for a grand purpose. She currently lives in Montana with her husband and two children, and she is continually drawing inspiration from their wonderful life together.

Book preview

Chapter 1

My friend, Hayley, held up her wine in a toast. Ladies, we made it. Here’s to graduating and to the official start of our lives.

I held up my wine along with the other four girls at the table. We were all at a local restaurant in New Haven, Connecticut after finishing our final semester at Yale. We had seen each other through every season these last two years as the four of us strived to graduate with a master’s in business. And through our time in graduate school, we had formed a friendship as we helped each other make it through the long nights and horrendous thesis papers, but we were finally done.

"Uh, I don’t know what you ladies have been doing these last two years, but I’ve been living my life," Carly objected.

Yeah, puking into a toilet, Bree spoke in disdain, and Carly just shrugged.

Well, this is where my social life dies. The second I get home, my dad’s making me his little, corporate robot, Erin then stated unhappily.

Oh my gosh, don’t even get me started on my mom, Morgan groaned. She is making me her personal accountant. I’m like, ‘Mom, I didn’t just get my MBA at Yale to be your accountant for your restaurant.’

Ugh. Families, Erin rolled her eyes.

I had been sitting silently while they all complained, but I decided not to chime in until Hayley looked to me.

What about you, Lily? she asked me, forcing me to contribute to this conversation.

Uh, same. Going home to my dad’s business, I answered simply.

Someone in this group seriously needs to tell off their family and be brave enough to go and make their own way, Carly stated.

Yeah...I didn’t comment back to that. Because while all my graduate friends were going home to their corporate and small family businesses, my family’s business was a little...how did I put this? Different. Sure, my family operated a successful conglomerate in New York City, but well, it wasn’t exactly legitimate.

You see, my family is in the Mafia. My dad, Matteo De Luca, in all his glory, is the don, and he runs a very powerful and affluent organized crime operation in and around the New York City area. The Mafia was in my blood. My great-grandfather had come over from Italy, saw an opportunity in America, and began selling bootlegged alcohol. He made himself out of nothing and began to run those around him.

Fast forward a few decades, and our family name is still going strong. Of course, instead of bootlegged alcohol, the wealth comes from running drugs and guns. I had grown up with the concept being normal, but my dad had always sheltered me from most of his illegal dealings. I was able to live the good life without any of the hardships of being a mafioso.

But I couldn’t tell any of my college buddies any of this. No one knew, in fact. It was one of the rules of the Mafia. No one was to be told. It was a family secret, one only to be shared within the confines of the business. It made letting people close difficult, but I guess I’d always been good at pushing them away anyway. Even the people who thought they knew me didn’t truly know me, and this group of friends would be no different.

A little after ten, I left the restaurant, going back to my place to finish packing up my things for my trek back to New York in the morning. With traffic, I could make it home in two and a half hours, but it had been far enough away where I could find myself as my own person and not just as a De Luca.

Still, my family name was not one I could shake. When I returned to my Long Island home, I’d be returning to everything that had been so simple to escape in college. It wasn’t all bad, don’t get me wrong. But there were days my family could be a little suffocating. It had been nice to see them during the holiday breaks with the ability to leave afterwards. This time, I’d be going back for real, but at least this time, I was able to assert a certain level of independence. Or, at least, try.

The next morning, I threw the remainder of my luggage into my packed BMW and then started my ninety-mile trek south to my family home. My father’s home was in Brookville, a predominately upper-class neighborhood on Long Island. His estate was a mansion nestled privately on a couple acre lot. It had always been the perfect place for him to conduct his private meetings or to escape it all if necessary. Plus, it was impossible for the Feds to stake out our home without it being obvious because they’d have to get through a gate at the start of the driveway.

When I reached my family home, I punched in the code for the gate. It opened so I was able to enter the curved driveway. It wasn’t long before I was met by the mansion itself. It was a beautiful, stone home with big windows and turrets, if you believe it. It was my father’s personal fortress.

My car wasn’t the first to be parked in front of the house. The usual suspects were there. Sergio, my father’s advisor, was always there. But my older, step-brother, Bernardino, who refused to be called anything except Dean, basically still lived here. My dad had placed the burden of responsibilities on him seeing as he was my father’s only son from his only marriage of twenty years. Dean was eleven years older than I was and was the underboss to my father. One day, he would take over the family business, and his whole life was about being primed for that role.

Leaving all my things in my car, I walked into the foyer. Hello!? I called into the large space as I made my way to the living area.

Dean appeared and gave me a big smile. Hey! he greeted me before he approached me and threw his arms around me. How’s the graduate? he asked as he pulled away to look at me.

Happy to be done, I told him honestly as I looked up to him. He was a lean, yet muscular, man with the quintessential olive skin tone and brown eyes from our Italian heritage.

I’ll bet. Took you long enough to graduate, he teased me as he led me into the kitchen.

Well, we couldn’t all be Dean De Lucas. He had graduated in five years with a degree and certification in Business Law. Everything he did was to gain my father’s approval. I wasn’t sure why he worked so hard for it. My dad either gave it or he didn’t. And if Dean didn’t have it, he’d definitely know it.

The family’s personal chef, Beatrice, was working on lunch for the family, and we stole a few crackers and pieces of cheese from the spread on the island counter. Bea had been our family’s chef since before I could even remember. She had to be in her mid-fifties, but she never seemed to age in my mind.

She shot us both a look for stealing food, but then she gave me a smile. Lily, I’m happy to have another lady around this house again. And a very accomplished one at that. Congratulations on getting your master’s.

I thanked her, but then I turned to Dean. Where’s Daddy? I wondered.

Princess, I heard him greet me from the threshold, and I looked to him. He was a small-statured, full-blooded Italian. He wasn’t fat, but he was a little on the pudgy side, and though he was sixty-seven, he still had a strength about him, a certain air to him that overshadowed his outward appearances.

He held out his arms, and I closed the gap between us to give him a big hug.

It’s so good to have you home, he told me as he gave me a kiss on the head. He was taller than me, but only by a few inches.

It’s good to be home, Daddy, I told him. As much as my family was crazy, I couldn’t imagine living without them.

We took our lunch out on the large, back patio that overlooked the pool and wooded areas that surrounded the estate.

I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to your graduation ceremony, my dad apologized while we ate.

I waved it away. You made it to my first one. I know you’re busy. He had come to my graduation for my undergraduate degree, but when I went for the extra two years to get my master’s, I didn’t expect anyone to make a big deal about it.

He took a sip of his wine. Mm, but a man should never be too busy for his family. Remember that Dino.

My dad was the only one who got away with calling him Dino.

Yes, Pops.

It’ll be so nice to have you back for real this time, Princess, my dad then spoke to me. I missed having you around the house.

It doesn’t seem like much has changed, I noted. Even though I had been gone for six years for college, I’d come home for breaks and holidays. The last time I’d been home was only a few months ago for spring break, but somehow, I felt like my dad was expecting me to morph back into the little girl who used to play with dolls outside his office door.

That reminds me. I have a surprise for you, he then stated. He drank the last bit of his wine and then stood up, expecting me to do the same.

I gave Dean a curious look, and he just gave me a shrug and eye roll in return. The last time my dad said he had a surprise for me, it had turned out to be my BMW, so I was kind of excited to see what he got me this time.

He led me into the house toward where his office was. But instead of leading me into his office, he led me to a closed door across the hall to a room that used to be for storage. He motioned for me to open it, and I turned the handle to find he had converted the room into another office. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to know what he was getting at, and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

I figured now that you are an official woman of business, you need your own space to work, he told me.

I turned to look at him. Daddy, we’ve talked about this. We both agreed I would try to get a legitimate job first. Look, you know that if you ever need anything, you can always ask me, but you already have Dean and Sergio. You don’t really need me, and I actually want to try to start a career with my degree, to find a place where I can grow.

You can grow here. With your family, he argued.

I’m not having this argument with you again. I will always be family, and if you ever need any sound business advice that Sergio or Dean astonishingly can’t supply you, then you know where to find me. But I don’t want to work for you.

You’re breaking my heart, but fine. You can, at least, live here so you don’t have to pay any rent.

Daddy, I groaned. I need my own place. Even Dean has a place in the city, and he practically lives here as it is.

Of course, Dean’s reasoning for having his own place was so he didn’t have to bring women back to his daddy’s house.

My dad gave me a stern look. He’s also not my little girl.

I rolled my eyes. I’m not so little anymore. I’ve been living on my own for six years now, and I can’t go back to living with my father.

He held up his hands in defeat. Alright. Then at least let me set you up in a nice place.

Fine, I allowed. But no penthouses facing Central Park. I don’t want people asking questions. I just want simple.

I can do that, he nodded.

Can you? I replied in doubt.

Sergio came down the hall at that moment. He was a man in his fifties with nicely groomed dark hair and a classic look about him. Mostly because he always insisted on wearing a suit. He had been my father’s advisor for as long as I could remember, and there was no one my dad trusted more.

He gave me a nod. Liliana, it’s so good to have you back.

Thanks, Sergio.

He leaned in to whisper something to my father. My dad gave him a nod and then looked to me.

I need to take care of some business, but we’ll have a nice dinner tonight as a family. No interruptions, he promised me and then kissed the top of my head. He and Sergio went into the office and shut the door, proving to me that nothing had changed at all.

I went back outside to the patio to see if Dean was still out there. He was on the phone with someone and not sounding very happy.

Well, you can tell them that if they raise the price on us again, we’ll be talking to the Moretti family, and I don’t think they’ll be too happy to hear that. We don’t appreciate shady suppliers, and you better believe we won’t sit still and take it, ha capito? he made sure the person understood and hung up as he walked back over to the table.

Does anyone in this family ever take a break? I asked.

We reserve that privilege for you, Princess, he retorted as he sat back down and ate a grape.

I glared at him.

Did you like your surprise? he then asked, his tone suddenly taking on a teasing note.

I sighed and poured myself more wine.

Yeah, I told him you weren’t gonna like it, but does he ever listen to me? he asked rhetorically.

I made a face and took a big sip of my wine as Dean shook his head and laughed once without humor.

I eyed him and set my wine glass back down. What? I wondered, curious as to what he was thinking about.

You know what’s insane to me? he asked me.

I looked to him, waiting for him to tell me.

The fact that, after everything, you are still his favorite.

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right.

It’s true.

Did he say that?

He doesn’t have to, he denied, shaking his head. He’s so soft on you. You can do no wrong in that man’s eyes. You know, the man you know wasn’t always who he was. He’s not the man I grew up knowing. He changed after you were born. And I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but he was so gentle with you. If I did half the things you did as a kid, he brought out his belt, but with you...well, he’d just chuckle and shake his head.

I knew I’d had it easy with Dad. Poor Dean had taken the brunt of Dad’s sternness, but we both knew why.

He was just hard on you because he knew what you were to become, I told him. "He’s entrusting his business to you, Dean. Not me."

Yeah, but it’s more than that. I was his obligation. You...you were his life. You know, I think he loved your mom more after the two years they knew each other than he ever loved my mom after twenty years of marriage.

My mom had been an affair after Dean’s mom had died in a tragic accident. She had a bad fall and died of a blood clot in her brain shortly after. I didn’t know much about my own mom except she was a married woman my dad had fallen in love with about a year after his wife died. They had a passionate affair, but it ended when she got addicted to heroin and overdosed a year after I was born. Dean didn’t have to say it for me to know he resented my mom. And sometimes even me. I guess I couldn’t blame him. He had witnessed a different man raising me, a man I knew he would have loved to have as a father.

Maybe, I allowed to his comment about our moms. But Dean, you are going to be his legacy.

He exhaled. There are some days I’d kill to be in your shoes. You have no responsibilities, just a care-free life. I never had that privilege. It’s always, ‘Dino, do this, sit in on this, talk to this family or that family.’ He groaned. And now it’s, ‘Dino, when are you gonna settle down with a nice girl and continue the De Luca name?’

I smiled. I was kind of wondering about that one myself. You’re not getting any younger you know, I teased him. He was thirty-six, but I doubted he’d ever grow up enough to make a good husband. Do you think you’ll ever settle down and get married? I asked seriously.

He exhaled annoyedly. I don’t know. It’s a little difficult seeing as I’m basically married to this family and its business. Besides, I’m just fine with the way things are now just having fun, not getting serious with any one girl. It’s too much work.

You know, Daddy isn’t going to approve of your plans of just sleeping around and never finding a nice wife to make him grandbabies.

Well, he’s just gonna have to get over it, he replied edgily. "Besides, he’s got no room to talk anyway. He’s had his fair share of whores over the years. I mean, how do you think you came to be?"

I looked away from him, hurt by his words.

He let out a deep breath. Ah, Lily, I’m sorry, he apologized.

I shook it off. It’s okay, I assured him.

"No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have said that. Look, I never had anything against your mom, except for the fact she wasn’t my mom. But that doesn’t give me any right to talk about her that way," he said sincerely.

Hey, I thought I recognized that car out front, a familiar voice spoke from the patio door, and I turned to find the handsome twenty-eight-year-old Alberto leaning against the threshold. He was classically attractive with his squared jaw and toned muscles, and I always thought that he could have been inspiration for one of Michelangelo’s sculptures. But he wasn’t just nice to look at. He was one of my dad’s soldiers. When someone needed offed or roughed up, Alberto was the best man for the job.

Alberto, I acknowledged, not wanting to sound too excited to see him. We’d had our...entanglements throughout the years. He was three years older than I was, but there had always been an undeniable attraction between the two of us, and when I was a teenager, I honestly thought he was the man I’d marry. When I was sixteen, I had lost my virginity to him, and since then, it had been this on-and-off-again thing—all unbeknownst to my father, of course. If he knew about us, Alberto would be a dead man.

Dean was not so clueless.

I’ve got to go take care of some things for Pops, Dean said as he stood up from the table, taking the moment to leave us alone. He popped another grape in his mouth and then gave Alberto a smack on the shoulder as he walked past him to go into the house.

When did you get back? Alberto asked as he approached the table and sat down to mooch off the food that was left.

Today, I let him know.

Lucky me, he smirked as he started eating the leftover grapes. So, I’m guessing you graduated then?

That’s a very astute assumption of yours, Alberto, I responded with sarcasm.

I have my moments.

Do you?

He smiled. You seemed to think so over spring break.

Before a few months ago, I had made a personal pact to not sleep with Alberto anymore. Except, when I came home for spring break, I got a little sloppy with the mixed drinks while we were out together, and of course, he took advantage of the situation. For almost ten years now, if one of us wasn’t in another relationship, we had been each other’s cure for loneliness. Only, my feelings for him weren’t so unattached as his were for me. I had been in love with him once, but over the years, he just became an addiction I couldn’t shake, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to describe my feelings for him now.

I was drunk, Alberto. But last time was the last time, I swore.

You say that every time, he replied, unconvinced.

I mean it this time, I affirmed.

He shrugged, obviously still not believing me. Everyone’s busy right now, and I remember the closet upstairs being fun.

I shook my head. No. You realize my father would kill you if he ever found out we were messing around, right?

I know. That’s why it’s so much fun. I live for the rush.

Well, find another way to get your adrenaline pumping.

No problems there. Your dad has been keeping me busy, he noted.

I refrained from asking why. I had long ago learned to not ask questions because questions always led to a truth I didn’t want to know. It was easier to turn a blind eye to everything. Except, I knew I couldn’t avoid the truths forever. Eventually, the veils were going to fall, and I wasn’t sure what my life was going to look like when they did.

Chapter 2

It took my dad only two days to find me a place and get me approved as the new tenant. The place he had picked was a newer construction apartment tower located in the neighborhood of Greenpoint in Brooklyn right across the East River from Manhattan. I would have easy access to Manhattan or to my father’s house.

Although it wasn’t a penthouse, it sure felt like one. It was situated on one of the top floors of the building so my windows overlooked the Manhattan skyline. I couldn’t lie, sometimes it really paid to be the daughter of a Mafia don.

I decided to take it easy for a few days while I focused on getting my apartment situated the way I liked it. As soon as I had my life organized, I promised myself I’d start looking for a legitimate job. I’d never had one, so I didn’t really know where to start, but I wasn’t worried. Everything seemed to always come naturally to me, or I guess I should say for me. One of the perks of being the daughter of Don De Luca. No one dared to tell me no. Well, unless they had no ties or knowledge of New York’s underworld. Then they thought I was just another trust fund baby.

Still, something had always felt to be missing, and I could never quite place my finger on it. I had everything I wanted, but sometimes I felt so empty I couldn’t even stand myself. And as I ate dinner by myself while overlooking that beautiful Manhattan skyline, I got that feeling again. I wasn’t sure what it was out there I wanted. All I knew was that it wasn’t with me.

The next morning, I decided to occupy my mind by job searching. Except, my dad had gotten me moved in so fast, the internet company hadn’t even gotten a chance to hook up my connection. So, I decided to take the train across the East River to go to what used to be my favorite coffee shop in the Lower East Side of Manhattan in order to use their Wi-Fi and get, what I considered, to be the best coffee in New York City.

I hadn’t been able to sleep well last night—a product of being in a new place, so I made it to the coffee shop by seven-thirty. Of course, at that time, it was insanely busy as people rushing to work tried to get their caffeine fix. Still, I found a small table and set up my stuff so I could begin my job search. I figured it’d take me maybe an hour, and then I’d have the rest of the day to do whatever I wanted.

I ordered my favorite drink, a caramel macchiato, and a pastry to munch on and then sat down to boot up my laptop and enter in the Wi-Fi information. Just as I was loading a job search page, they called my name, and I got up to grab my coffee and pastry. But as I sat down again, I realized I forgot to grab a sleeve and napkin.

Annoyed, I got up to go to the counter to get one amidst the crowd of people. In front of me, there was a man grabbing a sleeve for his coffee to go, but I was impatient because I didn’t want to leave my stuff unwatched for long, so I went to reach around him to quickly grab a few napkins when he turned around and smacked right into me. Which wouldn’t have been that big of a deal had the lid of his coffee cup been on tight.

It wasn’t.

His hot coffee spilled all down the front of his suit and dress shirt.

He let out a cry in surprise and pain at the shock of the spill, and I panicked as I grabbed a handful of napkins.

Oh my goodness, I am so, so sorry, I spoke in a rush as I handed him the fist-full of napkins I had ripped from the dispenser. I finally let my eyes leave the massive stain on his shirt to look to his eyes just as he looked to me.

Not only had I made a stranger spill coffee on himself, but he was a handsome stranger. He was probably only a few years older than I was, and he had dirty blonde hair with nice, blue eyes and a manly jaw that I found really attractive.

Sorry, was the only thing I was able to get out, but it came out more like a whisper.

He blotted the coffee stain to no avail. It’s okay, he said, much to my surprise. I was expecting a full verbal beating. I mean, it was an accident. Or at least, I hope you don’t frequently do this kind of thing as some sort of sick thrill.

I laughed once. No, I assure you this is my first and last episode of scalding someone with hot coffee. Are you okay? I made sure.

Oh yeah, third degree burns are a cake walk. Now, if you had severed one of my limbs, we would have a real problem, he told me jokingly.

Well, in that scenario, I’d just cauterize it with the hot coffee, I joked back.

Good to know. I think I’ll just get iced coffee next time.

Well, as an apology, can I buy you a new cup of coffee? And possibly a new suit? I asked guiltily.

He waved it away as he threw his napkins and basically empty coffee cup in the garbage. It’s alright, really.

I’m not taking no for an answer, I told him.

He smiled. Okay. Yes to the coffee. No to the suit, though. I’m just going to have to rock the coffee-stained look to work today. He motioned to the restrooms. I’m just going to go to the bathroom to see what I can get out.

That came out weird, and he seemed to realize it as he chuckled.

Out of the stain, he finished, and I giggled.

I liked his sense of humor. He was silly and maybe a little awkward, but I found it oddly charming. There was something genuine about him.

He told me what he ordered the first time, and while he went to the bathroom to clean up a little, I went to the counter to reorder his drink. I waited for it at the counter, and when it was finished, I got an idea. He might not let me buy him a suit, but maybe he’d let me buy him dinner. I asked the people behind the counter if I could borrow a marker and then quickly wrote my name and phone number on his drink before I covered it with a sleeve. If it was meant to be, he’d see it. If it wasn’t, then he’d throw it away after drinking it, and I’d never see this handsome stranger again.

When he reappeared from the restrooms, I handed him his coffee.

Thank you, he made sure to tell me. But try not to make any more sudden movements today, huh? he told me.

I smiled and assured him I would try not to. With that, he walked out the front door, and I was left wondering if I should have just told him my name and phone number instead of trying to be playfully clever. Then again, he could have been married, and this would spare me the face-to-face embarrassment, but I hadn’t noticed a ring. All I knew was that he was cute and sweet, and I wouldn’t mind seeing him again.

But for right now, it was time for me to find a job. I scrolled through the limited listings for business analysts, bookkeepers, and marketing managers. None of them seemed that appealing. I guess I had just pictured myself working on Wall Street or as an investment banker of some major company, but all the entry-level jobs seemed so...unfulfilling.

I emailed a few prospects my résumé, but there was a part of me that was hoping they wouldn’t call me. Still, the alternative was what? To work for my father? It wasn’t like I was totally against the idea. It’s just, he didn’t need me, and I wanted to be a part of a place that truly needed me. Having a legal job was obviously not a need in my life, but I truly wanted to be more independent and not always have to rely on my father’s provision.

I finished my job search and then packed up my things, but as I hopped onto the train to head back to Brooklyn, I couldn’t stop thinking about that man in the coffee shop. I hoped he saw my number, but I supposed if he didn’t, then it wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t like I was in a good place to date someone anyway, but I guess that was always my excuse. My family made being in a serious relationship with someone difficult, if not dang near impossible. Because when it came to the point in the relationship where I was ready to meet his parents and he wanted to meet mine, it wasn’t exactly like I could just take the guy to my family home and vaguely explain why my dad was so rich and why he always had an entourage. People weren’t stupid. And as stereotypical as it was, a rich, Italian man who acted like a mafioso in New York was, a lot of the time, actually a mafioso.

So, no, I had never really been in a committed relationship, mostly because my heart had always been hung up on Alberto. So, most of the time, I was just insanely alone. It brought up the question of why I even tried. I guess I was always hoping the next guy I dated would be the one. I hoped that he’d accept me for me, that he’d somehow see past my family’s lifestyle and just see me for who I was without the stigma of the Mafia. But I had yet to find a guy I trusted enough to tell the truth, and I doubted I ever would.

My phone buzzed, and I took it out of my purse to see it was a text from Dean.

Family dinner tonight. 6pm.

As much as my dad was a workaholic, he always made a point to be a father as well. Our family dinners were probably a few of the most normal times I remember growing up in our house. I didn’t realize