1 Chapter One

ARIA:

I sat by myself in the café, sipping coffee and suddenly, I felt a presence around me. All my life,I had felt it;an eye, an ethereal presence watching me.

It almost felt like an invisible force, a supernatural being of some sort. Sometimes, I would turn around in apprehension but would find no one there aside from my usual security team;courtesy of my father's reputation.

Ever since I could toddle, I had never been without bodyguards and earlier when I had been a kid, it used to be fun, feeling untouchable and safe behind the human wall of muscled men.

However, the excitement of the unusual privilege had vanished when I grew into a teenager and it turned to an uncomfortable compulsion.

Young people of my age would sneak out to attend parties, to get drunk or wasted, making friends as they wanted but I wasn't even given the latitude to rebel or experience teenage life like my peers.

Being the only daughter amid the five offsprings of the most feared mafia Don in New Mexico,Rafael Havier-Rodriguez, did come with a lot of hassles as I had lived my entire life,enclosed like a puppy locked up in a cage.

It was said that although each of my brothers belonged to a different mistress of my father, my mother had been the love of his life.

Unfortunately, I had never had the chance to meet her because she had died while giving birth to me and her last wish which she had whispered in his ear with her dying breath was:

"Keep my bambina safe, diablo." Devil, it meant, my father's alias.

She had died from excessive internal bleeding,and haemorrhage which our family doctors had not detected early enough. They had done all they could but eventually lost her.

Rabid with heated rage, my father had gone on a bloody rampage as he hunted down every medical staff on duty that fateful day and on the verge of his vengeance mission, lives had been lost. Including innocent people just going about their businesses.

All had been indiscriminatedly gunned down, leaving the hospital littered with a pile of bodies.

The story had been carried across all news broadcasting channels of the world and due investigation had begun to apprehend the perpetuators.

However, no one could pin it on Father because there had been no concrete evidence presented to back up any accusations against him.

Shortly after his interrogation, he was a free man again. The fatal event had stunned the world, darkening the day of my birthday for good.

I was constantly reminded of how important my life was, much more than mindless frivolities and I had eventually bought into the idea, allowing myself to be sheltered from the world entirely.

My only friends were Candy, my white Alsatian dog and my Apple laptop. Since I was only partly related to my brothers, they hardly wanted anything to do with me, only showing up at formal events and important family dinners.

Father led his family the same way he handled his business: with an iron-clad fist of justice. There was no room for sentiments, mistakes and worse of all, incompetence. His business came first in everything, anything else falling sadly second.

My half-brothers,Gerald, Nikolai, Giovanni and Lukas had all been sent away from home on several assignments by our father once they had all clocked twenty-one years of age.

As babies, they had been handed over to our father by the midwives, depriving them from maternal care as young infants.

At least my mother had been unavoidably taken away but their mothers were also forbidden to ever visit them or seek custody of them.

Nurses had been hired to take care of them and that was it. Otherwise, my father never cared to establish a parental relationship with any of his sons. He merely saw them as soldiers, an addition to his ever-growing army. They were only relevant for underground work in places where he could not reach at the same time.

The New Mexico Mafia was built on the shoulders of the four founding families- the Morello's, Javier's, Bonucci's and the Rodriguez's.

The ruling head was dutifully rotated amongst the four families, usually the first born son being the boss. However, when the crown came to the doorsteps of the Javiers, something happened that had never occured in over thirty years- the first born child had been a female child. This had resulted in a conflict, no one wanting to be led by a woman.

"Women are chiefly meant for increasing our numbers," they argued, "not for spearheading serious affairs as overseeing of the Mafia"

When Diane Javier had turned thirteen, it was decided that she was to marry Camaro Bonucci, the first son of the next succeeding family in line.

Unknown to the rest of the clan, Diane had no desire to wed Camaro because she was heads over heels in love with Manuel Rodriguez, my grandfather. She had gone to him in her distress, weeping her heart out. Diane was a delectable young woman, sure to turn the heads of men as she went and Manuel was definitely not built of stone.

Diane was generously created with supple curves to overfill a man's palms, full lips with a cleft denting the middle of her lower lip and an ample burst,a man could get lost in.

Manuel had been seduced by her sinful body and had lost himself in the pleasure between her legs. Two months later, Diane was discovered to be with child and she had not delayed to point out Manuel as the rightful father of her child.

Camaro had felt denied, contesting that the convenient situation had been the plot of the Rodriguez's all along.

However,he could not prove it though, rendering his argument potentless and thus, his pleas have gone unattended to.

The deed was already done and Diane was wedded to Manuel who was not happy to have been manipulated into a marriage he was not ready for and by a woman.

When my father had been a little boy, his father had taught him to never fall for the cunning wiles of a woman and he, fond of his father, took his words as gospel, hence his temporary interest in women.

My father must have decided to input all his energy into the running of the mafia as strictly as he could. If anything was to befall him, he was rest assured that he had four capable sons to take over from him.

I sipped my coffee again from my paper cup, my reminiscence over. I was at my favorite coffee place, Twirl In A Cup,as usual.

Staring out the window, I could see the security team of bodyguards leaning against their cars, waiting for me to finish up my beverage.

I had long forbidden them from coming in with me because it was embarrassing and I was currently on a summer break from people bugging me.

Being the model that I am,I knew all about crowds and how they could get.

Dropping the cup hard on the table, I checked the time: it was just 9:34am. "Shit!" I cursed in frustration, after all this time? I was in no hurry to go home to my usual loneliness but I knew that there was very little I could do about it.

Sighing heartfeltly, I signaled for a waitress. The young woman ambled to my aid with a big bouquet of red roses in her grasp.

They were pretty and were natural, unlike the artificial ones arranged daily in my room by Carol, my personal attendant.

"Nice flowers," I commented, putting on my black shades to avoid eye contact, a rule hammered into my memory after several countless reminders.

"Thank you, miss but they are not mine. They are for you," the waitress dropped the bomb. I almost lowered the glasses in shock.

Me? Strange.

I looked sideways at the other customers in the coffee shop but there were only a few people left, mostly elderly people.

"Are you sure they are for me?" I asked, still in doubt. My eyes kept darting around in suspicion, my sense of security heightened.

"Yes, miss. He pointed at you and described you as well so that I would not give it to the wrong person. It's for you, miss," Jessy, the waitress offered the bouquets, bending slightly.

Still on my guard, I received the roses from the amiable waitress who went back to her duty post.

"Thanks, Jess, for the flowers," I intoned, getting on my feet and walking towards the door. The men outside had waited long enough.

"Wait, miss! I'm sorry," Jessy suddenly apologized, running after me. I halted, clutching the flowers tightly, unwilling to give them back in case it had been a case of mistaken identity.

"I'm so sorry. The man asked me to give you this too," she retrieved a scented card from the front pockets of her apron and offered it to me.

It was lavender in color, a shy shade of purple and its inviting scent was pleasant. I took the card too and allowed Jessy to leave.

Eager to know the innermost thoughts of the unknown man, I undid the little knot,enclosing it gently, refusing to wreck the pretty little gift.

It wasn't signed, just a message,sprawled across the thin dotted line on the right hand side of the card;

"My eyes are forever on you, my distant beauty"