Responsibility
Oh, how Maria hated that word.
She hated being responsible for anything; she always seemed to mess things up. For example, on her eleventh birthday, her mother gave her a cat, who died three days later because she forgot to feed him. Now look, she was supposed to lead an entire empire? Hundreds of men, shipments of drugs and ammunition, business deals, the hotels and restaurants that were now under her name.
She felt faint.
Maria knew she couldn't give up now, not yet. If Maria did, then she'd be proving the whole world right. She'd prove that women are truly weak, and she'd be damned if she let that happen.
She had been staring at her feet with all these thoughts running through her mind. She hadn't noticed Lorenzo's presence until he squatted between her legs and grabbed her face.
"You'll get old quickly if you keep doing that," He started making Maria push her bottom lip forward, a line forming between her brows as she asked,
