Veronica's pov:

"We're going to Venezuela, " said my father, hanging up the phone.

"What happened?" my older brother, Mario asked. The wrinkles on his forehead are clearly visible.

" Leonardo Garcia is dead."He said, pinching the edge of his nose. "Eighteen of his men died too."

I exchanged a look with my mother. She always looks so scared and so worried. I knew what they were advancing, that the war between the Mafia and the Camorra was intensifying, but I would never have thought that the Capo of the Venezuela outfit would die. I didn't expect to hear these words. Leonardo held a lot of power in the mafia.He sounded like an unstoppable force and was highly respected in the mafia.He seemed invincible.This shows how naive I am. My two older brothers are Made Men. Mario is my father's heir, he will be the next Capo of the Santa Barbara mafia.I was brought into this world,into this life.My dad really put in effort to keep me away from the darker side of his life.

While it might seem like living in a mansion,having a ton of money,and being part of a powerful family is perfect,it's not always the case.Especially when you are the daughter of a Capo.The luxury and power come with a price, and often, that price is freedom. I just have one friend who also shares this type of life. I graduated last year from a private Catholic high school for girls.In line with tradition,my virtue is something that must be fiercely guarded.Without an escort, no man or boy is permitted to come near me.

Father has promised me to move away to get the best political advantage.That's what I heard him say once.

I am happy, at nineteen, that I have not yet been promised to anyone. Father told me about the possibility of letting me go to university. That's all I've always wanted, to graduate in art history and maybe work one day in a museum. The Metropolitan would be the position I dream of the most.

"Go ahead, pack your bags!" my father told us.

Mario, Manuel and I go upstairs, take the corridor and go to our respective rooms to pack our bags. I grab my black dress, modest unlike the cocktail dresses I wear for social evenings. I have always loved Venezuela, I only went there a handful of times when Father took us there for meetings or business. Although I was not allowed to leave the penthouse we own there, we have a breathtaking view. I dream of walking the streets and going to museums where I will meet my great love. We will both admire a painting of...

"Prepare beautiful dresses",said my mother from the doorstep. It looks like she cried, her eyes injected with sorrow. My father had to yell at her again.

"I took my black dress. How long do we stay so that I know how many clothes I have to take?"

"I'm not talking about your black dress, bring some of your most beautiful dresses."

"Why? We're going to a funeral." I frowned.

"We will attend social meetings there…"

"Don't ask your mother questions. Bring the red dress and another",said my father with a distracted look.

"Be ready in twenty minutes, we're flying tonight." He disappears in the hallway and in my brother's room, on the other side of the hallway.

On our private plane, I sit next to Manuel while Mario talks about business with Father and Mother sleeps. Manuel looks nervous, he shakes his leg and fiddles his thumbs. Manuel has always been the most handsome brother, the girls in my class have always been excited in front of him. Even if it was a school reserved for girls, they had more freedom than me. The girls in my class went to parties and that's where they saw Manuel. Unfortunately, I have heard a lot of crunchy stories that a sister should not hear about her brother.

Manuel, like me, has golden blond hair and blue eyes. His tanned skin, white teeth and large size make all girls salivate. Mario on the other hand, with his brown hair and brown eyes, is handsome, but his cold features frighten everyone. He became a man at thirteen, Manuel a man at fifteen.

What a disappointment for my father, but all he could say was to thank God that Manuel was not his heir. He is the spare part, and Manuel has always been angry to be considered as such.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

"Do you know what the death of Leonardo and his best men means?"

I shake my head.

"This means that Venezuela is weak at the moment. They will need soldiers because the Belgians will surely strike again. After the funeral, some of Father's men will stay to help them fight."

"And you, you stay?" I'm looking for his eyes that are now looking out the window of the plane. His jaw is tightening.

"Yes. I stay to fight."

Manuel doesn't desire this part,I can see it in his eyes.He will pretend to be the cold murderer that father expects from him,but just like me,yearning for a different life outside of this crime-filled existence.

I cross my arms on my chest while rubbing my arms because of the cold I feel in the air conditioning of the plane. My breasts are not small, but they are not big either, I have always liked their average appearance. The only thing that bothers me is my silhouette. I feel like a stick, I have no hips, no buttocks, not to mention my small size.Just over a meter and a half. I make up for this with my thick and wavy blond hair that cascades on my shoulders, the length stopping near my navel. I've always been proud of my eyes, it's my secret weapon. Bright blue eyes with long dark lashes that look even longer with mascara. Freckles are sometimes scattered on my nose and cheeks. Though I've never really liked them,Gia, my best friend, always raved about how much she adored them.She believed it enhanced my cuteness,but being cute isn't what am striving for.I crave to be called sexy beautiful,sexy and incredible.I'm at the age of nineteen,I don't need to be labeled cute like a youngster. I want more than anything that I am not taken for a young girl, I am a woman.