CELINE'S REVENGE

Celine's pov

My gloves slammed into the flesh of the man in front of me, then I landed another clean hit to his face which made him stumble backward, breath wheezing through his teeth, but still I didn't stop.

"Again". I snapped.

His eyes widened, but instantly he raised his arms. Smart, at least he knew better than to challenge me twice.

I launched another combination; jab, cross, and hook. My fists connected with dull thuds against the pads, I felt the pain blooming in my knuckles. Yes, pain was expected but weakness wasn't.

From the sidelines, Damien's voice carried over.

"You're going to kill the poor guy."

I didn't even look at him. "He'll live."

"Unlike people who underestimate you". He added with a smirk and tossed me a towel.

I caught it, wiping the sweat from my brow before turning toward him. Damien Ross, my best friend, though he's more like a brother. He had been in my life ever since his father, Lucas Ross, died in a raid. Damien's father and my father, Marco, had been inseparable until Lucas' death, a subject I was forbidden to ask about, just like I was forbidden to ask about my mother, Elara.

I recall the first time I asked my father about my mum, I was much younger, his reaction was weird and strange, a normal father would emotionally open up to his child but that was far from my father, maybe because he wasn't a normal man.

He shut me up and told me never to ask such a question ever again w,hich I agreed to b,ut not for ever.

My father, Marco, was the ruthless Mafia lord of the Moretti Empire, a criminal organization entrenched in underground dealings, including the trafficking of illegal weapons and other contraband.

"You know." Damien said, walking beside me as I stepped off the mat, "most mafia princesses would be picking out ball gowns right now, not breaking noses."

"I don't do ball gowns." I muttered. "I do strategy."

He chuckled. "That's my girl."

"Silly you." I exhaled, as I draped the towel around my neck.

"You are improving, and I know you'll do just fine." Damien said, but my gaze had shifted to the manor house. I could feel someone inside, no doubt it was my father.

Damien followed my line of sight to the manor, behind those walls, business was being conducted, business I was never allowed to touch.

"The Dalis have brought another deal?." I asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded. "Yes, it's them."

They were closing one of the largest arms trades in our gang's history, and yet again, I wasn't even given the courtesy of a briefing. Another reminder that no matter how hard I trained or how sharp I became, I was still the little girl Marco Moretti kept in a gilded cage.

"They think I'm not ready." I murmured, bitterness in my voice.

Damien didn't deny it. "You know your father, he's trying to protect you."

I scoffed. "He's trying to control me."

"Maybe," Damien said with a sigh, "but you know how dangerous this business is. Besides, he already lost your mother, Elara. You're all he's got left."

At the mention of her name, my jaw clenched. I was on him in an instant, gripping his shirt roughly. "Don't," I warned.

"Please... please." he choked.

"You and I know nothing about her or her death, I won't watch anyone speak about her that way, not even you." I warned again before releasing my grip.

I watched as he gasped for air.

"How are you so fast? I didn't even see you move until you grabbed me, like I owed you money and refused to pay it back."

"I don't know. Was I really that fast? Like a werewolf?." I teased, though I was serious.

I had a full blown obsession with werewolves and wished I was one. Damien didn't believe they truly existed, but I knew they did.

"Huh? You're bringing fiction into this again? I've told you countless times..."

"Werewolves don't exist." I cut in, finishing his sentence with him, though mine dripped with sarcasm.

We often argued about it, he claimed they weren't real, and I insisted they were. I hadn't seen one with my own eyes, but I've ra ead lot of books about them and believe in them completely. Their speed, their strength...it was fascinating.

"I've told you they exist. It's not just fiction, it's reality". I objected.

"I see your obsession with werewolves grows every day, but I have nothing else to say. Keep dreaming". Damien said.

"I'm serious. One day, I'll see one; touch its fur, stare into its eyes, and watch it shift back into human form." I said. Damien burst into laughter.

My eyes darted toward a black SUV pulling out of the gates.

"Is that for the deal?." I asked quietly.

"Probably." He said with a shrug.

Shiver ran down my spinet, I'd never trusted the Dalis. Even though they had been doing business with my father since before I was born, something about this particular deal felt wrong. The fact that my father shut me out completely only made my instincts scream louder.

"I need you to cover for me." I said.

Damien blinked. "Come again?."

"I'm going after them. I want to see what's really going on."

He stepped in front of me, brows drawn. "Celine, don't be stupid. You don't even know where they're going."

"I have a pretty good guess. Either the docks or Blackridge warehouse, we've used both before."

"Your father will skin you alive."

"He won't find out." I met his gaze. "Unless you tell him."

He looked torn. His loyalty was always to me, but he wasn't blind to the recklessness of my plan. Still, he wasn't foolish enough to try stopping me.

After a long pause, he exhaled. "Fine. I'll stall the guards. But if something feels off..."

"I know. Run." I cut in.

His jaw tightened. "Promise me."

"I promise."

I didn't tell him the full truth; I had no intention of running. If the Dalis tried anything, I'd handle it. This was my chance to prove I wasn't just my father's daughter but a leader in my own right.

And if I had to burn everything down to be heard, so be it. I'd do whatever it took to make my father see the Dalis from my perspective.