Dressed in a loose shirt with black slacks, I made my way downstairs. I walked into the kitchen where our cook, Nico, was finishing up his signature french toast with fruit plate. Having so many men on the grounds meant that a cook was needed. Nico was far from just a cook though. He was a contract killer before my father employed him as my mother’s personal bodyguard. He was her guard when she was at home. Six foot tall with tattoos covering his arms, one a full sleeve and the other just his forearm, he was a scary man. Nico was hired by my father the year I turned fifteen. I was infatuated by his looks at that age. We had only met a handful of times over the years, but he treated my mother like his own.

“Boss, sorry about your parents,” was all that passed between us. One sentence from him and a nod of my head in understanding was all it took. Sitting down to eat breakfast, I mentally planned my day. I needed to look into my parent’s accident some more, review our delivery schedule for the next few weeks, and find out what Tony was here for. Roman entered the room clutching a rolled-up newspaper heading straight for me.

“Morning Boss, we have a problem,” placing the newspaper next to me, he explained further.

“A man was found dead near the river this morning. Our contact at the department thinks he’s from the Italian family.”

Looking over at the photo of the crime scene in the paper, I fought back a gasp.

“Do we know why someone from the Italian family would even be in our territory? Has their underboss informed us of any meeting his boss would like?” I asked while panicking inside.

This was not good. Not only had I killed someone last night but he was from another family. Way to go Rosalina, when you do bad you do it well.

“No, we haven’t heard anything. Should I contact to find out if their man was here?” Roman questioned.

“No, leave it. If he was one of theirs they will call us soon anyway. Until then, find out what you can and get back to me,” I ordered. Picking up my fork, I finished my breakfast and walked to my office.

Just outside of my office stood none other than Anthony De Los Santos. Perfect. We had things to discuss anyway.

“Anthony,” I said by way of greeting.

With a smirk he replied, “Good morning ma’am. I love it when you call me Tony instead of Anthony. No need to be so formal.”

Turning the knob, I entered my office and motioned for him to join me. “Sit down Anthony.” Taking my place, at my desk I looked to him.

“Well what did your father say? Will you be leaving with your tail between your legs now?”

Chuckling to himself he just looked at me. His lips formed a shit-eating-grin. “Not at all Rosalina. In fact, I’m here to offer up myself as a husband from what my father says.”

What? He had to be joking. Bursting out in laughter I responded with, “Not a chance in hell. I don’t need a husband. And I don’t think that Roman plays that way. You could ask him, but I think he would shoot you.”

“Rosalina, look, here’s the thing. No man is going to take you seriously. Look at yourself. You don’t belong in power, you belong next to the man in charge. I mean no disrespect, but you are gorgeous and that doesn’t make men want to follow your lead,” Tony stated.

Taking a calming breath, I turned to him with a cold look. “Listen Anthony, and listen good because I won’t say this again nicely. I am not a piece of ass to be on a man’s arm. I am Rosalina Maria Velasquez. I have been groomed for this position for years. I’m not going to hand it over to the first man to offer up some dick. Now get the fuck out of my office.”

As soon as the door closed behind Tony I let out a frustrated growl and poured myself a glass of tequila. This was not happening. I can’t believe he seriously walked into my home and told me I needed a man. That was such egotistical, male, bullshit. A knock sounded at the door. Great just great. He better hope he hadn’t come back.

“Entrar,” I called out throwing the rest of the drink back. Woah, my father certainly had the good stuff.

Roman walked into the room looking worried.

“Sientate, Roman,” I indicated the chair Anthony had just occupied.

With a sigh Roman began speaking, “Boss, the Italians just called. It was one of their men. They want to know what we are going to do about it. What should I tell them?”

Closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair I said, “Tell them we will do nothing. They did not make us aware that they had even sent someone here. Apparently, he was doing something in alley that he shouldn’t have been. Next time they will tell us if they want our help.” Roman just nodded his head and began to walk out the door.

Ugh. Could this day get any worse? I probably didn’t need to ask that, but first the bomb Anthony dropped, and now this. Diving back into shipment plans, I closed myself off from everyone for the rest of the day.