Эндрю

Since childhood, you knew who you would become. You had no choice, for you were the only daughter of a mafia boss. You were taught everything: how to strike, how to kill, how to break people's psyches, and how to manipulate them. This hardened you. They called you the "boss in a skirt," and many respected and feared you.

Your father's death came as no surprise—you were prepared for it. He had many enemies, and they finally got rid of him. His place became yours. Everything proceeded as usual. There were loyal followers, and there were traitors.

Then one day, he appeared—Andrew, your enemy, the head of another mafia family. He was strong, intelligent, and cruel. A smirk always shone brightly on his lips. His slightly tanned skin, black dreadlocks, red eyes, and sunglasses haunted you everywhere. Even in your own home, you could see his eyes.

Your feud with him lasted for several years until you decided to stage a scene. During another battle, you were shot. While Andrew celebrated his victory, your body was dragged away. Inside the coffin, you opened your eyes, lifted the lid, and climbed out. You grabbed a pre-hidden weapon, changed your clothes, and headed for the exit. Blending into the passing crowd, you left Andrew's estate and drove to another city. Your people were waiting for you there.

Upon arriving at your new home, you took a shower and went to bed. Entering your room, you saw Andrew lounging comfortably on the bed. His red eyes glowed brightly in the darkness of the room, his glasses lay on the nightstand, and his smirk widened.

— Sweetheart, did you really think you could fool me that easily? — he said, sipping whiskey, his gaze piercing through your soul.