Demise
Iris Sweetwater Elizabeth Knox
Demise
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Demise. Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Knox & Iris Sweetwater. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information contact E. Knox & I. Sweetwater.
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Cover Design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations
Editing: Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing
Proofreading: Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing
Formatting: E.C. Land, Knox Publishing
Dedicated to:
The Readers.
You’re the one who’s been here since the beginning. Thank you so much for sticking with this series, even as unconventional as it may. We have more mafia coming for you in 2021 and we hope you’re excited.
Much love,
Iris & Elizabeth
Created with Vellum
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Trigger Warning
This book is intended for mature audiences only. If darker books are not for you, please do not move forward. After re-adjusting my trigger warning system, I will not be giving any spoilers. Please understand that this is not your run of the mill romance and tough subjects will be spoken about in this storyline.
Prologue
Bianca
Okay. Ten minutes apart. He’ll show up ten minutes after I do, always moments from being fashionably late and no one will assume anything because it’s his typical style. He is Stefan Dalca after all. Arrogant. Domineering. This time isn’t anything different than the others, yet fear always strikes through my body every time he and I leave the same location.
I worry because he’s not only older than I, but because of how risqué the type of relationship we have is. I’m the daughter of Mariana Vasile and adopted daughter of Ion Petran. My biological father was nothing more than a rapist pig, so I only view Ion as my dad. He’s raised me, so if anyone has a problem they can suck it.
Stefan’s wife was killed a few years ago as a result of an attack on the Clans, a malice event which didn’t even need to take place in the first place if you ask me. But, we’re in the mafia. Things like this are going to happen whether we like it or not.
I go up the cement stairs leading into my parents’ brownstone, the home I grew up in and walk directly past their security who stand in the foyer. Anyone who comes here would only see two men in suits, but we have about fourteen. Two are in a control room watching footage, two are out in the backyard and the rest are in various locations of the home and general premises. We can never be too careful and it’s something we’ve learned time and time again. Those who say less is more have clearly never endured what we have.
I tug down my Kansas T-shirt dress as I head up the stairwell, not wanting the guards to see my neon green thong. A pair of suede color knee high boots pull of the look, complimenting the gold accents in their logo. Lastly, I sport an oversized Gucci bag on my shoulder.
You see, I’m not the typical mafia princess.
My naturally blonde hair is dyed a raspberry pink. I have two cherry blossom half-sleeves, and a chest piece. I’m not one of those prim and proper women. If you ask me, I’m the exact opposite.
The wedge of my boots clacks against the dark wooden floors and I push through my parents’ study door. It’s where we hold all the Clan meetings these days, simply video chatting with those who can’t be here in person. Time and time again has shown us when we’re all in one place, chaos will soon follow.
“Where the hell have you been, Bianca?” my father sneers, rising from his seat.
No one else is in the room besides my mother, him, and myself.
“Out. Why does it matter?” I always comment without a care in the world when it comes to him. Showing an emotional response only aggravates him more.
He stands from his chair, using his cane to help him hold his balance. Ah, his gold and black cane. He put in a special order from a Romanian man. It may appear as a simple cane, but it doubles as a sword, made from the strongest steel money can buy.
“You are my daughter, now tell me where you’ve been. I don’t have time to play games with you.”
“I’ve been out, as many twenty-one year old women do.” This time, I don’t hold back any bit of attitude. If he wants to treat me like a child, he’ll soon regret it.
“Dammit, Bianca, I—”
“I was somewhere you wouldn’t approve of, Daddy.” I bat my eyelashes, teasing him. If he only knew where I was. He’d probably have a stroke.
“Bianca!” He snarls.
“Bianca, stop it. Your father doesn’t need any additional stress right now. Goodness, you’re acting like such a brat. We have a meeting starting in a few minutes, so both of you get your shit together. Stefan, Philippe, and Mikel will be here at any given moment and then we need to call the others.” Mother butts in, doing as she always does to diffuse the situation.
“Fine,” I mutter, moseying over to my seat. I sit directly beside my father, at his right hand. One day I will inherit the Clans, so he told me from a young age they’d see me close to the head of table for when the day comes I inherit everything.
Mikel and Melody Lungu are the first who pass through the
