Chapter 1
"**I WAS CHICAGO'S MOST FEARED MAFIA BOSS, BUT A FOUR-YEAR-OLD GIRL WALKED INTO MY MANSION, CALLED ME “MR. GRUMPY,” AND ORDERED ME TO ATTEND HER TEDDY BEAR'S WEDDING. MY ARMED GUARDS TRIED NOT TO LAUGH, BUT WHEN SHE HANDED ME A PINK TIARA AND SAID, “YOU'RE THE PRINCESS,” EVEN MY MOST LOYAL MEN LOST CONTROL.**
My name is Vincent Moretti.
At thirty-eight, I controlled one of Chicago's most powerful mafia empires.
I stood six-foot-four, with broad muscular shoulders, a powerful chest, cold blue eyes, and black tattoos covering both arms.
I had survived assassination attempts, gang wars, and betrayals.
But nothing prepared me for Emma.
She was my housekeeper Isabella's four-year-old daughter.
A beautiful little girl with golden curls, enormous green eyes, chubby pink cheeks, and the most mischievous smile I'd ever seen.
That Saturday morning, I was conducting an important meeting with six of my most dangerous men.
Maps covered my desk.
Everyone looked serious.
Then my office door burst open.
“MR. GRUMPY!”
Six armed men froze.
Emma marched inside wearing a pink princess dress, glittery shoes, and a crooked plastic crown.
Behind her, Isabella appeared, horrified.
“Emma! Come back!”
But the little girl ignored her mother.
She pointed directly at me.
“You're late!”
I slowly lowered my coffee.
“Late for what?”
“My teddy bear's wedding!”
My security chief, Marco, coughed suspiciously.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I'm busy, little lady.”
Emma planted her tiny hands on her hips.
“That's what Daddy Bear said. Now Mommy Bear is crying.”
Someone snorted.
I glared around the room.
Silence returned.
“Emma, I have important business.”
She studied my tattooed arms.
Then she sighed dramatically.
“You're very big, but you're not very smart.”
Marco turned toward the window, shaking.
I stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You can't miss a wedding! That's rude!”
Before I could respond, Emma climbed onto my lap.
Then she placed a glittering pink tiara on my head.
“There. You're the princess.”
The room exploded.
Marco laughed so hard he nearly dropped his phone.
I slowly turned toward him.
“Would you like to explain what's funny?”
“Nothing, boss!”
Emma patted my cheek.
“Don't be mean. Princesses have to be nice.”
For the first time in twenty years, nobody was afraid of Vincent Moretti.
I was wearing a pink tiara.
And apparently, I was the princess.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Five minutes.”
Emma gasped.
“YAY! THE PRINCESS SAID YES!”
She grabbed my tattooed hand and dragged me toward the hallway.
Then she stopped.
“Oh! One more thing.”
I sighed.
“What now?”
She smiled sweetly.
“You have to kiss the frog before the wedding.”
I froze.
“What frog?”
Emma reached into her tiny purse.
May you like
And pulled out something that made all six mafia soldiers jump backward.
**Comment “YES” if you want the full story. 👇"
