The Mafia Queen's Unwanted Inheritance

The last time Arabella Hayes saw her father, she was seventeen.

He had stood at the entrance of their family estate, dressed in an expensive black suit, speaking to someone on the phone while she waited for him to notice her. She had spent twenty minutes rehearsing what she wanted to say. She had even bought him a birthday gift with money she had saved from her part-time job.

He never looked at it.

Instead, he handed her a cheque and told her she would be better off staying with her mother.

That was the last conversation they ever had.

Eight years later, she was standing in front of his coffin.

"Are you going to be all right?"

Arabella turned towards the woman beside her. Her mother's old friend, Margaret, had accompanied her to Rome after receiving the news.

"I'm fine."

Margaret gave her a doubtful look. "You don't have to pretend."

"I'm not pretending. I barely knew the man."

The words sounded harsher than she intended, but they were true.

William Hayes had been a father in name only. He sent money occasionally, remembered birthdays when his assistants reminded him and disappeared for months without explanation.

Arabella had stopped expecting anything from him years ago.

Now he was dead, and somehow everyone expected her to grieve.

The funeral was held at a private chapel outside Rome. The guests were dressed in black, their expensive watches and jewellery catching the light whenever they moved. Most of them looked more like businessmen than mourners.

Yet there was something strange about them.

Nobody spoke loudly. Nobody laughed. Even their greetings were exchanged in low voices, accompanied by brief handshakes and suspicious glances.

Arabella noticed the way several men kept their hands close to their jackets.

She also noticed the security personnel stationed around the property.

Her father had always been wealthy, but she had never imagined he needed this much protection.

"Who are all these people?" she whispered.

Margaret followed her gaze.

"Business associates, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

Before Margaret could answer, a tall man approached them.

He was probably in his late forties, with silver beginning to show at his temples. His expression was polite, but his eyes were not particularly welcoming.

"Miss Hayes?"

Arabella nodded.

"My name is Dominic Rinaldi. I was your father's attorney."

"Nice to meet you."

He glanced briefly at Margaret before returning his attention to Arabella.

"Mr Hayes left specific instructions concerning you. I would appreciate a few minutes of your time after the service."

Arabella frowned.

"Concerning me?"

"Yes."

"Can it wait? I've just travelled across two countries to attend his funeral."

"I'm afraid it cannot."

There was something about his tone that made her uncomfortable.

Still, she nodded.

The funeral ended less than an hour later.

Arabella had barely stepped away from the chapel when a commotion broke out near the entrance.

Two men were arguing beside a black vehicle. Their voices were low, but their expressions were anything but friendly.

One of them noticed her watching.

His expression changed.

He whispered something to the man beside him, and both immediately stopped talking.

Arabella looked away.

Rome was beautiful, but she was beginning to dislike the atmosphere surrounding her father's death.

"Miss Hayes."

Dominic had returned.

"This way, please."

He led her through a side entrance into the main building. Margaret offered to accompany her, but Dominic politely declined.

"The meeting concerns matters that are strictly private."

Arabella hesitated.

"Then I'll wait outside," Margaret said.

Arabella squeezed her hand before following the lawyer.

They entered a spacious office overlooking the estate's gardens. Everything inside looked expensive, from the dark wooden furniture to the paintings hanging on the walls.

A thick folder sat on the desk.

Dominic gestured towards a chair.

"Please sit."

Arabella remained standing.

"Can we get this over with? I have a flight tomorrow."

The lawyer studied her for a moment before opening the folder.

"Your father changed his will approximately six months ago."

"All right."

"He left you the entirety of his personal estate, including his properties, investments and controlling interests in several companies."

Arabella blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You're his sole beneficiary."

She stared at him.

There had to be a mistake.

Her father had other relatives. She knew he had a younger brother and several cousins. Surely one of them would have been a more reasonable choice.

"How much are we talking about?"

Dominic mentioned a figure.

Arabella slowly lowered herself into the chair.

It was an amount of money she couldn't even begin to imagine.

"Why me?"

"Your father was very particular about his decision."

"He didn't speak to me for eight years. Why would he suddenly leave me everything?"

Dominic closed the folder.

"That is something you may have to discover for yourself."

Arabella let out a humourless laugh.

"That's convenient."

"There is one more matter."

She looked up.

"Of course there is."

"Your father's estate includes interests that cannot be discussed in the presence of anyone outside the family."

"What does that mean?"

Dominic seemed to consider his next words carefully.

"Your father was not simply a businessman, Miss Hayes."

Arabella's expression hardened.

"Then what was he?"

The lawyer didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he walked to the desk and retrieved another document.

"William Hayes was the head of the Hayes organisation. For over twenty years, he controlled a significant portion of the European criminal underworld."

For a moment, Arabella thought she had misunderstood him.

Then she laughed.

Not because anything was funny, but because the alternative was accepting that the man sitting across from her had just told her that her father was a criminal.

"You're joking."

"I wish I were."

"My father owned companies. He had hotels, restaurants and properties. Whatever private business he conducted is none of my concern."

"Unfortunately, it is now."

Arabella stood.

"No. Whatever arrangement he had with you people, I want no part of it."

Dominic remained seated.

"You're entitled to refuse the inheritance."

"Good."

"But you should understand that refusing it will not necessarily free you from the consequences of your father's death."

She stopped.

"What consequences?"

"Your father's position was never an ordinary one. There are people who will consider you a legitimate successor, whether you want the responsibility or not. Others will see his death as an opportunity."

Arabella stared at him.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm warning you."

She picked up her handbag.

"Then I suggest you find someone else to warn."

Dominic didn't try to stop her.

But just as she reached the door, his voice followed her.

"Your father left you a personal letter."

Arabella paused.

"Where is it?"

He held out a sealed envelope.

Her name was written across the front in her father's unmistakable handwriting.

For several seconds, she simply stared at it.

Then she took it.

She didn't open it until she was alone in the car.

The first few lines were brief.

Arabella,

If you're reading this, then I am no longer alive, and you have probably discovered that the life you thought you knew about me was only a fraction of the truth.

Her fingers tightened around the paper.

I know I failed you. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. But there is something I need you to understand.

The empire I built is now yours.

Do not surrender it to the Vescari family. Especially not to Alessio.

Arabella read the last line twice.

Alessio Vescari.

She had never heard that name before.

The letter continued.

There are things about your mother's departure that I never told you. There are also things about your birth that you have every right to know.

Trust no one until you understand what happened.

And whatever you do, do not let them put you on that throne.

The letter slipped slightly between her fingers.

Her mother's departure?

What did that have to do with anything?

Before she could read the final paragraph, a sharp knock sounded against the car window.

Arabella jumped.

The driver, a broad-shouldered man she had never seen before, stood outside.

He gestured for her to lower the window.

She hesitated before pressing the button.

"Yes?"

"Miss Hayes, we need to leave."

"Why?"

His eyes moved towards the rear of the vehicle.

"Now."

Arabella followed his gaze.

A black car had pulled up behind them.

Two men stepped out.

One remained beside the vehicle while the other approached, his expression unreadable.

The driver immediately locked the doors.

"Who are they?" Arabella asked.

"Stay inside."

The approaching man stopped beside her window and raised one hand.

He wasn't holding a weapon.

Instead, he held out a small black envelope.

Arabella looked at it, then at him.

"Who sent you?"

The man leaned closer.

"Someone who wants to meet the new head of the Hayes family."

"I think you have the wrong person."

His lips curved into the faintest smile.

"No, Miss Hayes. I'm afraid we don't."

He placed the envelope against the glass.

"Mr Vescari sends his condolences."

Arabella's stomach tightened.

Alessio Vescari.

The same name from her father's letter.

Before she could ask another question, the man stepped away.

The driver started the engine.

Arabella looked down at the envelope in her lap. There was no name on it, only a single sentence written in neat handwriting.

Your father left you a throne. Unfortunately, everyone else wants to sit on it.

For the first time since arriving in Rome, Arabella felt genuinely afraid.

She had come to bury a man she barely knew.

She was leaving with an inheritance she didn't understand, a warning she couldn't ignore and the name of a stranger her dead father had specifically told her to fear.

And somehow, she had the terrible feeling that the funeral was only the beginning.