Evalina Valentini9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhERiYNtgzk
"I don’t get it, Papa. Why do I have to attend?" I whined, setting my gold fork down on the elegantly arranged table.
My father, mother, and five older brothers sat around me, all engaged in a discussion about this weekend’s ball—an event Papa was desperately trying to convince me to attend.
I had graduated high school at seventeen and somehow managed to persuade my father to let me pursue a fast-track nursing degree, which I completed last month at nineteen. I didn’t take the full four-year route because, let’s be honest, there was a high chance I’d never be able to put the degree to real use. Taking up a spot meant for someone who actually would felt selfish.
The mafia clan didn’t know much about me. To them, I was just Cookie Valentini—the nickname Papa gave me at birth to shield my identity. I had grown up in Los Angeles with my aunt, only returning home for two weeks during summer and winter breaks, and, of course, for my Quinceañera, Sweet 16, and 18th birthday.
In LA, I was Evalina Kizz. In the underground world, I was Cookie Valentini.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgIMZoiDD4l
Much like Hannah Montana—just with a little more danger.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡchBdCDe3Mz
"Because you’re not in LA anymore, Cookie. You have to attend these events, and I’m not really giving you a choice here. This is to celebrate a deal with the Cavallaro Mafia Clan—you should be happy for me." Papa took a swig of his whiskey, his tone making it clear the conversation was over.
I sighed, stabbing my steak with my fork before taking another bite. Across the table, my mom glanced at me, then at him, before letting out an exaggerated sigh of her own—except hers came with a huge, teasing smile.
I looked like my mama, no doubt about it. The same toothy, dimpled grin, the same warm brown skin. My big, hazel doe eyes came from both my parents, just like my full lips. My brothers, though? They got it all from my papa. All five of them had lighter skin, freckles, and striking green eyes. Their hair was just as thick and curly as mine, but if it weren’t for that, they could probably pass as white.
With my dad being Irish and Hispanic—hence our last name—and my mom being Jamaican, we turned out to be an interesting mix. Mom always wanted a daughter, so I knew she was secretly a little disappointed to have five boys before me. But she never let it show—she loved us all the same and made sure to spend one-on-one time with each of us every week.
"I am proud of you, Papa, I just…" I trailed off, then sighed in defeat. "Never mind. I’ll come." After a full hour of arguing, I finally caved. I had to give myself credit for holding out that long. But Papa was right—this was a big deal for him, and it should be celebrated.
<3339Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡu1rzzWgzYL
"Thank you, Josie," I said with a bright smile, twirling slightly as I admired myself in the wall-length mirror of my bedroom. Josie had done it again—she always knew exactly what I wanted, even when I didn’t. My makeup was soft and natural, with just a touch of pink lip gloss to add some shine. My lashes were light and delicate, barely there but enough to make my eyes pop. The dark pink eyeshadow blended so seamlessly with my skin tone, giving me a soft, rosy glow. Even my nose piercing matched—a tiny pink heart that added the perfect little detail.
And my hair? Absolutely perfect. Josie had styled a curly black wig, framing my face beautifully. Everything came together in the most effortless way, making me look like the best version of myself—natural, but just a little more magical.
Then, there was the dress.
It wasn’t just amazing—it was beyond anything I could have imagined. The fitted corset-style bodice hugged me just right, covered in delicate floral lace appliqués that felt like something out of a fairytale. The sweetheart neckline gave it a soft, romantic touch, while the off-the-shoulder sleeves made it feel elegant and dreamy. The waist was perfectly cinched, highlighting the curves I got from my mom, before flowing into the biggest, most breathtaking skirt. It was a true princess ball gown, all in shades of pink and gold, shimmering under the light like something straight out of a storybook.
I couldn’t stop smiling. My cheeks actually hurt.
To complete the look, I fastened my pink dangling diamond earrings and slipped on a few pink bracelets, along with my favorite gold bracelet and matching rings. Every little detail was perfect.
I felt like a princess.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKf2vsXFE6T
9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtEW0nlCK5Q
I slipped on my matching high heels, adjusting them carefully before grabbing my phone and heading out of my room. As I reached the entrance hall, I spotted three of my brothers already waiting by the door. Mama stood in front of them, straightening their ties while speaking to them in a hushed but firm tone—probably reminding them to behave.
I sighed when I noticed the guns tucked discreetly into their dress pants. Some things never changed.
"Mama, do you like it?" I asked, stepping closer with a hopeful smile. She gasped in adoration and made me spin around, giving her a full 360.
"Awh, you're so bonita, like a princess, mami." She speak, hugging me tightly.
All three of my brothers turned to look at me, offering their silent approvals. Zion, the oldest, gave me a simple nod. Ezra, the third oldest, flashed me a toothy grin, giving me a thumbs-up—his gold-plated top teeth gleaming under the chandelier light. Santiago, the youngest of the boys but still older than me, broke into a wide, cheerful smile.
A warmth spread in my chest. They didn’t always say much, but their little gestures meant everything.
Before long, Papa and my two other brothers joined us, and together, we made our way outside to the waiting limo. As we settled in, Mama and I chatted the whole ride, our conversation flowing effortlessly as the city lights blurred past the windows.
After twenty minutes, the limo finally slowed to a stop. Hades, our family’s driver, stepped forward to open the door, and one by one, we climbed out. Santiago took my arm, wrapping it around his as we walked toward the grand mansion ahead.
I recognized it immediately—it was one of those beautiful community estates often rented for grand events like balls, weddings, and extravagant birthday parties. No matter the occasion, it was always decorated perfectly to match the theme, giving it an almost fairytale-like charm.
For a moment, I let myself get lost in the sight of it, remembering how, at fourteen, I had spent an entire evening hiding in one of the quieter rooms, just to escape the overwhelming spotlight.
Tonight, though, there was no hiding.9Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs2DUJhj5iL
"The Valentinis! Nice to see you all again. And Cookie, it’s been a while—how have you been, young lady?" Liam, the owner of the venue, greeted us with a warm smile, making light conversation. I responded politely, keeping it short before quietly slipping away from the crowd.
The backyard was peaceful, a welcome escape from the noise inside. The crisp October air wrapped around me, and I immediately regretted not bringing a jacket.
Leaning against the house, I let out a small breath, watching the sun dip behind the hills. The fading light reflected off the pool, making the water shimmer like something out of a dream. The soft trickle of the waterfall filled the quiet space, soothing me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
For a moment, everything felt still. And I liked it that way.
A shiver ran down my spine—but oddly, instead of feeling colder, I felt warmer.
I frowned, confused, and turned around—only to gasp at the presence of a tall figure standing right beside me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. His scent wrapped around me like a spell—rich, smooth polo cologne that seeped into my mind, making my thoughts slow and hazy. Something about him made me want to sink into a field of roses, to get lost in something soft and unfamiliar.
How could a smell be so intoxicating?
"You alright? You were shivering." His voice was deep, the kind that lingered, scratching at some forgotten part of my brain. Before I could even respond, he shrugged off his suit jacket and gently draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of the fabric settled against me, but it wasn’t the jacket that sent a shiver down my spine—it was him.
I hesitated before looking up, but the moment I did, I regretted it instantly.
His dark brown eyes locked onto mine, intense and unwavering. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his stare felt like a silent scream—like he had just stumbled upon a hundred billion dollars lying in the middle of the street.
And for some reason, I had the strangest feeling that I was the jackpot.
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