Part 2Walking Away From the Underboss

Before I could put my phone away, a shadow fell over me.

Vincent glanced at my screen, his face turning dark with pure disgust.

"An Enforcer?" He stepped forward, looking down at me as if he saw a big joke. "Clara, stop lying to yourself. If you weren't the eldest daughter of the Rossi family, you wouldn't survive a single day in the underground world!"

I didn't even give him a second glance. I brushed past his shoulder and walked away in my heels.

5 PM. Underground Firing Range No. 1.

The air smelled heavy of gunpowder and metal.

Whenever I went out with Vincent before, I was just a servant—holding bags, taking drinks, and carrying extra ammo. When he was in a good mood, he said he would teach me to shoot, but he never even unlocked the safety switch for me, saying, "A woman with a gun is useless."

But right now, the man behind me leaned down slightly.

When we first met, he only said his name was Gabe. He gave no other details.

Besides his sharp face, I knew nothing about him. But he knew everything about the mob.

His big, warm hand covered the back of mine, fixing my grip. His deep voice sounded right by my ear, cold yet full of strength: "Don't fear the recoil. Remember, Clara—the bullet doesn't care about Vincent. It only obeys you."

I pulled the trigger. The bullet flew out with a roar, ripping straight through the target a hundred meters away!

In the ringing sound of the gunshot, my eyes grew wet. A rush of pure control surged through my blood.

The next morning, an alert flashed on the gang's channel.

Vincent tagged me in the main group: [Clara, go to the harbor race track at 3 PM to drive the escort car for me. I'm busy today.]

The group stayed dead silent. Everyone was waiting to mock me.

In front of all the gang leaders, I typed two words: [No time.]

Then I added: [I am inspecting my Armory No. 3 this afternoon.]

My phone exploded with a call a second later. Vincent's angry voice roared through the speaker: "Clara! Are you crazy?! You really think that fifty-dollar dark web dog is a big deal? You do whatever he says? Get over here and don't ruin her important work!"

"Her work matters, but my armory doesn't?" I laughed coldly. "Find another driver, Vincent. I'm not your servant."

Driving out of the estate, I glanced out the window. On the high platform of the training ground, Vincent was holding Bianca, helping her tighten her tactical gloves and vest with soft movements.

This was his so-called important work? Training together?

I rolled up my window. The last bit of pain in my heart vanished completely.

That evening, at the core officers' meeting, Gabe typed casually in our encrypted chat: [Tell them your rules, Princess.]

I stood before the room, looking at dozens of tough men with doubtful eyes. I spoke calmly: "I don't play mind games. I only know one thing: as long as your gun is heavy enough, no matter how weak you seem, you can carve out your own territory in the dark."

Silence fell over the room.

When night came, someone posted a map of the candidates' power in the family group.

Gabe posted a dark web screenshot for me: [Armory No. 3 Transfer Complete].

The official seal sat right on it.

The group exploded. Several old officers popped up for the first time:

[She really has the old Godfather's blood! That was fast!]

[Just like the Godfather! We support Princess!]

Before I could reply, Vincent sent a long voice message with a harsh tone: "Don't be fooled! It's just a fake empty shell! Without my team, she can't even read a basic contract!"

Bianca followed with a sad face emoji: "Yes, real deals are harder. Clara, don't make the numbers look too good, or the Elders might audit you."

Looking at their ugly faces, I didn't cry or defend myself like before.

I typed calmly: [Fake or not, let the numbers speak at the first trial.]

I put my phone down into the dark night.

My dark web terminal flashed with Gabe's top-secret message:

[Go to the Vegas casino tomorrow. Don't step back. Show them your fangs.]