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Description
Prologue:
Chicago, Illinois:
1901

Rain pounded against the Chicago window pane, enhancing the sounds of the sobs coming from the room over, as Rosabella D'Alba wondered how it could have possibly come to this. Hot tears filled her eyes as she thought of it. It wasn't possible. How could it have come to this?! Her husband, Valentino D'Alba, was dead at the hands of her own brother! She rubbed the moisture in her eyes away. She could not grieve so openly, not now. The boss of the Cosa Nostra was dead; unless actions were taken immediately the coscas would collapse into a war!

Never had a Cosa Nostra faced something like this before. The capo di tutti capi was killed by a member of the same cosca! Nobody had known what to do. As the wife of the boss, Rosabella was the decision maker. Vittore, Valentino's twin and the underboss, was even left speechless. Rosabella had never been fully aware of her power over the Cosa Nostra until today. The entire Cosa Nostra was on the other side of her bedroom door, awaiting her command.

A loud wail from across the room shook her thoughts. She ran to the crib and cradled the tiny child in her arms. "Shh…La mamma è qui" she whispered to her daughter. Tears filled her eyes once again. Valentino's only child…a daughter, not fit to one day lead the Cosa Nostra, by tradition. Rosabella smiled sadly down into the face of her newborn, Salvatrice D'Alba. Her tiny blue eyes shone brightly against her crème colored skin and her dark curly hair wisped across her skull. A true Italian, her mother thought with a momentary spark of pride.

"Rosabella?" a man called through her door. She swallowed once more, suppressing any emotion she might have shown previously before answering the door.

"Vittore, please come in," she said softly in Italian.

The door creaked open and a man wearing a simple grey suit entered. On his finger was a large silver ring, adorning the crest of the D'Alba family. He humbly removed his hat to her. "Rose, how are you?" Vittore asked carefully. It was obvious Rose was putting on a front. For the Family he could understand…but she was his sister-in-law. She sniffed.

"I'm fine, Vito… Have you disposed of the rebel?" Rose dare not say the traitors name… Her own brother…murderer of the boss…murderer of her husband. "Yes. Sasone and his son took him out back…he won't be hurting the family again." Rose tossed a sad smile at her brother-in-law, her husband's twin brother. Even now, she couldn't help but stare at Vito, being his twin he was a mirror image of his older brother.

His sharp brows and angular jaw had made Valentino incredibly favored among women. Though Valentino had been at the peak of his physical being, it was his eyes that had intoxicated the young Rosabella. His striking sapphire colored eyes. She'd been asked to marry the twenty year old Valentino by her own family. The D'Alba clan mixing with the Mauroni family had been news throughout the streets. Two of the biggest most powerful families coming together as one Cosa Nostra, but the marriage of the two had not been fully based on business. They'd loved each other. Truly.

When Rosabella became pregnant, every cosca rejoiced. The boss of bosses was having a child. With the gender of the child unknown they'd all waited anxiously for the birth. The Cosa Nostra needed a boy from the D'Alba line to be boss, but it was a daughter that Rosabella produced, not a son. It seemed the only ones not disappointed had been Valentino and Vittore. Only a week after the birth of their daughter, Valentino was dead? Still, Rose could not piece together why this would happen.

"Rose, it is time to address the Family…will you be okay?" Vito asked carefully eyeing her. She nodded curtly, her small mouth set harshly in a tiny line. Rose smiled down at her baby for a moment before kissing her forehead. "Momma will be back, baby," she whispered in Italian. She gently passed her cooing daughter to Vito. "Rose, if you wanna stay in here, I'll give the speech. Just tell me what to say," he offered gently bouncing the baby in his arms.

She shook her head weakly. "Vito, I am the head of Cosa Nostra. Let me do this."

Rose did not wait for his answer. She exited her bedchamber and entered the next room which was packed full of members of both the D'Alba family and some from Mauroni family. Silence fell upon the room as each person caught sight of Rosabella D'Alba, the consigliere of the D'Alba Cosa Nostra. She'd served her Cosa Nostra with effectiveness, never backing down from her place at the boss's right hand. Nobody expected her, a woman, to be able to live the life of a gangster, but she'd proven herself a worthy member of the D'Alba family time and time again. She'd stood by her husband's side with unswerving devotion to her family and its cause.

So for the Family to see Rosabella's tiny face framed with wispy strands of brown hair that had fallen from its bun, her eyes swollen from crying, was a shattering realization of what had just happened. Beside her, cradling Valentino's only child in his suited arms was Vittore D'Alba. The Underboss looked out into the crowed of what was his family and frowned. Rosabella's parents were nowhere to be seen.

"Member's of the D'Alba and Mauroni family, as a wife, I'd like to thank you for joining together in honor of my husband. As consigliere of the Family, I'd like to thank you for gathering to honor the head of the family." She stopped and caught her breath. Her hand clutched the beaded rosary around her neck; she swallowed the tears that were threatening to fall. "After much grief, I have decided that the only person I trust to lead the Family, Vittore D'Alba is the new boss." A mumble of agreements sounded throughout the room. It had been expected that Vittore, the brother of the late boss, would take his place. "And when Vittore's time as boss is up, my daughter will become boss," Rosabella added confidently, shooting a quick glance at her infant daughter.

A moment of silence ensued before the entire room erupted into shouts and screams.

"That's not possible! She's a girl!" one man shouted above the noise.

"A woman cannot run the Cosa Nostra!" another voice shouted.

"I've decided!" Rose spat at the crowed in anger. Who where they to say that her daughter, Valentino's daughter, was not fit to lead the Cosa Nostra?! With the proper training and discipline, Salvatrice would lead the D'Alba with an iron fist! It mattered not that she was a female!

The anger bubbling on her face silenced the crowed. "My daughter is rightfully in line to run the gang," she said in a fierce whisper. "And until she is old enough to lead it, Vittore will. There will not be any discussion on the subject; do I make myself perfectly clear, Family?" Rose asked louder. The silence was her answer. She knew there would be no questions on her decision… though she was a woman she was the right-hand woman of the boss. It was her decision.

"Vito, I think I'll go for a drive. Keep Sal safe won't you?" she said smiling weakly at her brother-in-law. Sal, what Valentino had called their daughter for the short time he knew her. "Rose, you shouldn't be driving. You should be with your family."

"I think I'd rather be surrounded by silence than by family at the moment, excuse me." And with a small kiss placed in her daughter's forehead she departed.

Rosabella walked through the crowed toward the door. The crowed cleared a path, each person taking off their hat or dipping their head in respect for her loss. She kept her nose held high, her emotions would not be seen in the public view of the D'Alba's.

Her light grey silk dress flowed gracefully behind her as she walked through the door and into the night.

That was the last time the Family would see Rosabella D'Alba.

Chapter 1
Chicago, Illinois
1920

"Damn it all!" Link shouted kicking over his chair. His brown eyes, wide with anger, swept across the faces of his siblings, his breathing quickening. The thick heavy melancholy emotions filled the small confined room that held the four adults. The dark sense of sadness that humidified the air seemed to take a toll of their attitudes. The youngest of the group stood tall and lean. He was only fifteen but the full beard that covered his chin made him appear much older.

"Damn, Link! Sit down and control yourself, you little punk!" Art ran his long fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. The four siblings looked around at each other. All their minds focused on one thing only. Their current living situation. Art looked thoughtfully at his siblings. "Well," Link said, breaking the silence, "will we do it?"

"Of course not! How could you even suggest that, Lincoln?! Sal is not some piece of property to be sold this way and that!" This proclamation came from Lucy. At 24 Lucy was easily the eldest of the family. Her cropped red hair curled wildly about her face, making her look even more furious. Her blue eyes shone angrily as she glared at her youngest sibling. Link growled angrily at his sister. Being the youngest also gave him the shortest of tempers. Racking his large hands through his tangled mass of red hair, Link, childishly, turned his back on his older siblings.

"Luce, she's willing! Why can't we? You'd rather live on the streets?!" Sal flinched at the thought. Though she was more than willing to do everything she could for her family the thought of James Clark's hands grazing over her body literally made bile rise in her throat. James Clark, the landlord over the apartment in which the siblings lived in, had posted an eviction notice three days previous. Given only five days to pay rent they were left without much of an option.

The fall in the stocks had depleted what little money the Lester family had in their bank accounts. Their only chance at keeping their home was the offer James Clark had made. Sal for their home. She forced her eyes closed at the thought of his disgusting touch against her body, his lips against her skin. The notion of his body invading hers made her gag.

"Sal," her older sister gasped. "That is out of the question! You can't just give yourself away like that, not for something so petty." In all honesty, Sal didn't see their predicament as one with options. It was either live or die. Her virginity did not hold much worth to her in these dreary times. If prostitution was what would keep a family afloat then it must be done. However, her older siblings were not such free thinker.

"Sal, you've got to be crazy if you think I'm going to let that pig touch you," Art said through clenched teeth. "So what are we going to do then?!" she asked mockingly. "How are we going to pay the rent, Art? Lucy? Link is the only one who's thinking straight right now," Sal said in an aggravated tone. "We're going to stick to the plan!" Lucy spat bitterly. "Picking pockets worked for us for years. We'll do that. Art and Lincoln, stay with Sal, work as a team." Her eyes locked on her younger sister and narrowed. "We wouldn't want her doing something she'd regret," she stated gravely.

Sal's nostrils flared in anger as her hands curled tightly into fists, turning her knuckles white. She held her tongue, knowing that should she lose her temper Lucy and Art would all but beat her senseless. "Fine," she gave in, "I don't want to stay here any longer than I have too, Link, come with me." The young fifteen year old boy jumped up grabbing his sister's hand before she could get too far. Angrily she ripped her hand from his grip. "I can lead myself, Link!" she shouted grabbing her hat from the counter and shoving her dark brown hair into the cap, this helping in hiding her gender from the outside world. The boyish clothes that hung lose enough to fit Art in with her hid her figure perfectly, disguising her feminine curves for a boys stocky hard waist and her bosom was tied back, flatting her chest as best Sal Lester could manage.

She walked quickly toward the rotting wood door of the old apartment. Fuming with rage she waited not for her younger brother. Only one thing could calm her down now. She cared not that when Lucy or Art found her they'd for sure beat her blue.

Description
Prologue:
Chicago, Illinois:
1901

Rain pounded against the Chicago window pane, enhancing the sounds of the sobs coming from the room over, as Rosabella D'Alba wondered how it could have possibly come to this. Hot tears filled her eyes as she thought of it. It wasn't possible. How could it have come to this?! Her husband, Valentino D'Alba, was dead at the hands of her own brother! She rubbed the moisture in her eyes away. She could not grieve so openly, not now. The boss of the Cosa Nostra was dead; unless actions were taken immediately the coscas would collapse into a war!

Never had a Cosa Nostra faced something like this before. The capo di tutti capi was killed by a member of the same cosca! Nobody had known what to do. As the wife of the boss, Rosabella was the decision maker. Vittore, Valentino's twin and the underboss, was even left speechless. Rosabella had never been fully aware of her power over the Cosa Nostra until today. The entire Cosa Nostra was on the other side of her bedroom door, awaiting her command.

A loud wail from across the room shook her thoughts. She ran to the crib and cradled the tiny child in her arms. "Shh…La mamma è qui" she whispered to her daughter. Tears filled her eyes once again. Valentino's only child…a daughter, not fit to one day lead the Cosa Nostra, by tradition. Rosabella smiled sadly down into the face of her newborn, Salvatrice D'Alba. Her tiny blue eyes shone brightly against her crème colored skin and her dark curly hair wisped across her skull. A true Italian, her mother thought with a momentary spark of pride.

"Rosabella?" a man called through her door. She swallowed once more, suppressing any emotion she might have shown previously before answering the door.

"Vittore, please come in," she said softly in Italian.

The door creaked open and a man wearing a simple grey suit entered. On his finger was a large silver ring, adorning the crest of the D'Alba family. He humbly removed his hat to her. "Rose, how are you?" Vittore asked carefully. It was obvious Rose was putting on a front. For the Family he could understand…but she was his sister-in-law. She sniffed.

"I'm fine, Vito… Have you disposed of the rebel?" Rose dare not say the traitors name… Her own brother…murderer of the boss…murderer of her husband. "Yes. Sasone and his son took him out back…he won't be hurting the family again." Rose tossed a sad smile at her brother-in-law, her husband's twin brother. Even now, she couldn't help but stare at Vito, being his twin he was a mirror image of his older brother.

His sharp brows and angular jaw had made Valentino incredibly favored among women. Though Valentino had been at the peak of his physical being, it was his eyes that had intoxicated the young Rosabella. His striking sapphire colored eyes. She'd been asked to marry the twenty year old Valentino by her own family. The D'Alba clan mixing with the Mauroni family had been news throughout the streets. Two of the biggest most powerful families coming together as one Cosa Nostra, but the marriage of the two had not been fully based on business. They'd loved each other. Truly.

When Rosabella became pregnant, every cosca rejoiced. The boss of bosses was having a child. With the gender of the child unknown they'd all waited anxiously for the birth. The Cosa Nostra needed a boy from the D'Alba line to be boss, but it was a daughter that Rosabella produced, not a son. It seemed the only ones not disappointed had been Valentino and Vittore. Only a week after the birth of their daughter, Valentino was dead? Still, Rose could not piece together why this would happen.

"Rose, it is time to address the Family…will you be okay?" Vito asked carefully eyeing her. She nodded curtly, her small mouth set harshly in a tiny line. Rose smiled down at her baby for a moment before kissing her forehead. "Momma will be back, baby," she whispered in Italian. She gently passed her cooing daughter to Vito. "Rose, if you wanna stay in here, I'll give the speech. Just tell me what to say," he offered gently bouncing the baby in his arms.

She shook her head weakly. "Vito, I am the head of Cosa Nostra. Let me do this."

Rose did not wait for his answer. She exited her bedchamber and entered the next room which was packed full of members of both the D'Alba family and some from Mauroni family. Silence fell upon the room as each person caught sight of Rosabella D'Alba, the consigliere of the D'Alba Cosa Nostra. She'd served her Cosa Nostra with effectiveness, never backing down from her place at the boss's right hand. Nobody expected her, a woman, to be able to live the life of a gangster, but she'd proven herself a worthy member of the D'Alba family time and time again. She'd stood by her husband's side with unswerving devotion to her family and its cause.

So for the Family to see Rosabella's tiny face framed with wispy strands of brown hair that had fallen from its bun, her eyes swollen from crying, was a shattering realization of what had just happened. Beside her, cradling Valentino's only child in his suited arms was Vittore D'Alba. The Underboss looked out into the crowed of what was his family and frowned. Rosabella's parents were nowhere to be seen.

"Member's of the D'Alba and Mauroni family, as a wife, I'd like to thank you for joining together in honor of my husband. As consigliere of the Family, I'd like to thank you for gathering to honor the head of the family." She stopped and caught her breath. Her hand clutched the beaded rosary around her neck; she swallowed the tears that were threatening to fall. "After much grief, I have decided that the only person I trust to lead the Family, Vittore D'Alba is the new boss." A mumble of agreements sounded throughout the room. It had been expected that Vittore, the brother of the late boss, would take his place. "And when Vittore's time as boss is up, my daughter will become boss," Rosabella added confidently, shooting a quick glance at her infant daughter.

A moment of silence ensued before the entire room erupted into shouts and screams.

"That's not possible! She's a girl!" one man shouted above the noise.

"A woman cannot run the Cosa Nostra!" another voice shouted.

"I've decided!" Rose spat at the crowed in anger. Who where they to say that her daughter, Valentino's daughter, was not fit to lead the Cosa Nostra?! With the proper training and discipline, Salvatrice would lead the D'Alba with an iron fist! It mattered not that she was a female!

The anger bubbling on her face silenced the crowed. "My daughter is rightfully in line to run the gang," she said in a fierce whisper. "And until she is old enough to lead it, Vittore will. There will not be any discussion on the subject; do I make myself perfectly clear, Family?" Rose asked louder. The silence was her answer. She knew there would be no questions on her decision… though she was a woman she was the right-hand woman of the boss. It was her decision.

"Vito, I think I'll go for a drive. Keep Sal safe won't you?" she said smiling weakly at her brother-in-law. Sal, what Valentino had called their daughter for the short time he knew her. "Rose, you shouldn't be driving. You should be with your family."

"I think I'd rather be surrounded by silence than by family at the moment, excuse me." And with a small kiss placed in her daughter's forehead she departed.

Rosabella walked through the crowed toward the door. The crowed cleared a path, each person taking off their hat or dipping their head in respect for her loss. She kept her nose held high, her emotions would not be seen in the public view of the D'Alba's.

Her light grey silk dress flowed gracefully behind her as she walked through the door and into the night.

That was the last time the Family would see Rosabella D'Alba.

Chapter 1
Chicago, Illinois
1920

"Damn it all!" Link shouted kicking over his chair. His brown eyes, wide with anger, swept across the faces of his siblings, his breathing quickening. The thick heavy melancholy emotions filled the small confined room that held the four adults. The dark sense of sadness that humidified the air seemed to take a toll of their attitudes. The youngest of the group stood tall and lean. He was only fifteen but the full beard that covered his chin made him appear much older.

"Damn, Link! Sit down and control yourself, you little punk!" Art ran his long fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. The four siblings looked around at each other. All their minds focused on one thing only. Their current living situation. Art looked thoughtfully at his siblings. "Well," Link said, breaking the silence, "will we do it?"

"Of course not! How could you even suggest that, Lincoln?! Sal is not some piece of property to be sold this way and that!" This proclamation came from Lucy. At 24 Lucy was easily the eldest of the family. Her cropped red hair curled wildly about her face, making her look even more furious. Her blue eyes shone angrily as she glared at her youngest sibling. Link growled angrily at his sister. Being the youngest also gave him the shortest of tempers. Racking his large hands through his tangled mass of red hair, Link, childishly, turned his back on his older siblings.

"Luce, she's willing! Why can't we? You'd rather live on the streets?!" Sal flinched at the thought. Though she was more than willing to do everything she could for her family the thought of James Clark's hands grazing over her body literally made bile rise in her throat. James Clark, the landlord over the apartment in which the siblings lived in, had posted an eviction notice three days previous. Given only five days to pay rent they were left without much of an option.

The fall in the stocks had depleted what little money the Lester family had in their bank accounts. Their only chance at keeping their home was the offer James Clark had made. Sal for their home. She forced her eyes closed at the thought of his disgusting touch against her body, his lips against her skin. The notion of his body invading hers made her gag.

"Sal," her older sister gasped. "That is out of the question! You can't just give yourself away like that, not for something so petty." In all honesty, Sal didn't see their predicament as one with options. It was either live or die. Her virginity did not hold much worth to her in these dreary times. If prostitution was what would keep a family afloat then it must be done. However, her older siblings were not such free thinker.

"Sal, you've got to be crazy if you think I'm going to let that pig touch you," Art said through clenched teeth. "So what are we going to do then?!" she asked mockingly. "How are we going to pay the rent, Art? Lucy? Link is the only one who's thinking straight right now," Sal said in an aggravated tone. "We're going to stick to the plan!" Lucy spat bitterly. "Picking pockets worked for us for years. We'll do that. Art and Lincoln, stay with Sal, work as a team." Her eyes locked on her younger sister and narrowed. "We wouldn't want her doing something she'd regret," she stated gravely.

Sal's nostrils flared in anger as her hands curled tightly into fists, turning her knuckles white. She held her tongue, knowing that should she lose her temper Lucy and Art would all but beat her senseless. "Fine," she gave in, "I don't want to stay here any longer than I have too, Link, come with me." The young fifteen year old boy jumped up grabbing his sister's hand before she could get too far. Angrily she ripped her hand from his grip. "I can lead myself, Link!" she shouted grabbing her hat from the counter and shoving her dark brown hair into the cap, this helping in hiding her gender from the outside world. The boyish clothes that hung lose enough to fit Art in with her hid her figure perfectly, disguising her feminine curves for a boys stocky hard waist and her bosom was tied back, flatting her chest as best Sal Lester could manage.

She walked quickly toward the rotting wood door of the old apartment. Fuming with rage she waited not for her younger brother. Only one thing could calm her down now. She cared not that when Lucy or Art found her they'd for sure beat her blue.