By My Rules

My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, and I wrote the rules of this city’s underworld myself. Yet, the man I had kept by my side for ten years, Drake Leon, was now trampling all over them. Ten years was more than enough time for a stray dog to grow into a wolf that can stand on its own. A decade ago, he was hacked to pieces by enemies on the streets of Brooklyn. Covered in blood, he crawled to me like a dying dog. I took him in. I put a gun in his hand. I taught him the rules of the mafia. Step by step, using my position as the Leon mafia family’s consigliere, I groomed him to become the boss of the Manhattan port district. Ten years later, he controlled the most valuable port under the Leon family for me, and for another woman, he framed her in standing grace. When that girl named Lina showed up pregnant, wearing the blue diamond necklace my mother left me, and sat in the seat that was supposed to be mine, I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I had someone take the pathology report from the hospital, along with the child, seal them in a gift box, and deliver them to Drake’s new estate. Half an hour later, the study door was kicked open. He stormed in, drenched in night rain, carrying the scent of gunpowder. The barrel of his gun pressed straight against my forehead. “Violet.” He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I stayed seated by the fireplace. I didn’t move. I simply pushed a document to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him and continued, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two shipping routes, and seven offshore accounts.” Only then did his expression finally change. I smiled faintly, my voice soft. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.” Chapter 1 My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, the woman who drafted every rule in this underworld. Yet Drake Leon, the man I held close for a decade, was now defying them all. The Godfather’s winter banquet was the most exclusive event in New York’s underworld. Anyone seated at the main table held the power of life and death over half the city, and the seat to the right of the head chair—the one that should have been mine—was now occupied by a girl in an out-of-place white dress. Her name was Lina. One of her hands rested lightly over her still-flat stomach, and around her neck hung the blue diamond necklace I spent three full years searching for—my mother’s keepsake. She looked up at me and smiled, innocent and vicious all at once, like a songbird that’s just learned how to lift its head. “Consigliere, I heard this necklace used to belong to you?” Her fingers traced the diamond. Each word she spoke was malicious. “But Drake said… old things should always have a new owner.” The entire hall fell silent. Every eye turned to me. Some were curious, some were sympathetic, and others were waiting to watch me lose control. Instead, I ignored Lina and lifted my gaze to the man sitting beside her, Drake. Ten years ago, he had crawled to me through the cold rain in Brooklyn, covered in blood, begging to live like a stray dog on its last breath. I gave him a name. I gave him a gun, and I gave him the Manhattan port. Step by step, I placed him on the throne he sat on now. Yet, at this moment, he looked at me without a single word of explanation. He didn’t even tell Lina to shut up. That was when I understood. This wasn’t some passing affair; this was a test he planned long ago. He wanted to see if I’d lose my mind out of jealousy, if I’d back down because of our ten-year relationship, and if I’d give him a legitimate reason to drag me down from power. I set my wine glass down. The soft clink of glass against the table echoed through the silent hall, and for a brief moment, even the air seemed to freeze. Drake’s fingers clenched slightly. I could tell that he was waiting for me to snap. Alas, after ten years, he still didn’t seem to understand me. In my life, the one thing I had always had was the ability to be ruthless. Without saying a single word, I stood and left. The moment I turned my back, whispers exploded behind me, but I didn’t look back once. That very night, the hospital’s pathology report was delivered to my study. Lina was suffering from abdominal pain and bleeding, and the child didn’t make it through. My right-hand man stood across the desk, his voice low. “Ma’am, should we dispose of it?” I stared at the report for a long time. My fingers traced the words ‘early pregnancy termination’ printed on the page. Then, slowly, I folded the document myself. Along with the fetus Drake had treated like a treasure, I placed everything into a velvet gift box. I didn’t care whether the child was his. What I cared about was the nerve he had to bring that woman to me and humiliate me. “Send this to Drake’s new estate.” I looked up at my right-hand man, a cold smile curling at my lips. “I know he’ll come.” It was just like ten years ago, when he had crawled to me, desperate to live. This time, he’d come just as desperately, ready to lose his mind right in front of me. Chapter 2 Drake came, just like I knew he would. The moment the door was kicked open, the flames in the fireplace flickered. He strode straight toward me in a few quick steps, the dark barrel of his gun pressing hard against my forehead. “Violet.” He bit down on my name, like a beast trapped in a cage. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I sat back in the leather chair by the fireplace. I didn’t even stand. Instead, I casually nudged a document forward with my fingertips, sliding the port transfer order to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him, my tone as calm as if we were discussing the weather. “I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two smuggling routes, and seven offshore accounts fifteen minutes ago.” The rage on Drake’s face froze instantly, and the color drained from it. His hand, still gripping the gun, began to tremble. I smiled faintly. My voice was soft, but every word cut deep. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.” “You investigated me?” He slammed the gun onto the table. His voice dropped low. He was holding back the fury burning in his chest. “I’m reclaiming what’s mine.” I leaned back into the chair, watching his barely contained anger with quiet amusement. “The Manhattan port district? I built it for you. Those shipping routes you controlled? I laid them out for you. I even picked you up off the street, giving you a life. And now I want it back. Do you have a problem with that?” He stared at the transfer order for a long moment before finally forcing out a sentence, disbelief written all over his face. “It’s just a woman. Is it really worth taking it this far?” “Just a woman?” I repeated his words, slowly turning the empty glass in my hand. “Then why did you let her wear my mother’s necklace? Why did you let her sit in the place that was supposed to be mine? Why did you let her humiliate me in front of the entire New York mafia?” He fell silent. I knew him better than anyone. This was never about Lina. Lina and that child she failed to keep were nothing more than a tool to him. He just wanted to see if I, who had spent ten years honing him, my sharpest blade, would crack on my own. Over the years, he’d built his own power—men, money, connections, and, along with it, a hunger he could no longer suppress. He was no longer satisfied with being the sharpest blade in my hand. He wanted to be the one holding it. “Drake.” My voice stayed calm, but there was no room for argument. “Starting today, you’re not allowed to come back to our villa.” A flicker of shock crossed his eyes. “You’re turning on me?” “I’m not turning on you.” I met his gaze and said, “I’m settling the score.” I lifted a hand. My right-hand man stepped in immediately, carrying a thick stack of documents and dropping them in front of him. Every dollar he’d siphoned from the family under the name of the port district, every member he’d secretly pulled to his side, and every deal he’d made with outside forces were all there. His expression darkened with every page. By the time he reached the last one, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He flipped the entire stack off the table, papers scattering across the floor. “Violet, don’t forget, I didn’t get where I am today because of you alone!” “Of course.” I looked at him coldly. “There was also the opportunity I gave you, the identity I gave you, and the name I gave you. Without me, you’d still be a stray dog rotting beside a dumpster in Brooklyn.” The veins at his temples bulged, as if he might lunge at me any second and strangle me. However, in the end, he braced himself against the table, leaning forward as he questioned me through clenched teeth. “What exactly do you want?” “Simple.” I met his eyes, without the slightest emotion. “I want you out of my bed, out of my books, and out of whatever shred of feelings I have left for you.” Drake stared at me for a long time. Then, suddenly, he laughed a low, cold, and unfamiliar laugh. “Fine, Violet. Don’t regret this. I’ll make sure you pay for this tenfold.” He slammed the door on his way out, leaving his threat behind. I looked at the closed door, then lifted my glass and took a slow sip. Regret? The one thing I regretted was never turning on him. I should have left him to die in that alley ten years ago instead of bringing him back with me. Chapter 3 Drake’s retaliation came faster and far more vicious than I expected. In just three days, all three of our West Coast arms routes were cut off. Two senior figures who had always remained neutral suddenly changed their stance, openly questioning my authority as the Godfather's acting representative. Even the two most stable cash flows in the port district ran into trouble on the same day. I sat in my office and listened to the full report. When it was over, I only asked one question. “What about the cemetery?” My right-hand man lowered his head. “The olive grove… It’s been leveled.” The pen in my hand snapped in half. That cemetery sat on the north shore of Long Island. It held the grave of my first child with Drake, Angelo. By the time I arrived, the site had been sealed off. Several of the oldest trees lay toppled across the dirt, their roots ripped out of the ground. The row of trees that used to stand thickest in front of Angelo’s grave was now nothing but broken stumps. Lina stood not far away, holding a set of estate blueprints, looking pleased with herself. “The lighting here is perfect.” She turned back to smile at Drake. “When the new house is built, I want the nursery on the second floor. It’ll have a view of the sea.” I walked over. I didn’t even glance at Drake. I simply raised my hand and fired a shot straight through the blueprint, tearing the paper apart instantly. The workers froze in shock. Lina screamed and stumbled into Drake’s arms. He stepped in front of her, his expression dark. “Violet, have you lost your mind?” My second shot hit the front wheel of a bulldozer. The blast echoed so loudly that no one dared move. “Get out,” I said, my gaze sweeping across the site. “Anyone who's still here in three minutes… will get buried here.” No one thought I was bluffing, but Drake didn’t move. He stood at the edge of the graveyard, meeting my eyes across the scattered debris, his voice unnaturally cold. “He’s dead. What’s the point of keeping the trees?” Finding it ironic, I asked, “Then what were you doing back then, kneeling in front of his grave and planting them?” He paused for a moment, but when he spoke again, his gaze had only hardened. “Back then, I thought I’d spend my life guarding the past,” he said. “But later, I realized you can’t live forever tied to a dead child and a dead relationship.” The words cut into my chest like a blade. My grip tightened around the gun, my knuckles turning white. Lina suddenly leaned out from behind him, her voice sickly sweet. “Consigliere, if you’re so attached to this place, you’re welcome to visit anytime. When Drake and I have another child, they’ll call you–” Before she could finish her sentence, I slapped her hard across the face. The force sent her crashing into the dirt, one side of her face swelling almost instantly. Silence fell over the entire site. Drake’s expression changed sharply. He rushed forward and grabbed my wrist. “Violet!” “Let go.” I stared straight at him as I said, “If you don’t, my next shot goes into her stomach.” He didn’t release me. If anything, there was a trace of cold satisfaction in his eyes. “So you finally lost your composure,” he said quietly. “I thought you didn’t care about anything at all.” I looked at him and suddenly stopped struggling. “Drake.” One by one, I pried his fingers off my wrist and said, “You’re going to regret leveling this grove.” Then, I personally moved Angelo’s headstone and ashes. And when I left, I didn’t look back, because I knew from this moment on, there was nothing left between us but winning and losing. Chapter 4 Three months later, a black market auction was held in an old opera house in Queens. It was one of the underworld’s favorite places to do business in New York. On the surface, they auctioned off jewelry and antiques. Behind the scenes, what really changed hands were shipping routes, territory, and favors. I hadn’t planned on going. That was, until one of my men placed the auction catalog on my desk, and on the last page, I saw the blue diamond brooch. It was something my mother used to wear when she was young. It was originally part of a set—the same set as the necklace now hanging around Lina’s neck. Since Drake had taken the necklace to please his new woman, I wasn’t about to lose this brooch. So, I went. By the time I entered, Drake was already there. He had Lina with him, seated in the most visible spot in the room. She had changed into an even more expensive dress, as if she couldn’t wait for everyone to see exactly who she stood beside now. The auction moved into its second half, and finally, the brooch was brought onto the stage. The moment I raised my paddle, Lina tugged lightly on Drake’s sleeve. “I like this one.” Drake didn’t even ask the price before he followed immediately. He patted her hand indulgently and raised his paddle again, yet his gaze slid toward me, openly provocative. “My girl likes it, Violet. Why don’t you let her have it?” My expression didn’t change. I turned slightly to my right-hand man. “Keep going.” The price climbed from a few thousand to nearly a million dollars. By then, the brooch had long lost its original value. It had become nothing more than a tool in the standoff between Drake and me. “Lock it,” Drake said lazily, pulling Lina closer into his arms. My aide leaned in, lowering his voice. “Ma’am, where did Drake get that kind of cash flow?” I smirked. “The final payment for that South American arms deal he reserved.” Then, I rose gracefully to my feet. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd below, I gave a slight nod, then turned and walked out without hesitation. “Ma’am, the brooch…” my right-hand man followed, asking in a low voice. I simply pressed a finger lightly to his lips and said softly, “Remember this. Objects are dead.” I never wanted the brooch. What I wanted was the gap in Drake’s funds that bidding for it would expose. That same night, I had my finance team and lawyers move at the same time, tracing the temporary funds he had pulled together. Sure enough, they uncovered something far dirtier. Behind the family’s back, Drake had been using the port’s shipping operations to launder money. Worst of all, that shipping route didn’t just lead to arms; it led to drugs. The Leon family had one iron rule: never touch drugs. It was a rule the Godfather had paid for with half his life, and anyone who broke it died. I stared at the accounts all night, and suddenly, that little game at the auction felt more than worth it. The next morning, I sent out wedding invitations to every family that had dealings with Drake, not to help him celebrate, but to draw the net around him. Chapter 5 The wedding was set for two days later. The venue was a newly built seaside estate on the north shore of Long Island, the same plot of land where the olive grove had once stood before it was cleared for construction. Every mafia family in New York received an invitation. To outsiders, this was Drake’s declaration of independence—his first grand event. It was a way to tell the world he was no longer just a blade raised by the consigliere, but a man capable of making his own rules. I didn’t stop it. In fact, I made sure the cash gifts, floral arrangements, and security details were handled flawlessly. My right-hand man didn’t understand. He asked if I was really planning to swallow this. I was sitting in front of my vanity mirror, trying on a pair of black lace gloves. When I heard that, I just smiled. “How could I possibly swallow it?” I said. “I just want him to stand a little higher… so the fall is harder.” The night before the wedding, I received a video. In it, Lina stood in a glass greenhouse with a Rottweiler at her side. She took my mother’s blue diamond necklace and fastened it around the dog’s neck. “Does it look good, Violet?” She even pulled out an old photo of my mother and stepped on it with her heel. Lina pressed her foot against the Rottweiler’s exposed belly and gave a command. “Violet. Roll. Good dog.” After the dog obeyed, she slapped it across the face. “Miss Violet. Violet really is such a good dog, isn’t she?” Lina laughed sweetly. “Look at this necklace. It suits her perfectly.” Then, she pulled out another photograph from her pocket—a yellowed black-and-white portrait of my mother when she was young. She shoved it onto the dog’s head, grinning with a mix of innocence and cruelty. “Violet, your mother’s back,” she said lightly. “And she’s kneeling at my feet, begging me. Aren’t you happy?” The dog rolled on the ground, eager to please. The edges of the photograph quickly curled and tore, bits of paper flaking off. Each step Lina took landed precisely on my mother’s face. “Cheap dog. Worthless trash,” she muttered, her voice sharp and venomous. “You’re dead, and you’re still haunting me.” The Rottweiler, as if beaten stupid, didn’t resist. Instead, it leaned forward to lick Lina’s palm, its tail wagging even faster. “That’s right, old woman. Wag that tail.” When the video ended, I replied with one message. “The wedding proceeds as planned.” The next afternoon, the wind picked up along the shore. Luxury cars lined the estate grounds. The priest, the band, and the guests were in place. Drake stood at the altar in a black suit, handsome in a way that felt almost staged, like a carefully packaged illusion. The guests praised him for his loyalty. They said he had the guts to cast aside me, the consigliere who built him, all for the sake of one woman. I stood in the shadows of the second-floor balcony, looking down at the crowd. For some reason, everything felt very quiet. When Drake looked up, he saw me. He thought I was here to ruin everything. There was even a flicker of caution in his eyes. However, I simply raised my glass and gestured to him from afar. For a brief moment, he froze. Just before the ceremony started, the emcee suddenly announced that the bride had prepared a special gift for the groom. The crowd stirred, turning toward the side of the stage where a few attendants pushed out an old-fashioned refrigerated container. Drake frowned, and as if he had sensed something, he started walking toward it. The moment the lid opened, there was no Lina inside or a body. Instead, the container was filled to the brim with ledgers, cassette recordings, wire transfer slips, keys to port warehouses, and a long-missing blue diamond brooch. The top sheet was stamped with a temporary asset preservation order issued by the New York Federal Court. The entire venue erupted. Drake snapped his head up, finally looking toward me on the second floor. Through the crowd, our eyes met, and I began to clap, slowly. “Your wedding gift,” I said. “Do you like it?”