Table of Contents
Prologue
Playlist
Rosalina
Anthony
Coming March 2018
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Pretty Killer
La Asesina Bonita #1
Michelle Brown
Edited by
Courtney McDaniel
Copyright © 2018 by Michelle Brown
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in the work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Dedication
To my husband, thank you for supporting my dreams.
To all of you that are told you can’t follow your dreams, because you can.
Contents
Playlist
Prologue
1. Rosalina
2. Rosalina
3. Anthony
4. Rosalina
5. Rosalina
6. Rosalina
7. Anthony
8. Rosalina
9. Rosalina
10. Rosalina
11. Rosalina
12. Rosalina
13. Anthony
14. Rosalina
15. Rosalina
16. Rosalina
17. Rosalina
18. Anthony
19. Rosalina
Coming March 2018
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Playlist
Sell My Soul - Seether
Scream My Name - Tove Lo
Let Me Heal - Seether
I’ll Survive - Seether
Hit Me Like A Man - Pretty Reckless
You Don’t Own Me - Grace
Castle - Halsey
Nobody Praying For Me - Seether
Something Else - Seether
Mad Hatter - Melanie Martinez
Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande
Hold Me Down - Halsey
Body Say - Demi Lovato
Let Go - Hollywood Undead
Lost It - Atreyu
The Fighter - In This Moment
Bloody Creature Poster Girl - In This Moment
Not In Love - Natalia Kills
Hypnotic - Zella Day
The Darkness Within - Digital Daggers
stranger - Tove Lo
Prologue
My name is Rosalina Maria Velasquez. Otherwise known as "La Asesina Bonita" which means The Pretty Killer, but you can call me, Rosalina Maria. I wasn't always a killer. I was just your average naive eight-year-old girl, that is until I saw my fifteen-year-old sister raped and my brother, her twin, murdered in cold blood. You see, I am the daughter of the most powerful man in Mexico. My father has been "El Jefe", the boss for as long as I can remember.
My parents were away the night those men came into our home and destroyed our family. A traitor let them inside so they could kill our family, not knowing that it was only us children home while our parents went on a surprise date night. I could hear our sister Flora screaming while the men tore at her clothes and held her down. They sneered at me while they rammed themselves deep inside her mouth and cunt telling me, tú eres el próxima, I was next. My brother Feliciano ran into the room at that moment,but he never saw the bullet coming. I did. I saw the man turn toward the door, and before I could utter a word he shot my brother in the chest. I just stood there transfixed, watching Feliciano's breaths slow while hearing my sister continue to scream and cry out for someone to help her.
I saw a glint of something in Feliciano's hand. A gun? Since when did he have a gun? No one seemed to be paying attention to me because I was just a small girl. They obviously didn’t know much about my father and his ways since I always kept a knife strapped to my calf. It was a hazard of growing up in a mafia family and having it repeatedly told to me to always keep a weapon on me. I crept quietly to him while the rest of the men were focused on Flora. Grabbing Feliciano's gun, I tucked it into the waist of my pajama pants and prepared for the worst. I don’t know what happened to set off the alarm on the grounds, but they were blaring when they finally kicked on. One of the men turned to where I was standing and grabbed me by the ponytail I kept my long hair in and snatched me to him.
"The puta is mine," he told the other men as they began to escape out the door while he dragged me by my hair.
I can't say why I finally acted, but I did. I pulled out my knife and I stabbed him right in the back. Exactly how my father had told me to do it at his kidney. I pulled the knife out and I stabbed him again and again until he didn't move anymore and his body fell to the floor. The other men never saw what happened since the guards swarmed the hallway about that time. One of the few things I can remember is being covered in his blood while my father Ricardo questioned me on what happened. The look he gave me when I told him that I did it so he couldn't hurt anyone anymore was one I will never forget - a mix of disbelief and shock.
I still remember the gunshots and the screams even though it's been twelve years since that night. My sister never did recover from the rape. She killed herself about a year later. One of those men had gotten her pregnant, but she miscarried and it was all too much too handle. My father sent me away after that. He told me that he needed me to learn how to defend myself and to be safe away from his dealings.
Now I'm back and I'm the killer he made me.
1
Rosalina
The last time I saw my parents was three years ago. I remember that day fondly, I had just officially graduated from my training at Trident Weapons. I had been at Trident Weapons for a total of four years learning all that I could about how to shoot to kill, cause pain, and how to use every weapon available to man. Now I was finally home. Only this time I wouldn't be seeing my mother or father alive. I had gotten the call a couple of days ago from Roman, my father's right hand, they had died in a car accident while on one of their date nights. Smiling to myself at the idea that even after being married for thirty-four years, Papa still took the time away from the business for Mama. There were no tears left to cry though, I had done that the first night. Now it was time to pick up the pieces of our family business. The first step in picking up said pieces was to inform all the men they now worked for me.
I took one last cleansing breath and opened the door to my father's office. Roman had gathered all of the men here to tell them the news, my father had verbally named me, Rosalina Maria Velasquez, the next head of the Spanish mafia. As the door shut behind me and I began to walk – my heels clicking on the floor − all eyes slowly turned to me. Well at least I dressed to make an impression, I thought to myself. I had decided to wear a solid black knee-length dress, and my
hair up high in a ponytail to keep it off my neck in this horrendous heat. My heels though, those were my favorite pair of scarlet red Bianca platforms by Louboutin. I wasn't overly girly in the sense that I needed material things, but shoes were a weakness not even I could overcome.
"No es el lugar para una mujer," this is no place for a woman, some asshole called out to me.
Quirking my eyebrow at Roman, I looked over at the man in question and responded, "This is no place for a puto either.”
Stalking over to me like a big man on campus he asked "Who the fuck are you?”
Smirking right at him I simply said, "La Jefa. That's right gentlemen I'm the new boss,” I said clasping my hands together in front of me.
The room was deathly silent before he burst out in laughter. Well fuck. I guess Roman hadn't told them yet. This was going to be fun. He put his hand on my shoulder and attempted to turn me towards the door. He. Put. His. Hand. On. Me. That was a huge no-go for me. No one had laid a hand on me since that night twelve years ago unless I allowed them to.
"Remove your hand or I will do it for you," I gritted out through my clenched teeth.
He just continued to laugh like a madman. Oh well, I warned him. Roman could barely get a word out before I kneed ‘mister asshole' - as I was now calling him in my mind - in the groin and then used my knee to break his nose. Before anyone could make it over to help him, I grabbed the knife I had strapped to the inside of my thigh and held it next to his exposed throat. "Now that I have everyone's attention. You can call me, ma'am, boss, or Rosalina Maria."
Roman cleared his throat so that the attention was averted back to him for a moment, "As I was about to say, Ricardo named his daughter Rosalina the next boss before he passed. Anyone that does not approve of this change will be allowed to leave now. Otherwise, we expect your loyalty to the family name to remain the same."
With a nod toward both Roman and I, it was decided that the men would remain loyal to not only the family name, but a woman leading them. With one last look at the men gathered in the room, I turned on my heel and began walking to the car parked out front. We had a funeral to attend.
The drive to the cemetery was long and quiet. I didn't have any family to ride with me since I was the only living child of Ricardo and Florinda Velasquez. We had asked that my uncle and his family not attend since it would be a short service and an easy target for anyone with a vendetta. Roman was riding in the same car as me but he sat in the front, separated by the partition along with the driver. I didn't need a guard seeing as I was better trained than all of them, which surprised the men back at the house when we left. Of course, that was to be expected as my father had placed me in weapons and combat training at the age of ten. After Flora committed suicide he didn't ever want me to be unable to protect myself.
Placing my mother's rosary in my hand, Roman helped me out of the car. Looking down at the tiny crucifix in my palm I thought to myself, this is it, time to show them that the boss doesn't cry. The priest moved along quickly through the rosary prayers. It had been so long since I’d been to church on Sunday that I hadn't realized how long these prayers actually took. Thankfully, we were soon on our way back to the car where we could discuss business in private.
"Roman, ride in the back with me. We have business to discuss," I said to Roman.
"¿Seguro que eres señora?" Roman asked me as if I would say something without meaning it. Cocking my head to the side, I simply said yes and slid into the car.
I’d instructed Roman to gather a detailed report for me on the shipments of weapons that had gone out in the last quarter versus what we were scheduled to move out in the next month. I didn't want any gap in the production of weapon supplies as a result of my parents’ death. Moving on with business was something my father had instilled in me at a young age. I still remember hearing him say after Feliciano and Flora died that if there is a lack of activity then your adversaries think you are weak. I am not weak. As a woman, I would have to prove it to not only my men, but the rest of the mafia families.
Pulling his file out of the briefcase that he had left in the car during the funeral, Roman began handing me copies of invoices. As he explained to me that two of our regulars had decided not to work with us anymore because they didn't "trust" a woman to know quality weapons when she saw them, all I could do was simply nod. Fuck them, I thought to myself, I will show them just how much this woman does know. Closing the files in my lap I noticed that Roman had gotten especially quiet.
"What is the problem Roman?"
He told me, "Nada señora. Your father left this for you in my care." He handed me an envelope with my childhood nickname - Rosie - written in my father's handwriting on the front.
Swallowing back the tears I was fighting to keep anyone from seeing, I opened the envelope. Inside was something I thought I had lost when I was twelve. I’d come home to visit and my mother had given me her locket that held a picture of Flora and Feliciano on one side and one of my father and me on the other. Smiling to myself, I opened it to find the pictures had been changed. Now instead of my father and I, the picture was the three of us at my weapons graduation three years ago.
Rosie,
If Roman has given this letter to you then I am no longer alive. I am sorry I was not a better father to you. I hope to make up for that with the precautions I have taken to protect you. I'm sure you will not understand at first, but this was necessary. I have made arrangements with the Cubans. Your contact will be the son of Fernando, he is the heir to the Cuban mafia. His name is Anthony and he will be there soon. I instructed him to be there as soon as word got out that I was gone. He will offer you a business proposal. Please listen and consider what he says, Rosalina.
Te Amõ, Papa
Confusion clear on my face, I turned to look at Roman. As my father's right hand, he would know exactly who this Anthony was and what my father had done. Tilting my head in the clear indication he should start speaking, I just waited for Roman to find his words while he read the letter for himself.
"Jefa, I swear your father has not confided in me about that letter. He only told me he had made arrangements with the Cubans."
"Roman, do you really expect me to believe that?"
I hoped that if Roman thought I didn't believe that he didn’t know exactly what my father had planned then he would give me some clue as to what this arrangement was. Roman stood his ground though, he had no clue. Now we had to wait for this Cuban named Anthony to show up. Somehow my father knew that he was going to be gone soon. I would be finding out exactly what happened and why my father thought to plan ahead.
2
Rosalina
The rest of the drive back to the house was made in complete silence which was not what I wanted at all. Silence gave me time to think and that meant I had time to remember what having family felt like. I needed to move, to burn off some excess steam in some way. When we parked I made a beeline for my room to change into my workout gear. My father had a gym and a gun range behind the house since my mother had always despised having the men traipsing inside with their weapons and waking us at all hours of the night.
As soon as I walked into the gym I caught a glimpse of the Parkour ramps my father had installed back when I was fourteen and had just begun to learn it. I was still amazed that he actually took the time to have this built for me considering I never spent more than a few days home during my youth. Thinking about the challenging workout that was coming, I smiled to myself and took off at a run towards the first set of ramps and jumps, then I was flying through the air in the next moment. It had been so long since I’d even attempted to do this course. Thankfully, in addition to Parkour training, my father had me take on gymnastics otherwise I would have broken something after all of these years.
The door opened and a hush fell over the room, so I knew I needed to be attentive to who’d arrived. Glancing over my shoulder I saw Roman walk in with a man I had never seen before. He was handsome. Standing roughly
5'8" with clean-cut black hair, he was every woman's wet dream. Roman and the man in question looked in my direction about that time, and I then realized how sweaty I was. Cringing to myself, I toweled off my neck the best I could as I made my way over to do whatever business this was going to be.
"Hola señora, mi nombre es Anthony." I put my hand in his to shake as if we were longtime business partners.
"Hola Anthony, soy Rosalina Maria. What can I help you with today?"
With a deep sexy laugh, he simply said, “I’m here to help the boss, not for you to help me.”
"Anthony, I am quite sweaty so I will meet you in my office in twenty minutes to discuss this help you think I need," I said with finality as I walked away from the arrogant prick to my room to change into the Mafia Queen I was.
Sending Roman a quick message to pull up all the information available on this Anthony man in the next fifteen minutes, I went about dressing in heels and simple dress. If there was one thing my father taught me when I was younger it was that looks could be deceiving. Looking like an innocent, domesticated woman did not mean I couldn't kill a man with my bare hands all while never breaking a heel. Appearing that way was one of my greatest defenses and one of the biggest challenges I had faced growing up in a man's world.
Letting the door shut behind me, I looked up from the file that Roman had delivered to my room. Roman and Anthony were already in my office waiting for me to arrive. All it took was one look and a simple head nod for Roman to understand this meeting was going to happen in private. Confusion clear on Anthony's face as he watched Roman leave, he began to speak but I quickly silenced him.
Pretty Killer Page 1
