Get the APP hot
Home / Adventure / In the shadow of the mafia king
In the shadow of the mafia king

In the shadow of the mafia king

5.0
5 Chapters
Read Now

About

Contents

Rihanna, a talented young woman in the world of dance, finds herself in the sights of Marco "The King" Moretti, a feared and respected mafia godfather. As she tries to make her mark in a prestigious ballet school, she becomes involved in a drug trafficking scheme. She is rescued by Marco after a confrontation with dealers who seek to intimidate her. Touched by her talent and determination, Marco decides to take her under his wing and protect her. Over time, a complex relationship develops between them; Marco acts as a mentor and protector, but he also becomes possessive. As Rihanna immerses herself in the bright yet dangerous world of the mafia, she uncovers secrets about Marco's past, as well as the true reasons that led him to save her. Faced with rivalries within the mafia and external threats, Rihanna must decide whether she wants to continue living in Marco's shadow or take her destiny into her own hands, whatever the consequences may be.

Chapter 1 Rihanna's Dream

In the vibrant heart of Paris, where the cobblestones tell stories of art and passion, lived a young woman named Rihanna Morel. At twenty, she seemed enveloped in an inner light, the kind that only true artists possess. Her world was rhythmically punctuated by leaps, pliés, and the music that resonated between the walls of her small apartment in the Marais. Far from luxury, this modest space nonetheless breathed the soul of a dreamer.

Posters of famous ballerinas adorned the walls, mirrors lined the living room transformed into a rehearsal space, and an old record player crackled with the notes of a slightly worn Swan Lake.

She shared this cocoon with her mother, Élise Morel, a former star of the Paris ballet, who had once dazzled European stages. Élise was beautiful like a Greek tragedy, with delicate features, chestnut hair pulled into a perfect bun, and a gaze that was both gentle and piercing. Her career had come to a sudden halt due to a knee injury, an accident she spoke of little, preferring to pass on her art to children in a small studio in the neighborhood. Between her and Rihanna, love was strong, but sometimes tinged with tension: Élise unconsciously projected her broken dreams onto her daughter.

That morning, the golden light of spring filtered through the lace curtains, caressing the worn planks of the floor. Rihanna, already up since dawn, warmed up in silence. She wore a black leotard that outlined her slender silhouette, and her feet clad in ballet slippers glided effortlessly across the floor. In front of the mirror, she executed the movements with fierce precision. Plié. Relevé. Arabesque. Her body knew the routine, but her mind was elsewhere.

Today was not an ordinary day. This morning, she was to go to the city's ballet school to register for the annual entrance competition, scheduled for a few days later. A unique opportunity. Only the most talented were selected, and the competition was fierce. Every year, hundreds of young dancers dreamed of this prestigious school, a symbol of success and recognition. Rihanna had dreamed of it since she was ten.

She paused for a moment, hands on her hips, breathless, overwhelmed by a mix of excitement and apprehension. Her gaze met her mother's, standing in the doorway with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

"You're already up, my dear?" said Élise with a tender smile.

Rihanna nodded. "I wanted to be ready. Today, I'm going to register for the competition."

Élise entered the room and placed the cup on a small table. She observed her daughter for a few seconds, visibly moved.

"Do you remember the first time you put on ballet shoes?" she asked. "You were barely five, but you danced as if you were born to do it."

Rihanna smiled, her eyes shining. "I remember. You taught me to turn without falling."

"And today, you are about to dance alone, in front of a formidable jury..." murmured Élise, as if to herself. Then she collected herself. "You are ready, Rihanna. You have everything it takes."

But despite these reassuring words, Rihanna felt the knot of anxiety growing in her stomach. She looked down.

"And what if I can't do it? What if I'm eliminated in the first round?"

Élise approached and placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Look at me. You have talent. You have passion too. But what makes the difference is your ability to believe in yourself. The rest will come."

Rihanna took a deep breath, absorbing the words like a balm. She turned to the mirror, met her own gaze, and saw a new determination in her eyes. It was time.

After a quick shower and a breakfast of fruit and tea, she dressed in black jeans, a fitted beige coat, and a pastel scarf around her neck. Her mother kissed her on the cheek before wishing her good luck.

"Don't forget, the registration form is at the administration desk of the school. You will also need to leave a video of yourself dancing. You recorded it well, didn't you?"

Rihanna tapped her bag. "Everything is ready. Video, medical certificate, ID photo... I checked three times."

She descended the stairs of their building, smiling at Madame Lemoine, the neighbor on the ground floor, before stepping out onto the street. The fresh morning air whipped her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the rustle of the waking city. Paris was beautiful at this hour. Cafés unfurled their terraces, bicycles cut through the streets, and the smell of warm croissants floated in the air.

She took the line 1 metro towards Bastille, her heart racing. In the train, she observed the passengers, faces absorbed in their upcoming day. She imagined each with a secret dream, a hidden passion. And she, she had dance. It was more than a dream. It was a necessity.

Upon arrival, she walked to the entrance of the Parisian Academy of Ballet. The building, majestic, dominated the square with its ancient columns and stained-glass windows in the shape of arabesques. Just laying eyes on the golden sign made her legs tremble.

Inside, silence reigned, broken only by muffled footsteps and bursts of voices from distant studios. Rihanna followed the signs to the administration. A blonde secretary in a navy blue suit looked up from her computer.

"Hello, I'm here to register for the entrance competition," said Rihanna, her voice trembling.

The woman handed her a form. "Fill this out, and drop your application in the blue box behind me. You will receive a summons email in two days. The audition is scheduled for May 5th, in our large studio. Good luck."

May 5th. In exactly five days. Rihanna felt her throat tighten. It was so close.

She carefully filled out each field of the form, reread it twice, and dropped the whole thing in the box. Once outside, she leaned against a bench, letting the emotion wash over her. She had done it. She was registered.

Her phone vibrated. A message from her mother: "So?"

She replied with a simple: "It's done. Audition on May 5th."

Then she put her phone away and looked up at the sky. It was beautiful. The kind of day where everything seems possible. She had only one mission: to practice, again and again. Perfecting every movement, every expression. She wanted to be ready. She had to be.

Continue Reading
img View More Comments on App
Latest Release: Chapter 5 The Savior   04-23 03:03
img
MoboReader
Download App
icon APP STORE
icon GOOGLE PLAY