My dear little broccoli 💚💚💚

💚 So this is the sequel to The Boss's Daughter. If you did not read this story yet, you should, or you will be lost in what is happening here.

💚 I have no idea how long this story is going to be, and how often I will update. As I told you on the previous story, I started a new job that takes a lot of my time, and I also need to balance with my personal life. So the updates will come when they will, though I will try to do long chapters on this one.

💚 The story is already done in my head, and it will be from Clary's point-of-view, mostly. We will get a few Kaelie's and Valentine's, but I don't think Jace will have a part in this story, just like Clary didn't have one in the previous one.

💚 And remember, Jace is five years older than Clary, and this story sets place in the Mafia world. The rating M isn't just about lemons but also about some theme that some of you might find hard. So you've been warned, don't complain about any of that. Hehe

💚 Without further ado, here is the prologue. Shorter but necessary. This prologue will work a bit like the one of the previous story. It is a sneak peek of what is to come, but unlike Jace's story, it will not come back at the end of the story, but in the middle…

Love, Mina 💚💚💚

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Prologue: (0,5K)

Clary's PoV

Clary woke up with her head pounding and her heart aching. She struggled to open her eyes, her tears from the previous night having dried to salt and making it difficult for her to see the light of the day. Without great conviction or will, she sat up in the clinical bed that brought her so much sorrow, doing her best to hold the new tears coming her way as she remembered her sorrows of the previous day, and she glanced at the chair where her husband had been sitting the previous night, not saying a word and watching her cry herself to sleep.

A lump grew in her throat when she found it empty, without any note for her to assure her that he would be back soon. She was alone. All alone once more, because she wasn't strong enough. At this moment, she would have given anything to be anyone else, to never had experienced this pain. She would rather be a poor girl without a penny to her name, she would rather be a suburban wife with bills and mortgages drowning her, she would rater be a naked Amazonian who knew nothing of the modern society and thought of planes as metal birds than be herself.

This was the second time she had to go through this pain, and it was even worse than the first time. This time she had hope, and it had been snatched away from her at the cruellest moment.

She curled on herself, crying over herself and wondering what was wrong with her. Why couldn't she be like everybody else? Why, of all the things, this was what was denied to her? And why did she have to go through this alone once again?

She was married! Her husband was supposed to love her, through sickness and health! But he wasn't here. He didn't even hold her last night. He let her cry on her own, though there was more than enough space on that ridiculously large and soulless bed. He went back to his own life and left her all alone in the morning as if nothing happened.

Did he expect her to smile at him when she would see him again? Did he plan to pretend that nothing ever happened? Did he even care? She knew he loved her, but maybe the recent developments of their situation made him reevaluate that statement and think he would be better off without her. Maybe he wanted someone normal, after all.

As she kept on crying her heart out, her thoughts getting darker and darker by the minute, the door to her room opened, and revealed her father, with a pained expression on his face. He had been away for the last couple of days, and she tried to smile, because, despite her sorrows, she was happy to see him, but she never managed to turn her lips in the proper curve.

"Oh, sweetheart," Valentine said, walking to his daughter, and taking her in his arms as soon as she was at arm's length.

Clary burst into loud tears, sobbing in her father's comforting embrace, not caring that she was not a child anymore and simply crying her heart out to the man who had always been there for her, for as long as she could remember.

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.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.

💚Your thoughts and opinions are always welcomed💚

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💚 So, here we go, let's get ready for this new story. I am rather excited, but before we dive into the lives of this Clary and Jace once again, I just want to state a few things:

~ Life is crazy at the moment, so I will do collective answers at the end of each chapter. I know I always took the time to answer to each and every one of you, but I honestly don't have the time anymore. But don't let that stop you from reviewing. I do take a lot of my free time to write this story, and it is always nice to know what you guys are thinking or speculating. (For those who just want a chat, I am more present on WhatsApp)

~ Before any of you starts saying that either Jace or Clary seem out of character, remember that we are switching narrative, and therefore perspective. We will see both Clary and Jace through Clary's eyes.

~ I would like it, if, throughout the story, you remembered who Jace is, and how he was in the first story. Remember, this is Clary's tale, and we don't know much how she perceived Jace in the first story.

💚 Now, I can't wait to read your ideas and speculation about what is going to happen in this story3, and what happened to Clary in this prologue …

💚 By the way, about the story I will be working on, you need to vote on my profile, so I can follow the majority. The voting ends on 15-02-2019. So go and vote.

Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the names of the characters from the Mortal Instruments franchise, everything else is mine.

Love, Mina 💚💚💚