The Mafia Princess Return (Talia) novel Chapter 262

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**The Mafia Princess Returns**

**Chapter 262**

**Arthur / Dad’s POV**

The swell of pride within me for my daughter is nothing short of monumental. Talia has consistently proven her mettle, emerging stronger with every challenge she faces. Today, as we stand on the precipice of a new era, I am certain this is the right path—not just for us, but for every smaller mafia that will soon come to understand the strength of our unity.

“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the new leader, the Donna Talia Bianchi, escorted by her father, Arthur Bianchi, alongside her loyal six: Kayden Miller, Bradley Grant, Ezra Driscoll, Carter Russell, Kai Ryder, and Levi Hensley.” The announcer’s voice boomed through the hall, a herald of the change that was about to unfold.

As we made our way down the stairs, the assembly remained standing, their hands coming together in applause, heads bowing in reverence to Talia. I could feel the weight of their respect, a palpable energy that enveloped us as we descended. It was a moment of transition, where the past met the future, and Talia was at the helm.

Once Talia settled into her seat among the former Dons of the mafias that had unified under this formidable banner, a hush fell over the room. Soon, plates of food were brought to our table, an elaborate spread that reflected the significance of the occasion.

Before Talia could dig into her meal, I discreetly nodded to one of her guards. Alan stepped forward, taking a sample of her food with a practiced ease. After a brief moment, he returned to his post, giving me a subtle nod of assurance. Only then did Talia begin to eat, her demeanor poised yet slightly apprehensive.

I caught her glancing at Kayden, curiosity etched on her face. “Why did Alan taste my food?” she inquired, a flicker of indignation in her eyes.

Kayden, ever the calm presence, explained, “It’s standard procedure, Talia. He checks for poison or allergens.”

Her gaze shifted to me, the hint of anger still simmering beneath the surface. I could sense her frustration at the protective measures I had put in place, but this was the new reality she needed to embrace.

As we enjoyed our meal, conversation flowed freely among us, punctuated by laughter and the occasional serious discussion. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, a blend of camaraderie and the weight of our shared history.

Once we finished eating, I noticed Leon making his way to the stage. A hush descended upon the crowd as he prepared to address us. “I know many of you are questioning the drastic decision to unite seven mafias into one,” he began, his voice steady and commanding. I scanned the room, catching the nods of agreement from various members.

“For too long, we have been plagued by the Irish mafia. Instead of fighting them, we have brought them into our fold. We have eradicated countless threats that have tormented us in numerous ways,” Leon continued, his words resonating deeply with the audience.

“The worst of these threats was none other than the top leader of the Irish mafia. Am I right?” Leon’s question was met with a chorus of affirmations from the crowd, voices rising in unison, echoing their shared resolve.