BREAKING FREE: FALLING INTO THE MAFIA

LILY:

The shrill buzz of my phone startled me awake. Peeking at the screen, I saw the harsh red numbers: 9:00 pm. A groan escaped my lips. My parents had requested a "family discussion" by 10:00 pm, and dread coiled in my stomach. Throwing back the covers, I dragged myself out of bed. A rebellious spark flickered in my chest, a tiny flame against the suffocating weight of their expectations.

After a quick shower and a frantic search for something decent to wear, I decided to branch the kitchen to grab a yogurt on my way downstairs. As I tiptoed past the study door leading to the kitchen, muffled voices filtered through. Guests. Two men, their voices booming, bellies straining against their suits, and a woman whose clipped tones hinted at a steely personality. My parents flanked them, their faces unreadable.

Reaching the kitchen door, I caught the tail end of a hushed conversation between the maids.

Curiosity pricked me. I hesitated, then cautiously pressed my ear against the cool wood.

"We haven't even been paid for close to two months!" a voice hissed, laced with frustration. It was Maria, one of the maids.

"Isn't this a bit drastic?" another voice, younger and softer, replied. "Lily's practically a child."

"Oh please, she's turning twenty-two in a week. If anything, she's a spoiled brat," Maria scoffed. "If this marriage helps them out of debt, then so be it. Besides, I heard those men only accept..."

My heart hammered against my ribs. The words were faint, but the implication was clear. Virginity. They were selling me off to some rich, old lecher in exchange for their financial woes? Rage boiled within me, a white-hot fury that banished all fear.

Glancing at my phone – 9:45 pm – I knew I had to act fast. Escape. It was the only sane option. A plan, reckless and desperate, formed in my mind. Stealing a glance around, I saw my keys hanging by the door – my parents knew better than to take them away, fearing my "unladylike" desire for independence.

Slipping out the back door, the cool night air washed over me, a breath of fresh air compared to the suffocating atmosphere within my own home. I hailed a taxi, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "Inferno," I blurted out, the name of the city's most notorious nightclub tumbling out of my mouth.

The ride to Inferno was a blur of neon lights and city streets. Stepping out of the taxi, I felt a jolt of nervous excitement. My usual social circle consisted of quaint cafes and book clubs. Inferno was a world away, a world pulsating with a dangerous allure.

The bouncer, a mountain of a man with a shaved head and a scowl perpetually etched on his face, scrutinized me for a moment before glancing at the sleek black membership card dangling from my fingers. It was a gift from Kristine, my only truly rebellious friend. A silent, "thank you" echoed in my mind as I slipped past him and into the throbbing heart of the club.

The music assaulted me, a pulsating wave of bass and synthesized beats. Multicolored lights strobed, casting the room in a hypnotic haze. Bodies writhed on the dance floor, lost in a rhythmic frenzy. I felt a thrill of liberation, a sense of being out of control in the best way possible.

My initial bravado faltered as I scanned the crowded room. Everyone seemed to belong, lost in their own private world. Suddenly, I felt incredibly out of place. But then, I spotted him. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a dark brown mop of hair arranged so perfectly except the stray strand that fell down his face, a face that could only be described as nothing short of handsome, breath taking even. I don't think I'd seen a man look this good. He had this aura of authority around him and something more, maybe dangerous but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He looked well dressed in his three-piece suit and overcoat, odd, considering the fact that he was in a sea of writhing bodies, but then again, I wasn't exactly not guilty of that, all I had on was a shirt some jean shorts and flats. My hair was even up in a bun and I wonder how I must have looked in the bouncer's eyes. I turned to look at the handsome stranger again, he was struggling with a lighter, the flame refusing to catch.

An idea, reckless and impulsive, took root.

I ordered a bottle of wine and took a long good swig of it, pulled my hair down and took deep breaths to steady myself.

Snatching a spare lighter from the bar, I wove my way through the throng of bodies, the effects of the wine making my steps unsteady. Reaching him, I held out the lighter, a silent challenge in my eyes.

He turned, surprise flickering across his features before giving way to a slow, appreciative smile. Up close, his eyes held a glint of amusement, and a hint of something else – maybe curiosity, maybe a flicker of desire that made my stomach do a nervous flip.

"Thanks," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. The lighter flickered to life, the flame illuminating his face for a fleeting moment. He took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his head in a hazy halo.

"You're welcome," I managed, my voice barely a whisper. The alcohol was already emboldening me, turning my usual shyness into a reckless flirtatiousness I didn't quite recognize.

He studied me for a moment, a slow smile playing on his lips. The dim light couldn't hide the intensity in his gaze. "Lost?" he asked, his voice a husky murmur.

"Not exactly," I replied, swaying slightly on my feet. The smoky atmosphere, the thumping music, and the potent mix of emotions swirling within me were starting to take their toll.

He took a step closer, invading my personal space. His scent, a mix of cologne and expensive cigarettes, filled my senses. In that moment, the air crackled with unspoken energy, a tension I couldn't ignore.

"Then can I buy you a drink?" He offered, his voice a seductive rasp.

A dangerous thought flickered across my mind. It was reckless, impulsive, everything my parents wouldn't approve of. But right now, defiance tasted sweeter than anything I'd ever known.

"Actually," I leaned in closer, my voice barely above a whisper, "I was thinking something a little more... permanent.