Mafia Betrayal: Her Escape From Darkness

rt. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a

idn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his eng

stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his

esk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days l

, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my

pte

Ross

e the cabin, the air was perfectly climate-controlled, thick with the scent of Dante's bespoke cold cedar cologne. The privac

tailored suit cuff. I was always touching him, a lingering habi

console. The screen lit up, flashing the name of

his broad shoulders toward the rain-streaked window, angling his body away from me.

e was detailing the logistics of an upcoming alliance, the merging of territo

n. He confirmed the date and time for his of

sting on his cuff, w

s in the middle of the night while he slept, desperate to understand the doctors, the muttered threats of his capos, the world he was navigating blindly. I wa

irect question about what to do with the "

hrough the leather seat. In a pure, thick Sicilian accent, he casually drop

he. Seven years ago, I had dragged his bleeding, broken body out of a burning building. He had gripped my soot-stained hands and sworn I was the only

the cold, calculating mafia boss was gone. In his pl

ay lock of black hair behind my ear. The motion was

ed it down. I forced my muscles to relax, letting my head lean into

th English. "There's an issue with the docks

ceal the absolute devastation-and the sudden,

and," I sa

. The electronic click of the door unlockin

rehead. The kiss had absolutely no warmth. It was

materialized on the street corner, snapping open a mas

didn't head toward any corporate building. He walked straigh

der the harsh glare of the streetlights, Sofia Moretti's delicate,

olls-Royce pulled away, taking a right turn, whi

use, Miss Rossi?" the driver

suddenly suffocating. It was trapped

I choked out.

even fully stopped, I shoved the door op

in. The physical shock of the cold was exactly what I needed. It dragged me back to reality. Growing up in the foster system,

holding an umbrella, shout

I waved my hand in a sharp

force me. He retreated to the car and drove off, l

. I walked two blocks until I found a rusted public payphone outside a closed bodega. Dant

out a few quarters. My fingers were n

had memorized years ago, a number I h

twice. A wom

e sound of the pouring rain. "I think we need to ta