Page 14 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

“I have a job, a life. I haven’t done anything wrong, I promise you. Whatever it is you think I know, I don’t. I haven’t even completed my residency yet. I’m a nobody, I promise you.”

He steps closer again, bringing his cigar to his lips and, this time, leans close so that I can smell the smoke in his breath.

“You see this scar?” he taps the jagged line on his face. “You know where I got it?” I shake my head and swallow the lump in my throat. I’m too terrified to speak.

“The boss gave it to me,” he says. “Yeah, that’s right. He’s not the man you think he is. And let me tell you something, sweetheart. If I let you go, he’ll kill us both. He won’t hesitate.”

My breath catches in my throat. I can’t wrap my head around how it happened or why… or if Ezra is truly capable of killing someone. He straightens up, taking another drag from his cigar.

“The Don doesn’t play games, sweetheart. And neither do I. The sooner you tell the truth, the better off you’ll be.”

Don…as in mafia don?

My legs give out, and I sink to the floor, tears streaming down my face.

The man turns to leave, pausing at the door to look back at me. “Get some rest,” he says with an evil smirk. “You’re gonna need it.”

The door slams shut, and I’m left alone in the darkness. I hug my knees to my chest, my body shaking with sobs. How did everything go so wrong? Just a few hours ago, I was heading home from work after a long day. A regular woman with a regular life.

And now I’m trapped in this nightmare with no way out. Ezra… How could I have been so wrong about him? The man who made me feel so special is actually a monster. A monster who might kill me.

I close my eyes, tears still spilling down my cheeks. I have to find a way out of this. I have to survive. But how? How can I, when the only person who knows where I am is the very man who put me here?

I glance around the cramped, smelly cell. There’s nothing here—no way out. Just a tiny window high up on the wall, far out of reach.

I'm still staring at the wall when footsteps echo from the hallway. I quickly wipe the tears from my eyes. The door creaks open, and my stomach drops when I see who it is—Ezra.

He's striding like a king— a hand in a pocket and a well-ironed white long-sleeve shirt. His hair is slicked back and shiny, a stark contrast to what I’d seen that night.

In this dark place, the strands of white glint against the dark strands, adding to his ethereal lo– No. This man has the fucking audacity to look calm and collected when he’s kidnapped me.

Whatever prior feelings I had for him suddenly give way to a rush of anger. “You bastard!” I yell with every ounce of energy I have left in me. “I regret ever meeting you!”

Ezra’s face remains cold, unmoved by my words. “Likewise,” he replies, his tone flat and detached.

He steps closer, holding up a cellphone in front of me. There’s a picture on the screen—a man I’ve never seen before, grinning like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Tell me what you know about this man.” He digs one hand into his pocket.

Here we go again. Asking questions I have no answer to.

I glance at him, taking in the deadly look in his eyes as his fingers seem to clutch the phone tighter. Releasing a small breath, I continue to glance at the screen. The man has blonde hair, paleskin, and blue eyes. He seems chubby, too. I can guess they’re most likely from the same world.

But of course, I can’t tell him anything because I don’t know him. Ezra, though, wouldn’t want that…and I seem to be running out of time. I can tell from the pulsing movements of his fingers against the screen.

I gulp, scratching the back of my neck. “I… I know he smokes an unhealthy amount of tobacco. His teeth are turning brown.” Ezra’s eyes narrow into thin slits, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he lowers the phone to stare at me.

Uh, oh.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His hand leaves his pocket and clenches into a fist by his side.

“N— no,” I stammer, my heart thudding in my chest. “I swear, I don’t know him.”

I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but then what fucking difference would it make.

His jaw ticks, his nostrils flaring in obvious anger. “The man in the picture claimed you gave him information about the shipment.” His voice is chillingly calm. “So don’t lie to me.”

Shipment?

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