Page 29 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

“Boss,” Elio calls, and I turn. “I think we have to listen to him. We have to cancel the deal tonight.”

Elio’s words don't make it any easier. My breathing comes out in short pants as I glance from Elio to Miller. Elio’s expression gives nothing but a hard resolve, while Miller’s expression is a mix of concern and fear.

Running a hand through my hair, I let myself breathe until the rhythm of my chest feels stable.

Apart from the sound of men working and vans roaring to life, there’s nothing but silence in this room. Never have I had to stopan operation because of the force… and I swear this will be the last time.

I raise my eyes to Elio before breaking the silence.

“Stop the vans.”

Chapter nine

Raven

The walls seem to be closing in on me as I wait. My heart thuds against my chest, my breath trapping occasionally in my throat. The anticipation is killing me.

I woke up today with a resolve. I’m done being stuck in this room. I’m done being locked up in a mansion like some fairytale princess.

Right now, I stand by the door, gripping my bedside lamp in a tight hold. I have been in this mansion long enough to figure out when my meals arrive. From what I know, the guard — whoever it is— comes in thrice.

Since there's no clock here, I use other sensory details to tell time. My first meal comes in the morning, around nine a.m. The second meal comes when the sun is at its brightest and hottest,around one p.m., give or take. And dinner comes in at night, around eight or nine p.m.

For three days, I’ve been thinking of ways to escape. Every plan I came up with was either unreasonable or simply too far-fetched. But last night, while in bed, I came up with one. The plan is simple— ambush him with the lamp, grab his gun, and make a run for it. So here I am, in the early hours of the afternoon, waiting to attack the guard who will bring my lunch.

Will I make it far, considering the other guards spread throughout the mansion and at the gates? I’m not sure, but with the weapon I’ll steal, I should be fine.

Well, at least I’m trying.

I hold my breath as the thought of firing a gun briefly crosses my mind, and I almost falter. I’ve never even held one in my hands before, let alone fired one, but a girl's got to survive.

I’ve seen people do it in movies. It's simple… turn off the safety and pull the trigger thingy… I hope.

Tucking the uncertainties to the back of my mind, I plant my feet and ready myself. As time passes, I get second thoughts, but again, I discard them. Seconds drag into minutes, and then...I hear the familiar footfalls approach the door. I reposition my fingers on the lamp as a surge of adrenaline sweeps my body.

It’s time.

As soon as the door swings open, the guard’s burly figure fills the entrance, and I go for it. I raise the lamp and strike, whipping my hand hard against my target. To my dismay, it crashes onto his shoulder.

The tray of food in his hand scatters its contents all over the floor in a loud crash. My eyes widen at the mess as I hadn’t considered the noise, but I don’t relent and I raise my hand again to smash the lamp against his head this time. The guard, however, instantly regains his footing.

Being the genius that I am, I did not take into consideration the height difference between us. I’m five foot six, and this man is well over six feet. There is no way the lamp would have connected with his head.

My heart slashes in my chest as he grabs my wrist in a firm grip, pressing against my wrist before yanking the lamp off me.

Shit.

His face is angry, boiling even, when I look at it.

Pressing my second palm against his chest, I try to force myself out of his grip, but it’s no use. So much for my survival skills.

The ruckus garners the attention of the other guards, who look on in amusement as the guard pins me in my position. It may be funny to the onlookers, but it is unfortunate for me. I’ve failed yet again.

“You should not have done that,” the guard sneers and roughly flings me on the bed. He shuts the door behind him, and I hear the familiar click.

Huffing in exasperation, I bring a hand to roughly run my fingers down my hair. I failed so miserably.

So this is my life now—a rag doll thrown about wherever Ezra wishes. I instantly shake my head at the thought. This cannot be how I spend the rest of my life.

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