Page 10 of Mafia Crown

A lump forms in my throat, but I push it down. Thinking about them won’t help. It’ll only make it harder to keep going.

The car jolts as the road turns to dirt, and the trees grow thicker, their branches arching overhead like a cage. My pulse quickens when the cabin comes into view.

It’s larger than most log cabins I’ve seen in this area, its dark wood exterior blending seamlessly into the forest. The windows are dark, the curtains drawn tight, and the yard...it’s too perfect. The grass trimmed, the flowers blooming in neat rows. A stark contrast to the wilderness surrounding it.

The minute the car stops, my captor steps out like he can’t stay one more moment in my presence, his movements fluid, purposeful. I stay frozen, my fingers still gripping the steering wheel.

“Get out,” he says, not looking back into the car; he just continues scanning the area.

I hesitate but take the keys out of the ignition, my stomach churning. Everything about this place screams danger. Isolation. A place no one would think to look.

As I climb out of the car, I finally get a good look at him. He towers over me, his broad shoulders cutting an intimidating silhouette against the fading light.

His face is harsh, all sharp angles and hard lines, but it’s the scar slicing across his cheek that draws my attention. It twists when he smirks, and I shiver involuntarily.

His eyes meet mine—icy blue and devoid of warmth. They lock onto me like a predator sizing up its prey, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

“What?” he asks in that voice that tells me he has his shit together, and I don’t.

“N-nothing,” I stammer, tearing my gaze away. But the chill in my veins lingers.

“Get your bag and the dog.” His voice is low but carries a sharp edge of authority. He glances around the forest again, his gaze slicing through the shadows, as though danger might emerge from the shifting branches. I look, too, the trees now looming like silent witnesses. A flicker of rebellion rises in me—I could run. Hide in the darkened hollows. But the thought is fleeting. I could never leave Charlie behind.

I pull the door open, and Charlie leaps out and protectively stays at my side. He doesn’t bark, doesn’t stray; his instincts mirror my unease. With my bag in one hand, I step forward, the damp earth muffling my reluctant footsteps.

The cabin looms ahead, its silhouette stark against the moonlight, and I follow him to the front steps, each one creaking beneath our weight. Without hesitation, he reaches above the doorframe, fingers groping until they find their mark. A key emerges from the shadows, and he slots it into the lock with practiced ease. The door swings open, the groan of wood replaced by the sharp snap of a switch. Light floods the small space, harsh and unyielding. I squint against it, my eyes stinging, still tuned to the comforting murk of the night.

Inside, the air is heavy, stale, carrying the faint scent of cedar and something metallic, like blood left to dry, or maybe that’s the fear in me. I step in, and behind me, the door slams shut, the sound reverberating in my chest like a gunshot. Then comes the unmistakable turn of the lock. My heart plummets.

I spin around, panic clawing its way up my throat. “Why are you locking it?” The words tremble as they leave my lips. It’s a stupid question. I’m his captive, he told me as much.

“For your safety,” he says with the kind of detached calm that makes my skin crawl. The words are rehearsed, hollow. But it’s the curl of his mouth—the flicker of amusement in his eyes—that shatters the facade.

I take a step back, the weight of the room pressing in on me. The windows are covered with thick, heavy curtains. I’m scanning the room for a TV, landline, laptop, anything with a connection to the outside world, but I come up empty.

My breathing turns shallow, the realization hitting like a punch to the gut. I’m in a cage, and I’ve trapped Charlie here with me. Without thought, I sink low until my arm wraps around Charlie, and I inhale his scent. It brings me a calm that seems to be obliterated at the moment.

When I rise, my captor is gone, and for a moment, hope flickers in my chest. He would never expect me to bolt so quickly. The smarter part of me says to wait, but I’m already moving toward the door. Charlie follows close behind, the clicking of his toenails on the wooden floor sending my shoulders up to my ears as I try to block out the sound. I have the car keys; he never took them from me.

My hand brushes the doorknob.

“Going somewhere?”

His voice is quiet, almost lazy, but it freezes me in place. Slowly, I turn, my heart thundering.

He leans casually against the doorframe, a red apple in his hand, a large bite already missing. His calm demeanor is far more terrifying than anger.

“I... I wasn’t—” I begin, but he cuts me off with a raised hand.

“Don’t.” His eyes narrow, a faint smirk curling his lips. “You’re smarter than that. Or at least, I thought you were.” He takes another bite of the apple, almost finishing it, and pushes off the doorframe.

Dear God, why does he have to be so huge compared to me? I can’t let his size intimidate me.

“I’m not staying here,” I snap, my voice louder than I intended. “I want answers. Now.”

My mind is at war with itself. On one hand, I know I’m lucky to be alive. That’s why I went along with his insane plan to take me captive—it meant survival. But now that I’m here, it’s terrifying.

His expression darkens, but there’s something else in his gaze—amusement? Frustration? He takes a slow step forward, and I fight the urge to back away.

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