Page 16 of Mafia Kingdom

I shake my head, my jaw set. "It’s too risky.”

She falls silent, staring out the window.

We drive on in silence, the city lights blurring past.

We arrive at my home, a place I’ve never brought anyone before. The house looms ahead, a fortress of security. Its size and grandeur are impressive, but I see Sasha’s eyes widen with something akin to fear. When the car comes to a stop inside the garage, she doesn’t move until I walk around and open the door for her.I don’t stand back, and when she gets out, we are almost chest to chest; a blush creeps up her cheeks, and when she looks up at me with wide green eyes, she quickly ducks under my arm. I hide a grin at her reaction to my closeness. I close the car door. She stands close to the entryway of the house, but she won’t meet my gaze.

Once we are in the kitchen, she folds her arms across her chest, her gaze darting around the large open space. The interior is stunning, every detail meticulously designed, and I like watching her take in my home. I turn away and drop my keys and phone on the counter beforeI take off my coat. I noticeSasha’s eyes fixate on my shoulder. I glance down to see blood staining the fabric. Using my fist during the fight must have pulled some of my stitches, but it was worth it to break Dave’s nose.

"Come on," I say, leading her down a long hallway. "You can stay here tonight."

She follows, her steps hesitant. I push open the door to a spacious guest room. All she wants is to be with her dad, but that can’t happen.

“If you need anything, just let me know,” I say, trying to sound reassuring as I think of my father’s missed call.

“And tomorrow, I can go home?” Sasha asks, her voice small and hopeful.

I meet her gaze, but I can’t give her the answer she wants. There’s something in my eyes that must betray my thoughts. I can see the disappointment in her face.

“Get some rest,” I say instead, turning to leave. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

As I walk out, closing the door behind me, I feel a pang of guilt. I’m doing this to protect her, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I head to the kitchen and pick up my phone, hitting the dial button.

“Hi, Dad,” I say.

“Danny’s dead.” His words almost take me to my knees.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Sasha

I LIE HERE on the plush, white bed, staring up at the ornate canopy. It's all so luxurious, so suffocatingly luxurious. I wish I were with Dad right now.

Instead, I'm trapped here, held captive by a man whose intentions I can't fully decipher. Marco. Did he really kill those men at my home? I shiver involuntarily at the thought. What about Lucas? The name alone sends a chill down my spine. I've heard the stories, the ones whispered in fear, tales of his brutality. I thought he was locked away, far removed from this world. But seeing him here, alive and very much present, has made me realize just how deep I'm in.

I pull the soft, cashmere blanket closer around me, as if it could shield me from my fears. Marco promised that after the charity event, I'd be free to go. But can I trust him? Every instinct tells me to be cautious. Yet, what choice do I have? I cling to that hope, fragile as it is, that he'll keep his word.

I can’t lie still, so I climb out of the four-poster bed that dominates the space. Everything is white-themed, from the silk sheets to the plush carpet underfoot, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.

Floor-to-ceiling windows line one wall, offering a breathtaking view of the night sky and the mountains beyond. The moonlight spills in, casting a soft, silvery glow across the room. It's beautiful, undeniably so, but it feels like a gilded cage.

I walk over to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. The mountains in the distance are cloaked in shadows.

I know I just need to get through the event, and then…this will all be over.

I glance back at the bed, thinking that if I sleep, morning will come faster, but as inviting as it is, this all feels like quicksand. I need to move, to do something. I start to explore the room, trying to distract myself from the storm of thoughts in my head. The bathroom catches my eye first. It's enormous, with gleaming gold fixtures and pristine white tiles. It's the kind of bathroom you'd see in a movie, not one you'd actually expect to use. The bathtub is a massive, claw-footed masterpiece, and the shower looks like it could fit an entire football team.

I move on to the walk-in wardrobe. It's filled with fresh linen, fluffy slippers, and a soft dressing gown that looks like it could hug you to sleep. I consider taking a shower, letting the hot water wash away some of my stress. But the thought of stripping off, being vulnerable even for a moment, keeps me rooted in my clothes.

I take out my phone, the one lifeline I have to the world outside. Aunt Karen's number is at the top of my contacts. I almost hit dial but hesitated. It's late, and the last thing I want is to worry Lily. She's been through enough already. I put the phone back in my pocket, feeling more isolated than ever.

I return to the bed, lying down and trying to close my eyes. But sleep is elusive. My mind is racing, a jumbled mess of memories and fears. How did it come to this? Not so long ago, I was stepping off a bus, my heart full of hope and determination.My life in Australia wasn’t glamorous. Living in a hostel, working at a café for cash in hand, scraping together enough to get through my studies. It was hard, but it was simple. There was a rhythm to it that I understood and even found comfort in.

I think about the café, the smell of freshly ground coffee, the sound of milk steaming, the chatter of customers. It was a world away from this mess. There, I had friends; I had freedom; I had a future that I could shape with my own hands. Here, everything feels uncertain, controlled by forces beyond my understanding.

I miss the simplicity of my old life, the straightforwardness of it. Even on the hardest days, I knew where I stood. Now, I have no idea what I am getting myself into. I’m clinging to the hope that Marco will keep his promise. I turn onto my side, staring at the moonlit view outside. The mountains stand silent and unmoving, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me.

I toss and turn, but sleep refuses to come. My thoughts are a tangled mess, and the more I try to quiet them, the louder they become. I can't just lie here any longer. I throw off the blanket and swing my legs over the side of the bed. My feet sink into the plush carpet as I stand, the cold air prickling my skin.

---