Page 2 of Mafia And Taken

After we finished our meal, I excused myself, saying I was tired and wanted to go to bed. My father went into the drawing room, but I always avoided that room as much as possible because on the mantelpiece were my mom’s and brother’s ashes.

The ashes had been there since I’d been fourteen years old. Just seeing them always brought a lump to my throat as memories of my mom and brother would come flooding back to me. My mother had always wanted to be cremated so that her ashes could be scattered back in her homeland. My father wouldn’t allow me to do this by myself, and he had never gotten around to scheduling time for us to make the trip together—as always, work was his sole priority and came before everything else for him.

I climbed the stairs to my childhood bedroom. It was still the same since Father had not changed it after I moved out three years ago and Nonna kept it as clean as a whistle.

I took a long shower before putting on a strappy satin nightgown that fell just above my knees. I climbed into my childhood bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, but it took ages to fall asleep as always.

This house no longer felt like my home—it hadn’t felt like my home since I’d been fourteen years old. But I blocked all those memories from my mind. I couldn’t go there tonight.

I watched the stars outside my bedroom window, seeking comfort from their light in the darkness, and eventually I fell asleep.

***

I woke abruptly to loud voices coming from downstairs. Squinting into the darkness, I checked the clock and saw that it was after 2 a.m.

Father must be talking to some of his men. They sounded angry with him, but it was odd for someone to raise their voice at my father since he was a Captain.

For some reason, the loud voices made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I decided to go downstairs to check with my father that everything was all right.

This house always made me feel uneasy now, but the loud voices were making me more nervous than normal. I reached for my robe. It was thin, but it would cover up my nightgown.

I silently crept down the stairs toward the voices coming from the drawing room. That was strange as well since my father conducted business in his office at the front of the house.

I slowly approached the drawing room, catching sight of my father surrounded by several men dressed all in black with their weapons drawn. My heart started to race.

They weren’t Fratellanza.They were the enemy.

How had they gotten past the soldiers guarding the gate? If these men were in our home, that could only mean that our soldiers were dead.

And that meant that the intruders probably wanted to kill us too.

I suddenly felt cold, but at the same time felt a bead of sweat trickle down my back, making me shiver. My father was pleading with the intruders. “Please, Dmitri, it wasn’t anything to do with me, I swear!”

The man he was talking to raised his gun to my father’s head.

I cried out. The man with the raised gun turned and saw me.

And seeing the look on his face, I didn’t think. I just ran.

I had a petite frame and ran to keep fit, so I was quick on my feet. I raced toward the front door, but another man dressed in black was coming through that door.

I spun on my heel as I made for the stairs in the opposite direction. There was a bathroom near the top of the stairs, and it had a lock on it. I only had to get that far.

I grabbed the wooden handrail, leaping onto the first step and rushing up the stairs.

I urged my legs to move faster but it felt like my whole body was moving through deep water. The man who had seen me was behind me—he was chasing me.

I stumbled on the stairs. I used my hands to push my body up and forward. It sounded like the man was close to me and I could hear his heavy breaths right behind me.

But I didn’t have time to look around behind me. I had to keep moving forward if I was to get away from him.

I had gone up and down these stairs so many times during my childhood but my ascent up them had never felt so difficult. I was breathing in huge gulps of air as I saw the top step come into my line of sight—only three more steps to go, two more steps.

Then I felt my foot touch the top step.

Once I reached the landing I didn’t pause for breath. I turned back on myself and bolted for the bathroom. Despite being fit from my regular running, my breath was coming in short pants and my body felt jittery.

I made it into the bathroom, whirling around and pushing the door shut at the same time.

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