Mafia And The Golden Girl [#1]

07|the bloody night

I inhaled to regain my sanity. The sickness emerging inside me gave me chills. I could not erase the sight of a dead man from my mind. The bullet between his head, the splash of fresh blood on the wall, and Romeo’s wicked laughter. It all sickened me. 

The world they lived in was full of inhumanity. They all had a sense of sickness in their heads. How could a human being relish killing people like they were nothing?

I spewed more water on my face, scrubbing my eyes as though I could take back what I saw. But sadly, I had another nightmare to keep me up all night as if the death of the innocent chef wasn’t enough tragic.

Romeo killed him. I could have appreciated his initiative to kill him before I did, or before the guy killed me. But the son of a bitch had a plan. I could feel it in his evil laughter. He did it for a reason. Why didn’t he kill me? I was as much of an enemy as the man.

I wondered what he had on his plate of games. Was it to use it against me? The look he gave me suggested it. I feared I got into a trap that I couldn’t get myself out of.

The washroom door squeaked open, and a lady walked in. She raked me from head to toe before lifting her eyes back to my face. “Alessia?” She asked, sounding like it was painful to say my name.

I stared into her eyes, desiring to know what awaited me. What calmed me was to see that she wore the same attire as any employees in the mansion. She was a worker.

“Yes.” I gave the same attitude, not meaning to disrespect her, for she was older than I was, probably in her late forties. 

“Follow me. I am instructed to show you the worker’s rooms, and give you your attire so you can start your job.” She said.

My brows furrowed in pure confusion. I wondered who saw I was poor and offered me some kind of job.

“What job?” I asked. Was I even supposed to work?

“You are to serve Romeo. Now, I only have less than twenty minutes with you.”

Without another question, I followed her. They wore white and black. They all appeared decent and organized. But they lacked communication. 

No one found it necessary to communicate to me about why they held me hostage in Mafia territory. I was probably a joke to everyone, including my parents, because why weren’t they getting me out of this hell?

The ladies were sharing a room that had over ten beds. You’d call it a dormitory. Everything looked organized, the beds were neat, and the place looked clean. We found four girls in the dormitory. One of them was the girl I saw earlier in Romeo’s room. She rested on one bed reading a novel, but looked up when we walked in.

A pin-drop silence reigned. They fixed their gazes on the lady and me as we walked in. 

The worst was to see they all looked okay to be in such a place. I didn’t belong there. I still needed a meticulous plan to escape.