His Mafia Queen

Chapter 1

"Angelo Ricci manda i suoi saluti." (Angelo Ricci sends his greetings.) Said one man with a thick voice.

The next thing I heard was a gunshot as I saw blood spray on to the back wall and I stepped away, screaming. I dropped the items in my hands, my scream filled the air and my eyes even wider.

Run Charlotte! I screamed at myself.

"Prendila!" (Get her!) A man shouted and without understanding him, I wasn't waiting to find out what it meant.

I quickly turned and ran. I didn't care what door I used, only the fact that it was the closest door to me, I took the handle and opened it, finding myself in a storage room. How perfect, I sarcastically yelled at myself as I went to another door then another before finding myself outside.

I ran as fast as I could, my bag bouncing on my back, my legs carrying me as fast as they could go. I was never a runner, even as a child. I made excuses although high school when it came to physical education. When I did have to run, which was rarer than a blue moon, my hands would be at my chest, but not this time. They were by my side as I bolted, scared for my life, terrified by what I just saw.

I heard gunshots behind me and it made me run even faster if possible, scared out of my mind. Another shot was fired and I screamed as the weight from my bag disappeared. I quickly looked behind me, the strap of my bag broken, the whole lot on the ground. I wasn't brave enough to get it as I saw the man behind me. Turning my head to in front of me, I looked to where the bus was, it couldn't have been much further.

"Crap." I muttered breathless as I ran to the bus. But the bus wasn't there, it was back on the road, leaving.

Without me.

"Wait!" I screamed as it kept going.

I felt pain in my chest and ribs, my legs were hurting and I did the only other thing I could think off. I headed to the town of Verona, which was still a distance in front of me. As soon as I could, I hid myself in with the close buildings, catching my breathe, wheezing as I placed my hands on my sides and leaned over. It hurt to breathe, I felt sick, the stabbing pains in my chest and sides were continuously still throbbing.

Once again, I patted myself down. My passport was in my pocket, with my phone that had my ID and cards and the only thing I needed in that bag was clothes. Pushing off the wall I found myself resting against, I started to head into the town, exhausted, I tried to find anywhere that had authority, police.

I finally found one and dragging myself in, I went to the front desk.

"Buon pomeriggio signorina, come posso aiutarti?" (Good afternoon miss, how can I help you?) The large man said to me.

I blinked at him, still winded from my sprint and slightly frustrated that I don't know the language. "English." I said as I pointed to myself. "Inglese." That I knew.

The man turned and yelled out something and someone else came towards us. A middle-aged man, a bit wide on the sides but not exactly fat and greying in his hair. He wasn't wearing the same uniform as the other man and I saw his gun and badge hanging off his belt.

"Do you need the interpreter?" He asked me in English and I heard the accent in his voice.

I nodded and sighed, pointing to behind me, to the door I entered from. "A crime, just out of town." I finally broke down to tears as I was led to a private room. I was finally able to let my body go into shock once I felt safe.

I spent hours in there, describing every little detail of what I saw, from what the two men looked like to me running and getting shot at. Over and over till it no longer affected me emotionally. My throat hurt from the screaming, running, the crying and the endless talking of repeating the same thing. Somewhere along the way, I was given coffee and unknowingly, I took it, thankful for it. I cradled the coffee cup in my hand as I answered the questions, as they got translated.