Bumping Into The Mafia (Book One)

Six

Eva

A low groan echoes around the room as I squinted my eyes from the bright light coming in through the window.

"Shit." I grumble as the pounding in my head starts to kick in.

I drank too much wine.

Wine tends to give me horrible hangovers, and as of right now... I'm getting one of those awful hangovers.

BRRRM!! BRRRM! BRRRM!

I look over at my nightstand to see my phone lit up and buzzing around. I reach my hand over and grab it, putting it to my ear.

"Hello?" I choke out and push my blankets off, sitting up.

"Eva! Where are you? I had to cover your ass today with angry clients. Did you forget that you have two meetings today?!" My boss yells through the phone. Out of instinct I pulled the phone away from my ear and press on my temples with my free hand.

"Could you stop yelling please? I woke up sick and I have a terrible migraine. I was just about to call to tell you that I won't be coming in today." I explain quietly hoping he'll give me a break.

"Well what about the bar? Huh? The man came in here today with questions specifically for you. What am I supposed to do Eva? You're the realtor!" Johnson yells through the phone.

"Johnson, please just shut the fuck up. Okay? You used to have my job. So handle it like an adult and stop calling me to bitch." I snap and end the call. With a big sigh I fall back onto my bed and massage my temples with my fingers. Hesitantly, I get out of bed and walk into my bathroom, grabbing some Advil. Using my hand to cup water from the sink I take the pills and walk to my kitchen.

When I walk into the living room I see the couch out back together. However, when I enter the kitchen the wine is put away and the glasses in the dry rack.

How sweet? I think to myself and smile lightly.

*****

The smell of coffee and breakfast fills my apartment as I sit on the stool at my bar. However, as soon as I go to take a bite of my eggs, someone knocks on the door.

"Dammit." I growl and get up, walking to the door. I quickly work the locks and swing it open to reveal a disheveled looking man.

"Oh my god, please. You have to help me." He rushes out and pushes me backwards into my home. He slams the door closed and locks every lock. Shocked, I walk backwards into the kitchen.

"Uh, I don't know who you think you are. But you ca-"

"Shh! Shh!! He can't know I'm here. Please just let me stay for a while. I promise I'll be gone soon." He begs and I can see the sweat heading down the sides of his face.

"What's wrong? What happened?" I ask and try to get a grip on what the hell is happening.

"I, I can't tell you. You wouldn't understand." He snaps and rushes back to the door looking through the peephole.

"Well mister, you're in my house so you better explain." I snap and he holds his hand stretched out backwards towards me.

"Shut up. He's here." He says, seriousness taking control of his composure.

"Who is here?" I demand, my voice getting louder. I stomp to the door and push the man out of the way, looking through the peephole. I see three men, all dressed in suits.

"Who are they?" I ask and don't take my eyes away from the peephole. I turn around to see the man holding a gun, and pointing it at me.

"Sorry sweetheart, that's for me to know, and for you to find out. Now go to the couch, and sit." He commands. My heart begins to pound in my chest and I quickly forget about my hangover. Sweat starts to form on my forehead and I begin to feel clammy.