Bound To The Cruel Mafia

VERA

The alarm rang with that irritating beep I hated. Half-asleep, I fumbled around, hitting it off with a slow slap. Silence. Finally. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to pull my thoughts together. Just a few more minutes, I thought. But then it hit me—I was late!

I shot up, heart racing. “Sh*t!” I rushed to the bathroom, scrubbing myself down faster than I thought possible. My mind was racing through a checklist of things to do today. I was in and out of the shower in record time, grabbing a towel and throwing on whatever clothes were closest. I had to make it to work on time, or else. I couldn’t afford any screw-ups, not now.

I yanked open my dresser and grabbed my work clothes, quickly slipping into them. As I glanced in the mirror, my reflection stared back at me, looking as stressed as I felt. I rummaged around my cluttered desk for my ID card, tossing papers and pens aside. “Where the hell…? Oh, here it is.” I shoved it into my bag, realizing how close I came to forgetting it. Great start, Vera, I thought, sarcastically rolling my eyes at myself.

I was about to dash out the door when I noticed Dad slumped on the couch, surrounded by a mess of newspapers. As usual. I shook my head, trying to muster up the right words. “Dad, seriously? The papers are everywhere.” I walked over, picking up a few to toss in the bin.

He looked up, giving me that sheepish smile of his. “It’s the news, Vera. Can’t miss it.”

I sighed, not in the mood to argue. “Yeah, well, don’t drown in it.” I forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t forget to eat.”

As I moved to leave, I hesitated. “I’ll grab your meds if I get paid today, alright?” I said it casually, but inside, the anxiety gnawed at me. Dad coughed in response, the sound rattling deep in his chest. It was getting worse. He nodded, giving me a tired but reassuring smile. “You’re a good girl, Vera. Go on, you’ll be late.”

“Yeah, I know. Love you, Dad.” I leaned in, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying out.

I waved down the first cab I saw, sliding into the backseat with a deep breath. The car lurched forward, and I finally let myself relax for a second, though my mind was still buzzing. My gaze drifted to the city outside the window, the buildings whizzing past as the cab driver tried to navigate the morning traffic.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how badly I needed this paycheck. Dad’s meds weren’t cheap, and things were getting tighter by the day. Rent, bills, food—it was all piling up. I stared out the window, the passing streets blending together, thinking about the story I’d been chasing. One good story could change everything. Just one. If I could land something big, I might finally get a decent check.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts. I fished it out, hoping it was a lead on something good. But it was just a message from my editor, reminding me that I’d better not miss the deadline. “No pressure,” I muttered to myself, shoving the phone back into my bag.

I leaned back, trying to clear my head. “Come on, Vera. You can do this.” I wasn’t just talking about making it to work on time, but everything else that weighed on me. All I needed was one break, one story that would pay enough to get us through this month, maybe even the next.

I could feel the cab driver glancing at me through the rearview mirror, probably wondering why I was muttering to myself like a crazy person. But I didn’t care. I had bigger things to worry about.

“Stay strong, Vera,” I whispered under my breath, as if the words themselves could somehow make everything better.

The cab had barely made it down the next turn when I felt a jolt. There was a thud, followed by a string of curses from the driver. “What the hell?” I muttered, peering out the window. The car in front of us had come to a sudden stop, and our cab had tapped its bumper.

Before I could even process what was happening, two men stepped out of the other car. They were both dressed to the nines—sharp suits, polished shoes, and those ridiculous hats that screamed ‘I’m important.’ The kind of guys who thought they owned the world. They walked over, all slow and menacing, and I could feel the tension rising in the air.

One of them yanked open the driver’s door, dragging him out like he was nothing. The driver, a middle-aged guy with more gray than black in his hair, started stammering apologies. “I’m sorry, sir, it was just a small mistake—”

But they weren’t listening. The taller one pointed at the tiny dent on their car like it was a gaping hole. “You see that?” he barked, his voice icy. “How are you gonna make up for that, huh?”

The driver, now shaking, kept apologizing, his hands up in a pleading gesture. “Please, I’m really sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t fix my car, old man,” the other guy sneered. And before the driver could say another word, the tall one slapped him. Hard. The sound of it echoed in the street, and the driver stumbled back, holding his face.

“What the hell!” I couldn’t just sit there and watch this. I shoved the door open and jumped out, rushing over before they could hit him again.

“Hey! Back off!” I shouted, stepping between them and the driver. “If you lay another finger on him, I’ll call the cops!”

They turned to me, and for a second, there was this stunned silence. Then they started laughing, like I’d just told the world’s funniest joke.

“Call the cops?” the tall one smirked. “Sweetheart, you think that’s gonna scare us?”

I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. “Heartless bastards,” I spat, glaring at them. “How can you treat someone old enough to be your father like this?”

The shorter guy, who had been more of a bystander until now, stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “You better watch your mouth,” he warned, his voice low and threatening.

But I wasn’t backing down. “Or what? You think you can do anything to me? You’re nothing but a couple of thugs in fancy suits.” My voice was sharp, filled with the kind of anger that doesn’t come with second thoughts.

The taller one moved closer, his eyes cold. “You’ve got a real smart mouth, you know that?”

“Yeah, and I’m not afraid to use it,” I shot back, not even flinching. “Now, why don’t you go back to your fancy car and leave us the hell alone?”

For a moment, it looked like he was going to do something, but then he just smirked again, a twisted sort of grin. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” he said.

The taller man glanced at me, his lips curling into a smug grin. “Why don’t you step away from the driver and go about your day, sweetheart?” His tone was dripping with condescension. “I’d hate to bully a little girl… unless it’s in bed.”

His disgusting comment sent a wave of anger surging through me. The other men chuckled like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“Disgusting animals,” I spat out, my voice laced with contempt.

His grin faded as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “I warned you.” His voice was colder now, more dangerous. He took another step toward me, but I wasn’t backing down.

Without thinking, I pulled out my camera and held it up. “I’m a journalist,” I said, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I’m going to have your face plastered all over the papers as an assaulter.”

I snapped a picture, the flash momentarily blinding him. But before I could take another shot, he lunged at me, ripping the camera from my hands and smashing it against the pavement.

The camera shattered, pieces scattering everywhere. Fury boiled over in me. I was about to swing at him, d*mn the consequences, when the door of the car behind us opened.

A man stepped out, tall and imposing, his presence immediately commanding the attention of everyone around. He had sharp gray eyes that seemed to take in everything at once, and his ash-colored hair was slicked back, giving him a polished, almost too-perfect look.

The atmosphere shifted the second he appeared. The men who had been so cocky seconds ago suddenly seemed to shrink in his presence. The one who’d broken my camera took a step back, his bravado fading fast.

The tall man walked up to them with an air of authority. He didn’t even glance at me at first, his focus entirely on the man who’d just attacked me. “Franz,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that cut through the air. “What’s all this noise about?”

Franz, the one who’d slapped the driver and broken my camera, looked like he wanted to melt into the pavement. “Sir, it’s nothing,” he stammered, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “The girl… she tried to record us, so I broke her camera.”

The commanding man’s eyes flicked to the broken camera on the ground, then briefly to me. Without a word, he turned back to Franz and punched him square in the face. The impact was brutal, sending Franz stumbling back with blood trickling from his nose.

“Never behave like a barbarian in public again,” the man said, his voice eerily calm.

Franz didn’t dare say a word, just nodded, his hand clutching his nose.

The man then turned to me, his expression unreadable. “What’s your name?”

I crossed my arms, not about to give him anything. “I have nothing to say to sadistic people.”

He didn’t react, just reached into his wallet and pulled out a thick wad of cash. He held it out to me. “For your camera. Get a new one.”

I glanced at the money, then back at him, my lip curling in disgust. “I don’t need your money,” I said, my voice steady.

He didn’t lower his hand. “Take it.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t want your money, and I don’t need your petty bribe.” My eyes burned with defiance as I looked at him. “This isn’t the last time you’ll hear from me.”

I turned away from him and went to help the driver, who was still shaken up, wiping the blood from his nose with trembling hands.

The man behind me didn’t say another word. I heard the money hit the ground, and then the sound of footsteps retreating back to the car. A door shut with a soft thud, and I looked up just in time to see him getting back into the car with his men.

As the car pulled away, I couldn’t help but wonder who the hell that man was. And why did he seem to have those creeps on such a tight leash?

NERO

The quiet hum of the engine was the only sound in the car as I stared out the window, my mind elsewhere. The city streets blurred past, but I wasn’t seeing any of it. I was too deep in my thoughts, and those thoughts were nothing but trouble.

It felt like the world was out to piss me off today. First, I get word that my hideouts are being vandalized—by who, I don’t know yet, but they’re going to regret it. Then, I look at the numbers, and my income’s taking a hit. Someone’s skimming, or maybe it’s something else. Doesn’t matter, because either way, it’s going to get fixed.

And now, on top of all that, my men are out here, making a scene like a bunch of idiots. I swear, some days it’s like I’m surrounded by morons.

I muttered to myself, “Can’t go one d*mn day without something going wrong.”

Franz and the others had one job—keep a low profile, handle business, and don’t draw attent