Page 15 of Mafia Princess

“That boy is crazy. They all are,” I laugh and hold up my glass to salute the Russo boys. My eyes catch movement at the entrance and my night has just got a little more interesting.

“What are you staring at?” Summer twists in her seat to get a look at what has captured my attention.

“An old friend.” I narrow my eyes.

She raises a brow, her mouth turning into a hard line. “Maya, what are you up to?”

I look at her sitting across from me with her sparkling blue eyes shining in the dim light and wonder what possessed her to want to get caught up in this life. “Nothing I can’t handle.” I run my finger over my roman numeral tattoo on my inner wrist. Thoughts of bloodshed dancing in the back of my mind.

“Maya,” Her voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Amber and Emma have been surrounded by guys.” I ignore Summer and point to the dancefloor. I notice Emma chatting, almost familiarly, to one of the guys. Their conversation looks serious as her gaze casts around the room nervously. “Let’s go save them.” I chug the rest of my beer, slide out of my seat, and grab Summer’s hand.

“I’m watching you,” Summer whispers in my ear as we move to rescue the other two.

I dance up behind Emma and grab her around the waist. She turns and wraps her arms around my neck. “Back to the table to sober up.” I drag her after me and she willingly obliges.

I slink to this end of the bar, keeping a distance from where the others sit, and grab some water for the girls. I glance at the dancefloor and chuckle under my breath as I watch Summer struggling to convince Amber to come back to the table and away from those creepy guys. It’s almost comical the way Amber sways in time to the beat of the music, her head thrown back as Summer tries to bargain with her. I watch Summer whisper something in Amber’s ear, which lands a look of panic on Amber’s face and she scampers back to our table.

“Here, drink this.” I hand Amber a glass of ice water. She chugs it down and slams the glass onto the table, out of breath and sweaty. “What did you say to Amber to get her back here?”

Summer looks at me in panic, her gaze darting to the dancefloor and back. “I told her who those guys are associated with.”

“How do you know that?” I stare at her with newfound admiration.

“Enzo has had dealings with them.” She holds her finger over her lips.

“Of course he fucking would.” I shake my head in disbelief. “What other criminal organizations does he consort with?”

Summer scratches the back of her neck and grimaces. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tries to stifle a laugh, but it comes out as a snort.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath. Lucky I’m not a tell-tale. My papa would give anything to have insider information like this.

The night wears on in the same pattern. Amber and Emma dancing, me hydrating them and puffing on endless cigarettes, and Summer watching over me like she’s my guardian. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking before I think it. Luckily, I love her to bits, or else I’d tell her to back the fuck up. But I know she only has the best intentions and is always watching out for me.

My gaze catches a movement at the table where the others sit.

Memories of a darkened room, the smell of mold, and hints of rotting human flesh invade my thoughts. The sound of my mom shrieking in agony and begging them to let me go and not harm me. Her cries having gone on deaf ears as the fucker slammed his fist into my stomach again and again until I was curled into a ball on the dirty floor. My anger twists inside me, like a coiling viper ready to strike.

I grab Summer’s hand to get her attention. “Listen to me. If I’m not back in ten minutes, please take these two and get the fuck out of here. Call a cab now and have it waiting outside.”

Summer stares at me, her furrowed eyebrows creating worry lines on her perfect face. She nods, instantly understanding what I need. “Got it,” She squeezes my hand and doesn’t let go as I try to leave the table. “Let me help you.”

“I got this.” I wink in return and beeline for the bathrooms, even though I know she will bundle the girls in the car and come try to save me from myself.

The stench of male piss wafts up my nose almost making me gag. Why does a men’s urinal always stink so bad? I turn the corner and watch my prey enter a cubicle and close the door after him. The rest of the cubicles are empty, and I decide to hover near the entrance, waiting for him to finish his business and exit.

My hand lazily brushes over the knife strapped to my thigh. Security at the front door is a little too lenient in this place, which has worked to my advantage. I wait and tap my fingers against the knife handle, counting down the seconds like a ticking time bomb. I hear him clear his throat before the flush of the toilet fills the silence. He emerges and doesn’t even bother to do up his zip, completely unaware of my presence. I calculate his steps to the washbasin.

Three.

Two.

One.

He turns his head toward me. “I think you have the wrong restroom, sweetheart.” His gaze trails knives over my exposed skin. The dirty fucker makes my skin crawl.

“No, I have the right one, sweetheart.” I take a step further into the room.

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