Page 45 of Claiming His Mafia Princess

I nod. He’s right. I might never understand why my father did what he did - but I do need to talk to him.

Nevio makes the arrangements for me. I am going to meet my father at a coffee shop in town. Nevio is sending one of his guards with me as I’ve asked to go alone. I need to speak to my dad alone. Nevio is not happy about that part of it, but he agreed. I think he can see it in my eyes - how much I need to do this.

At eleven thirty Nevio is standing at the side of the car, holding the door open and looking down at me, sitting in the back.

“Keep your phone on you. Call me if anything happens. I’ll be there in a matter of minutes.” He keeps shifting from foot to foot as though he’s nervous.

“Nev, it’ll be ok. I’m just going straight there and straight back. My father also has his security at the coffee shop, so I’ll be safe.”

“Mm.” He sighs, not convinced.

He leans down, grabbing my jaw in his hands and kissing me deeply.

“I’ll see you in an hour.” He says, setting a time limit on my outing.

I grin and nod. “An hour.”

The car door closes and the driver heads towards town. My stomach is twisting nervously, dread building in the base of spine and tingling all the way up my neck.

Maybe I’m making a mistake. Maybe I don’t need to know. What if I don’t like the answers he gives me?

I chew on my bottom lip as we get closer and closer.

The sound of screeching tires makes me jump. My heart is slamming against my chest.

The window next to me explodes inward, sending glass glittering through the car. I pin my head away and feel it landing like snowflakes in my hair. Sharp, tiny shards of glass.

The driver is pulling the wheel left, but our tires aren’t even on the ground anymore. His head slams into the roof of the car and blood explodes from his nose.

I scream. I can feel the air being forced from my lungs, but I can’t hear anything.

My ears are ringing, a high-pitched tone that is constantly drowning out all other noises.

I don’t know how long I am hanging upside down in the back seat, my hair spilling over my face as it reaches for the roof, blood running to my cheeks and making my head feel heavy and painful.

Hands reach through the window and grab at me. A massive knife slices across the safety belt and my body slumps forward. I reach my hands up to stop myself from falling onto the roof of the car, but someone already has me. Hands are pulling me out of the vehicle.

I can see the shattered glass everywhere, blood pooling from the side of the car where the driver is. I can’t see him though.

The car is a wreck. A right off.

Still in someone’s grasp, I try to reach forward for my cell phone, but I get yanked back, sending pain shooting through my neck. Then a heavy boot kicks my phone away.

Don’t do that. I need to call him.

I need him to come and get me.

I want to go home.

“Get her in the van.”

The ringing stops and noise assaults my ears. All at once.

Sirens, screaming, men shouting.

I am lifted and tossed into the back of a white delivery type van.

“No.” I scream, not understand what is happening.

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