Page 27 of Dark Mafia Vows

Rising from the bed where I’ve been lounging since breakfast, I decide to do something productive. And by productive, I mean taking a shower and changing into fresh clothes.

By the time I’m done, it’s past noon, and I’m hungry again. The little slice of banana bread and coffee from this morning didn’t exactly fill me up.

I opt for my comfort food—pizza. Despite the belief that all bakers are good cooks (but not all cooks are good bakers), I havezero cooking ability. For some reason, every time I try to make a dish that doesn’t involve flour or baking ingredients, it ends in disaster.

As I reach for my phone to place an order, I notice my battery is nearly dead, and my charger is nowhere to be found. I’ve practically torn the house apart looking for it. I haven’t used it since that night at Dario’s club, and even then, I didn’t take it out.

Great. Just what I need.

I scour every nook and cranny of the house, but it’s nowhere to be found. Frustrated, I toss a cushion aside and let out a sigh. I can’t deal with this anymore.

With a sudden burst of determination, I decide to make a quick trip to the electronics store just down the street. My bodyguards have strict orders to keep me safe, but I manage to persuade them with a playful smile, reminding them it’s just a quick errand. The two times I snuck out of the house didn’t go unnoticed by Lorenzo, and now he’s punishing me by tightening the security.

“You really want to walk with me just down the road?” I ask when one of them offers to follow me. “Don’t you think that’ll only draw more unwanted attention to me?”

The same guy offered to buy the charger for me, but I refuse to turn my bodyguards to my errand boys. Plus, after being indoors for days, I’m actually looking forward to the walk. It’s maddening being cooped up for so long.

When none of them answers, I sigh. “I’ll be fine, I promise,” I assure them.

They still insist on coming along, so I give up and let them. At least they’re letting me leave the house today. I feel as giddy as a kid who just got free ice cream. I inhale deeply under the warm sun, craving a tan, and try to ignore the two men looming behindme. The walk to the gadget store is short, and when we arrive, I tell the guards to stay outside before stepping in.

The store is bright and filled with shiny gadgets, the fluorescent lights casting a cheerful glow over the rows of shiny screens and tech accessories. I weave through the aisles, admiring the latest phones and tablets. My fingers brush over the cool surfaces, and for a moment, I’m transported to my teenage years when I had an obsession with new technology.

Drones, VR headsets, gaming consoles— you name it, I had it. I was much happier back then, getting anything I wanted handed over to me. I was ignorant of how ruthless the business world was and how it negatively affected people’s personal lives.

I shake the thoughts away and grab the charger I need. But instead of heading straight to the register, I browse the aisles, lingering at a display of headphones. I pause to try on a pair. The music is soft, soothing, and I close my eyes briefly, letting the sound wash over me. It feels good to escape, even if only for a moment.

But then, the atmosphere shifts.

A loud crash echoes from the entrance, and my heart drops like a stone when three masked, heavily armed men burst into the store.

Panic surges through me, and I stumble back, my breath catching in my throat. I glance around, but my bodyguards are nowhere in sight. Where are they? They’re supposed to protect me! My eyes dart outside, and that’s when I see them lying on the ground—unmoving.

Fear claws at me, and I know I have to act fast.

“Get down,” I yell when the first bullet pierces through the air, instinctively shielding a teenage girl who stands frozen in shock. Her eyes are wide, filled with terror. “It’s okay, I’m here,” I whisper, trying to comfort her, even though my heart is racing. I can hear the robbers shouting, their voices a chaotic mix ofdemands and threats. The store attendant is cowering behind the counter, his hands over his head.

“Please, just take what you want,” I hear him plead, and the desperation in his voice sends chills down my spine.

“We don’t want your money. We want Ginevra Bianchi.”

I freeze at the mention of my name, and my blood runs cold. They’re not hereto rob the place—they’re here for me.

My mind races as I glance around for a way out, my pulse pounding in my ears. The exits are blocked, and the reality of my situation crashes over me like a wave. Desperation tightens in my chest as I slowly start backing away, scanning the room for any possible escape.

“Stand up, wherever you are, or we’ll kill everyone in this room,” one of the men shouts, and I know I can’t hide forever.

I can’t let these people die because of me.

I take a deep breath, my hands trembling at my sides. I can’t let them take me. I need to protect the girl beside me. “Stay down,” I whisper to her, my voice barely audible.

Slowly, I stand, and immediately, all eyes turn toward me. The door isn’t far from where I’m standing. If I can just make a dash for it...

Before I can move, a heavy hand clamps down on my arm, sending a sharp pain shooting through me. The world starts to spin.

“Let me go!” I scream, my voice piercing through the chaos, but it’s swallowed by the other screams and shouts echoing around the store.

“Move it!” the robber growls, dragging me toward the entrance. I kick and struggle, but my limbs feel weak, as if they’ve turned to jelly. His grip is unrelenting, like iron chains pulling me forward. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins, but it’s not enough. I glance back at the girl—her face frozen in terror—and my heart cracks.

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