Page 42 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
“What the hell was I thinking?” I thought to myself.
I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Thank God for that knock.
I had let myself get too caught up, too lost in the moment, in him. This was exactly what I had been warning myself against. It was an act—just a performance we had to keep up. So why did it feel so real?
I stepped back, crossing my arms as Lorenzo opened the door. A woman entered, hesitating at the doorway.
She was young—mid-twenties maybe—but exhaustion lined her face. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy ponytail, strands escaping, framing her tired eyes. She wore the black uniform of the club’s waitresses, but something about the way she held herself was off. Her shoulders were curled inward and her fingers clasped together, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
I had seen women like her before.
Too many times.
Women who had spent years learning how to be invisible. Women who had been taught that speaking too loudly or taking up too much space was dangerous.
I straightened, instantly alert.
She glanced at Lorenzo, “Good… evening, sir..I am..” she stuttered. She seemed to be trying to gather her thoughts and words.
“Good evening,” Lorenzo replied casually, his eyes leaving mine to acknowledge her greeting.
Her gaze flickered toward me, and something shifted in her expression—recognition.
“You… you’re Maria Russo,” shebreathed, voice unsteady. “You spoke at that women’s rights conference in Paris last year. I was there.”
My stomach tightened. She wasn’t here for Lorenzo. She was here for me.
I glanced at her, my mind flickering a bit to the conference. I was a panelist and guest speaker. I spoke extensively about domestic violence, and I recall a lot of women engaging and asking me questions about their abusive relationships. It was both sad and comforting.
Sad because a lot of women were caught in emotionally and physically abusive relationships. Comforting because they were ready to do something to change their situation.
“I need your help,” She said when I didn’t respond immediately. Her voice cracked on the last word.
She took a shaky step forward and then stopped, suddenly looking unsure of herself. “I—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come up here like this. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
I cut in smoothly. “It’s nothing. Yes, I am Maria Russo. What’s wrong? You said you needed my help.”
The woman hesitated, looking at Lorenzo, who stood at the corner observing without uttering a single word before looking back at me
“I…I just got out of a relationship. My boyfriend—” A pause. A swallow. “My ex—he was…he wasn’t a good person. But I left. I finally left. Just like you told us to do in the conference.”
The words came out in a rush, like if she didn’t say them fast enough, she wouldn’t be able to say them at all.
I nodded, encouraging. “That’s a huge step. I am so proud of you.”
She gave a tight smile. “Yeah. Except he won’t let me take my things from our apartment. I just want to get them and leave town. I don’t want to press charges, I just—”
She exhaled. “I just need to get out. Far away from this.”
I clenched my fists. Of course. How many times have I heard this same story? They didn’t want it to get messy. A part of them still wanted to shield him from the repercussions of his actions. A part of them is still too scared to face the monsters they had once thought they could love into being charming princes.
My heart melted. I knew too well not to push her to take action and press charges so he would pay. This was already a big step she was taking, and any attempt to push her to do more might have a negative effect on her.
“I’ll go with you,” I said immediately.
A sharp inhale from beside me.
