Page 44 of My Mafia King

The warm weather and lack of sleep make my pulse race, and even more so when I can’t spot my car.

The sweat comes in waves now.

Where is it?

I check the area.

I’m positive this is the spot.

I may not be good at orienting myself, generally speaking, but this is the area.

I swivel my head, look around, and find nothing.

I quickly realize this parking lot looks identical to the one I’ve left my car in.

I turn right and then left, and I can’t believe my eyes.

Since no one can see me now, I take my shoes off and run as fast as I can, careful not to step on a nail or a piece of glass.

Occasionally, I glance over my shoulder, grappling with this strange feeling that I’m being followed.

I see no one behind me.

The only thing sweeping my back is the sunset, a mix of pink, red, and orange hues.

Heaving, I reach my car, fumble through the contents of my bag for my keys, and unlock the door.

Oh, my. I can’t believe this. I need to move away from here as quickly as possible. That jerk knows exactly where I am, and I don’t believe for a second that he went back to LA.

Yeah. Damaso was scary. But was he scary enough to make Beau change his mind?

Did Beau believe me when I said I had a boyfriend? I don’t think so.

He must’ve been a little puzzled.

And maybe he’s watching me right now, trying to figure out if I have told him the truth. But as dumb as he can be sometimes, he knows a thing or two about me.

He knows I’m not that kind of girl.

More importantly, he took one look at Damaso Salla and instantly knew he was not the kind of man who hung out with virgins who had no idea how to please a man.

I move fast. Start the ignition, turn my car around, and leave, making sure no car is following me.

I have no idea where to go, but I move closer to the hotel, thinking that if something happens, I can run to the lobby and find someone to help me.

With that thought in mind, I park my car, turn off the ignition, crack the window open––not too much so someone could slide their hand in––and recline the driver’s seat.

Finally, I can breathe.

The temperature drops slightly, making breathing more comfortable.

A thought zips through my head.

I should’ve used the restroom before leaving the hotel.

My planning sucks.

Even so, I can find a public restroom tonight, change my clothes, and use their bathroom.

---