Mafia Lord's Escaped Prisoner

Holly's Pov.

My hands gripped the side of my gown firmly. Beads of sweat formed like a line of barricade across my forehead as I sat before my dressing mirror. The woman staring back at me was definitely not the one I knew a month back.

It all happened so quickly. I had been in my room, my headphones blaring music into my ears and blocking out the world. It was my only way of staying jiggy in a family of crazy people. But then the music stopped and the worldly noise had resumed.

“Dad wants to speak with you, Holly!” It was my annoying older sister. She was our parent's third born while I was the fourth and last.

Did I forget to mention I was the black sheep?

“I'm coming,” I replied grudgingly.

Moments later, I stormed down the stairs to meet with my dad who had a newspaper spread before him as he sat on the white million-dollar couch.

“You called for me, dad?”

“Yes,” he replied without looking up from the papers. “We have a little bit of a problem with the Poison gang that has to do with breaching an agreement I had with them.”

I snorted internally knowing what would happen if he heard me. After a few seconds of silence, I spoke.

“How does that have anything to do with me?”

With a bang, he dropped the papers and shot his eyes at me. I quickly looked away. “You see, this is why I always say you're useless to our family. For years, I have fed and clothed you but you've never shown interest in my business to repay me.”

At this point, I said fuck it and snorted.

“That's probably ‘cos it's your fucking responsibility!”

With a few strides, he approached me and as expected, hit me on the cheek. My face stung like fire but I waited patiently for the next wave of insults and emotional damage.

“Talk to me like that again and I'll have you thrown off a cliff, you understand?”

I nodded hesitantly.

“Speak up!”

“Yes, sir,” the last word broke apart as I started crying. But not as broken as my heart at the statement that followed.

“You'll be getting married to Poison's leader to make up for my mistake. I already agreed and all I need is for you to get prepared, chin up and be useful to this family. For once.”

My head shot up to look straight into his eyes. I was furiously searching—searching to see mockery, amusement or probably a quirky smile at the corner of his lips satisfied to see that I was shocked. But his eyes gave away nothing. Not even the slightest expression. Wide-eyed, I could slowly feel the blood in my face draining.

“What?”

Instead, he picked up his newspaper and turned away. From the corner of my eye, I could see my sister, Angie, coming in after my dad had left.

“Looks like someone has made up their mind.” She said, looking at me with pity. “I guess you're on your own, kid sis. Happy married life. In advance.” I could sense the mockery in her voice that was overshadowed by pity and sadness. It was obvious this was only dad's decision.

Falling to the ground, I whimpered. “I don't even get a say in this?”

A month later and I was still bewildered by my lack of ability to have a say or make a decision. To accept or to refuse. It was worse when I realized I could never set my eyes on him until the wedding day. What if he was ugly? What if he had a scar on his face? Most gang leaders do, so I was very sure he would have a gash on his face. An ugly one at that.

Like the one I'd seen that fateful night. Two days before the wedding. Closing my eyes and letting out a sigh, I concluded that I was going to push it off my mind. But the image of a gun to the battered woman's head and how after pulling the trigger, I'd watched life slowly drain out of her life constantly tugged at my heart.

The one who had pulled the trigger had a scar on his face. I clearly remembered his face. Whether he saw mine before I escaped the scene, I couldn't tell.

A knock jolted me out of my reverie and I fluttered my eyes open. The door opened and one of the girls that had helped me dress up entered.

“I think we are running late already, ma'am. Everyone is waiting.” She said politely.

I took one look at my curly brown hair that had been tightly put up into a bun and my heavily made-up face and straightened my shoulders.

“I'm ready.”

The orchestra was one beautiful melody flowing across the field where I was going to get married to a man I knew nothing about. The field was a nice choice as it was right beside the sea. It was my dream wedding venue but obviously not how I'd dreamed my wedding to play out.

Angie had volunteered to walk me down the aisle. For that I was grateful. Together, we walked down the steps and over the red carpet that cut through chairs where guests I'd never seen before in my life sat. As soon as I got to the stage, I decided to take a deep breath before the moment of truth.

“Now, that the bride has arrived, we shall proceed with the vows. To the groom, repeat after me…”

Everything the preacher said fell on deaf ears as I zoned out, scared to my bones of what would happen later today. Whenever it got to my turn, I would softly say out my vows as well. All these while, my gaze was intentionally fixed everywhere else but my side. Until…

“You may now kiss the bride.”

I hesitated but the groom yanked my arm and made me face him. As if on cue, we both paused for a moment. My eyes widened in fear and his frozen in shock. It was him. He had a scar across his face. Memories of that night began to bombard my mind and my head felt light.

Murmuring arose but soon became muffled as I swayed and fell. Darkness enveloped me.

With a gasp, I came to. I started breathing heavily, trying to make sense of my surroundings and what had happened before. The huge skirt around my wedding gown had been removed and I was now in my reception gown. A short skimpy dress that fell just above my knees. My hair was worn down and was now a mess. I was in a dark room save for the tiny speck of light that seeped in through the window.

I followed the light and found my hand on the knob. The door refused to budge as I tried opening it which meant I'd been locked in. If that was so, I needed to find a way to escape or I'd be dead as soon as he walked in.

“What am I going to do?”

Running to where the light was coming through, I realized the room was dark because the window had been coated in paint from the smell. I hit the surface and found it easy to break. There was no time to find an object to break it. From watching movies, I knew I needed to break the window in certain areas. Before long, the window had come down. But not without several cuts on my hands and arms.

I climbed through the window and began to run as fast as my legs could carry me. The rain started to drizzle and soon became a heavy downpour.

This would make it easy for me to escape. I started to hear yelling and shouting which meant they already found out about my escape. Shivering and already losing so much blood, I decided to hide behind a container.

“She couldn’t have gone far!” The voice was so close I had to clasp a hand to my mouth to stop myself from screaming. “Find her immediately!”

Crawling as low to the ground as I could, I moved further away from the clearing. As I dragged my body through the muddy ground, my body hit something solid. I looked down and saw the gate to a hole.

Was that a tunnel?

With hope and prayers, I dragged myself through the hole until I came out of the other end several minutes later. Looking back at the hole, I sighed in relief.

“Thank God.”

But then I heard a click and something cold pressed to my temple.

“Turn around before I fucking blow your head off!”

Lorenzo’s Pov.

“What the hell do you mean, they took off with our goods?” I barked at the man before me who mirrored my furrowed brows and tight lips. “I don't understand.”

“I got a call from the warehouse stating that some unidentified men came to claim the goods saying you sent them. Last I checked, only four of us knew about the gold and money.” Q.T. was one of my most trusted men who had been working for me for years. He and three others were the only ones who knew about the bars of gold and stacks of money I hid in that warehouse. The other three were at the warehouse to guard the container until it was ready for transport.

Something was amiss. Somebody among us definitely ratted us out and it has to be one of those three. Whoever it is, I'll find out tonight.

“Prepare some of the others and call in Buffy. His attention is needed at the warehouse. I'm going to get these fuckers to talk in several ways.”

I grabbed the glass of scotch I'd been taking earlier and downed the rest of the liquid, savoring the burning sensation it offered my throat.

An hour later, I was now clad in a black suit, black shirt and a pair of gloves to avoid getting my hands dirty. Over a decade in this mafia business and I'd never make a rookie mistake of leaving my prints wherever I went. Not because I was afraid of the outcome. I had the freaking money to lay the cops off my tail. But to keep my life private as it had been all these years.

Less case files, less drama.

I was in the car together with QT who looked as furious as I was feeling. We both had the same thing in mind. To kill whoever had given a word out. Their story of someone coming to claim the container was bullshit and I know. If I sent someone, I would definitely call the warehouse first.

If there was one thing I always made clear to my men, it's that I detest disloyalty. They are going to find out what I do to people who don't understand.

“I hope they say their last prayers wherever they are.” I muttered as I pulled out my gun and checked that it was loaded.

The vehicle screeched to a stop and I stepped out, noticing how swiftly one of the men brought an umbrella over my head.

“What do we do now?” Q.T. asked, falling right by my side as we approached the dock.

“Hopefully, we are able to get back the container before it gets too far out on the sea. My best guess is they have a group of people waiting to receive this and to fight back in case we run after them.” I paused as we reached the gate that leads inside the warehouse. It was a private entrance covered in shrubs and bushes. “So, we wait and hope the three of them say something useful.”

Q.T. nodded and so we waited for the men to open the gate. However, something nudged and made a clanging sound. Everyone raised their weapon, ready to shoot if anything went wrong. The sound grew louder and more intense and soon I realized where it was coming from.

I looked downwards and realized there was a small door that led to a tunnel.

“Interesting.” I mused as I nodded towards the gate.

Q.T. drew out his gun and stood at the entrance, waiting for whatever was there to show up. The door finally opened and a figure squeezed themselves out. By the ragged curly hair that was heavily drenched in rain, I could tell it was a woman.

What the hell is a woman doing out here? Alone!

The woman straightened as Q.T. placed a gun to her head. I frowned.

“Turn around before I fucking blow your head!” He yelled, his raspy voice cutting through the heavy sound of rain.

Possibly scared and cold, the woman turned around and looked around her. I don't know why but as soon as her face was revealed, my killer instinct relented. Her hair was crazily interesting and her eyes were round and glassy. From the numerous flashlights bombarding her, I could see the fear in her beautiful brown eyes.

“Who are you? A spy? Or one of the people who came to claim the container?” Q.T. continued to ramble, his weapon not leaving her head.

She looked confused.

“Hands up.”

The moment she did that, my body released a warmth that ran straight from my eyes to my legs. She has a killer body that any man would die for. Literally. Her hips were wide enough to indicate she had thick thighs. How would it feel having them wrapped around me as I fuck the brains out of her? I chided myself internally.

“Shoot her,” I said.

“I swear, I'm not a spy!” She said in a shaky voice that could convince any man.

I huffed. “You want to tell me you're here dressed in a sexy gown, under the rain and all alone by chance?”

“Not by chance. I was kidnapped and I'm just trying to escape.”

I was not going to trust her just because she was a woman. I've watched many great men fall because of this. Fuck! I've made many mistakes thinking women who cried and sounded convincing were innocent. I learned I was wrong the hard way.

“There's no way I'm trusting that bullshit.” I approached her and Q.T. took that as a cue to step back.

In truth, I wanted to get close to her to take in her whole features. I wanted to loathe her so much instead of wanting her in case she was an enemy. I grabbed her hair and placed my own gun on her forehead, trailing it down her neck, the enticing mounds on her chest and finally pressing it against her stomach.

“Who kidnapped you? Why?”

Looking straight into my eyes, which was strange, she started to answer. “I was supposed to…”

“Eyes down.” My voice was low and warning. She quickly did as she was told. “Nice. Now, keep talking.”

“Boss, we have better things to do. Let's just kill her and be on our way.” Q.T cut in.

I paused, taking in his words but knowing fully well that I didn't want to get rid of this woman. At least, not yet. Returning the gun to her head, I decided to do something crazy. Since she was bleeding and claimed she needed help, I could only do my best to do so.

“We're taking her with us.”

Q.T. gasped in a way that said he couldn't believe this. I didn't care. I never did. I was the boss and they would do whatever I told them to, not the other way around.

“I was supposed to get married to a stranger I don't know. My father will sell me off to some crazy man for money and I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a pathetic trophy wife. He then decided to lock me up on our wedding day.” She quickly narrated. Her voice getting stronger with each word as if she was slowly realizing her life depended on this.

“Let's kill her, boss,” Buffy spoke up now. I knew it was only a matter of time.

“He's right. How can we believe her story simply because she's wearing a white gown.”

Instead, I locked my eyes with hers, feeling a deep sense of protection over this scared woman. I wanted to find the fucker that made her this scared and locked her up. I wanted to blow off his head. But what if she's lying?

“So, a runaway bride, uh?”

She swallowed and I could see that from the beautiful lines around her neck. Then it seemed like a soft moan escaped her lips. I frowned. This little action made me fucking hard. It must be the cold weather. I thought.

“Yes.” She sniffles as well.

“I don't believe this bi…”

I didn't think twice before running a bullet through his legs without looking. Buffy was an impatient man and I knew if I didn't take action, he would pull a bullet to her head before I could stop him. He needed to learn he could only lift an arm when I asked him to. His huge size was not a guarantee for being safe from my shot.

With a shove, I pulled the woman behind me and turned to face my men, my gaze not leaving Buffy.

“Go against me once more and the next bullet will kiss your brain. Nobody touches her. She's mine. My prisoner. Not yours!”

“Noted, boss.” Buffy said. “What do we do with her?”

I pushed her into their arms. “Get her to my company's penthouse and make sure she gets warm and comfortable. Q.T., manage that. Buffy, follow me.” Clocking my gun, I turned to face the entrance. “We've got to finish this.”