Chapter 5 Chapter4

The next day, I woke up to the muffled sound of my phone ringing inside my bag. I frowned and turned to the side, trying to ignore the annoying melody of the alarm.

When it finally stopped, I went back to sleep. But the second I closed my eyes, I even let out a snore. I was just about to dream that I was rich, a millionaire, life sorted… and the alarm reminded me how far I really was from that reality. No mansion. No private jet. Just bills.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the bright light. I stretched my arm, pulled the bag from the floor, and grabbed my phone. Checked the time. I still had time — I wasn’t going to be late.

I had time. What I didn’t have was the will to keep living this crappy routine.

Dragging my feet, I got up from the bed, stopped beside the nightstand, and adjusted the alarm clock. I took my clothes off right there, leaving everything on the floor, and went straight to the bathroom.

I turned on the shower. Warm water fell on my shoulders and down my back. I tilted my head back, letting it wash over my face.

After the shower, I walked out wrapped in a towel. I put on a pair of jeans and a black blouse. Dried my hair with the towel. Grabbed a light jacket, slung it over my arm, picked up my bag and went to the living room.

On the floor, near the door, I noticed a folded paper. I crouched down, picked it up, opened it. It was the rent bill. Late.

I looked at the calendar on the wall. Last month. Already overdue. And the money wouldn’t cover it. Not even if I lied to myself.

I sighed and ran a hand through my still-damp hair. Exhaustion hit me, but there was no room for drama.

"No," I whispered to the paper.

I took a deep breath.

"Today is going to be a good day. Positive energy. No one is going to piss me off. No one."

I folded the paper, shoved it into my bag, put my earphones in, and left.

This time, I managed to drink my coffee without spilling it on someone. A miracle. The day was already off to a good start.

At work, everything was the same. I worked and trash-talked the company from my fake account — almost therapeutic. Compared to the last few days, this one wasn’t that bad.

The hours passed quickly, and surprisingly, I was excited to go home. Drink some wine, watch anything and, for the first time in days, just relax. No annoying boss, no charges, no rent on my mind — at least for a few hours.

I left the building with the sky already darkening. A light drizzle fell, but it didn’t bother me. It even matched the mood. My heels hit the asphalt with purpose as I walked, determined to get home fast.

That’s when I decided to take a shortcut. Idiot. I never did that. I always walked the busy streets, full of people and bright lights. But today? Today I just wanted to get home quickly.

I turned into an alley. Narrow. Dark. My steps slowed automatically. Something didn’t feel right.

That’s when I saw them. A group of men — three, maybe four — beating another man on the ground. He wasn’t moving anymore. I froze. Swallowed hard.

One of the guys turned his head slowly and saw me. He nudged the one beside him. They both stared at me.

I took a step back, every muscle in my body alert.

"Don’t move," one of them said, pointing a gun directly at me.

My legs almost gave out. I tried to think, to run, to scream… but fear shut everything down.

Then he appeared. Frankenstein. A huge guy, almost two meters tall, wide shoulders, the kind of face that had definitely broken a lot of bones before. He approached, grabbed my arm hard enough to leave marks.

"What are we gonna do with her?" he asked, expression unchanged.

"I suggest we talk to Don first before anything," the other one answered, sounding tense now.

They started dragging me out of the alley. Fighting was useless. My arm hurt, and I could barely breathe properly.

They dragged me onto the sidewalk with no concern for subtlety. The rain was getting heavier, but I barely felt it. My body was tense, blood frozen. My arm throbbed where he gripped me.

They walked up to a luxury car parked by the curb. Black. Dark tinted windows. A car that screamed “trouble.”

Frankenstein kept his hand locked around my arm while the other opened the back door.

"Don Moretti, we have a problem," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"What problem?" a voice replied from inside the car. Cold. Bored.

"A witness."

"A witness? Tsk… You can’t do a clean, quick job? Just deal with it already."

They shoved me inside the car. The smell of leather and expensive cologne filled my nose. I turned my head slowly, still trying to process everything. And then I saw him.

When I looked to the side, my eyes widened.

The face. The scar. The expression full of disdain.

No. No way.

The guy from the café.