Escaping the Mafia’s World

"Someone's tailing me!”

The tires screamed as I yanked the wheel, pressing hard on the accelerator. My heart race when I glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the rider gaining on me.

Suddenly, my car spun out, slamming into another with brutal force. Just before darkness closed in, I saw blood pooling between my legs.

Hours later, I was back at home, aching and alone, wondering why Vincent hadn’t even sent anyone to pick me up from the hospital.

As I stepped into our bedroom, I froze. Hanging over my vanity was a red lace lingerie.

I didn’t own anything like that, but I knew who did, Rebecca, his ex-girlfriend. The lace felt warm, like it had just been taken off.

Vincent walked out of the bathroom, towel around his neck, his phone in hand.

He barely looked at me, sneering, “Still pushing that car accident story?”

“It’s the truth, Vincent. I sent you the scans,” I replied, holding my voice steady.

He dismissed me with a shrug. I clutched the lingerie tighter, I couldn't believe that he's the guy I fell in love with.

As he reached for the clothes I usually laid out, he stopped, noticing I didn't prepared anything, his gaze finally meeting mine.

“Well, the bullet didn’t even graze you,” he scoffed. “Stop being dramatic.”

I felt numb. Hours earlier, I’d gotten stitches in my leg, and the doctor had quietly told me I’d been four weeks pregnant. But it was already over. Because the accident had taken that chance. If I’d been brought to the hospital sooner, maybe our child could have been saved.

“Vincent,” I said, rage boiling up, “Who did you bring here?” I threw the lingerie at him.

“Don’t start with your accusations! Maybe it’s yours!” he snapped.

“You know I’d never wear this. Just tell me the truth.” My words cut through the silence.

He stepped closer, voice low. “Are you accusing me? Are you losing your mind?” His hand reached for my chin, but I slapped it away.

“I’m not blind, Vincent. I know what’s going on with Rebecca.”

“Enough with your jealousy, Precious,” he growled, “or you won’t like where this goes.” Then, his phone buzzed. His anger vanished as he answered with a smile, walking out without a glance.

Left alone with nothing. I lost our child, my safety, and every illusion I’d held. I finally saw the truth.

Since I got involved with a mafia lord, danger was inescapable, but he’d promised to protect me.

Tonight, Vincent broke that promise.

As the door clicked shut, I moved with purpose, retrieving a small box under the bed. I slipped the battery into a secret phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used in years.

The line clicked, and Demetri’s familiar voice greeted me. “Precious Wilson, long time. What brings you back?”

“I’m ready, Demetri. I’m accepting your offer.” My voice was firm and cold, a side of me I had kept for seven years with Vincent.

He chuckled. “Sure about that? Last I heard, you were with my enemy.”

“It’s over. There’s no reason to stay with him.” My gaze lingered on a photo of Vincent and me on the nightstand. “Not anymore.”

“Good. I’ll set things up. Call if you need anything.”

As I hung up, calm washed over me. I was done being submissive. It was time to take back my life.

Morning came, and Vincent was already by the door, twirling his car keys as I stepped outside. He barely glanced at me, his hand grabbing mine, cold and dismissive.

"Still being dramatic over last night? You didn’t even make my coffee," he snapped.

I pulled my hand away, my voice sharp. "Why should I? You can do it yourself."

His grip tightened, a mocking smirk on his lips. "Oh, so that’s how it is? Maybe I should make you quit your job. Take away that little thing you brag about. I’ll drive you to work."

I couldn’t hide my surprise. He’d never offered to drive me. I’d always commuted alone. But ever since Rebecca returned, he was glued to her, practically her chauffeur.

He pulled me toward his car, but his phone buzzed, and I saw the look on his face, it was her.