C h a p t e r 48

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Chapter 48 : MadelynMonday, August 9th, 2021

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Chapter 48 : Madelyn
Monday, August 9th, 2021

The mafia.

My boyfriends are in the fucking mafia, and I didn't know.

Ever since I really began to grow comfortable with them, I had joked around and called it their side business, but I don't think I could've been more wrong.

I'm no stranger to weapons, bruised fists, and even death, but the mafia is some next level shit.

Throughout my childhood, one of my first lessons was you either grew a backbone in the town I lived in or you didn't get very far in life.

But I remember my father used to tell me stories growing up about the mafia— ones that kept me awake at night, hoping to never have to face a darkness like that.

His words are currently echoing in my head, information about what kind of people those soldiers became and the morals they lacked.

Drug and human trafficking, prostitution, robberies, murder.

That's what those people stand for, and I can't stomach for a single second that the men I've grown so close to are involved in it—support it.

I feel my fists grip tighter around the steering wheel, my foot pressing harder on the gas pedal and allowing the wind to whip my hair behind me.

I know I'm going dangerously over the speed limit, but this is all I can think to do right now.

No matter what thoughts travel through my mind, I can't stop the tears from spilling down my face in anger, fear, and sadness as I try to piece everything together.

I know I shouldn't jump to conclusions, but how the hell am I supposed to interpret this?

Does Hailey know?

Would I put her in danger by telling her?

I don't know what to do, but I know I need to calm myself down before anything else.

It's just so hard when countless memories flash through my head.

The first true day I met them; the gun in Xavier's hand; the splatter of blood that flew from that man's head as not a single person there showed an inch of remorse.

I think about the guns that my men carried everywhere, the training and knowledge they had that was not required of nightclub owners.

The signs were always there, but never once had my theories traveled to this.

I could only blink as more tears flowed, trying to keep my focus on the road, even when the truly painful memories flooded in.

That night at the club when they first touched me in their office.

How for the first time in years, I was able to look at myself—scars and all– and feel true beauty and appreciation.

That's what made this so damn hard.

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