Her Reign: A Mafia Love Story

The Warehouse

The drive to the warehouse seems like an eternity. My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest. I drive with one hand, the other occupied twisting and untwisting a lock of my hair. It's a nervous habit that I've had since I was little.

As Itsy moves over the road in front of me, my mind is a jumbled mess of incomplete thoughts.

Who are these people? How do they know my parents? How do they know me? How did they get my number?

I have to consciously remind myself to keep my eyes on the road. I have to get to this warehouse. The faster I do the faster I'll have answers and the faster I'll put this whole thing behind me and start over. Start my new life. I take a deep breath as Itsy turns into the parking lot in front of the warehouse. Here we go.

I hesitantly open the car door. My foot hits the concrete and it echos, letting me know how big this place really is. I look down, my feet look so small against the tile and I'm dwarfed in this large, empty building. Tucking a strand of cocoa hair behind my ear I take a big breath and fully emerge.

"Wish me luck." I say to Itsy, clicking my keys. She beeps back as my thumb makes contact with the button. I giggle. "Thanks."

The garage is bare, and I feel out of place with my yellow bug and sundress. A breeze runs through my hair, and I shiver. It's cold. My steps sound throughout the room, small tapping amplified. I can hear my heart beating loudly. It's dark, so I take my phone out and turn on the flashlight. It illuminates the room, and I see one door in the distance. I walk towards it, feet tapping along the way.

I stop four, five feet away from the door. It has a large spade on it. I open the message app and click on the unknown number and pull the picture up. I hold it in front of me and look between the two.

"Yep," I say to myself. "This is the right one."

The door is much more intricate than I had originally thought. It's like someone branded the door, black swirls dancing along the surface to form a single shape. I notice something in the corner, and take a small step to see it better. In the top corner, a single 'a' is engraved, in a swoopy font. It looks hand-done, someone's handwriting maybe. I take a step back and in the right corner, there's an upside down A, that looks the exact same except for a little bump at the end. Definitely handmade.

"I was right," I whisper to myself. Even the hushed mururmers echo loudly. I place my fingers gently on the door, and run my hand across the pattern. It's much larger than my palm, but my hands are pretty small, so that's not saying much. I trace the swirls gently, wondering who took the time to carve all this into a door. Suddenly, it clicks. I gasp. It's a card!

The ace of spades! Of course! My foster parent Gary used to gamble all the time, with the money I made, so I'm familiar with the ol 52... While I'm running my hands over it, I hear a faint buzzing. Like a phone. My hands shake as I grab the handle, and slowly I push it open.

The room is empty. There is a folding table and a chair, and that's it. Oh, and a old rotary phone, ringing, shaking. I step into the room, propping the door open. I reach for the phone instinctively, but suddenly I pull back.

"Should I..." I murmur. The phone rings in response. "Screw it!" I say, reaching for the phone.

"Hello?" I hear myself say. "Who are you?"

"Look under the phone." A deep male voice responds, not answering any of my questions. It's so low it's almost a grumble. It's smooth, like rich, dark chocolate and I shiver- this time, not because I'm cold.

"I'm holding the phone," I snark back before I can stop myself. A low chuckle grumbles through the line and my breath stills.

"Easy, tigress," He says, sounding amused. I feel myself blush at his nickname. "Pick the whole thing up. There's something for you," he says. His voice rolls like thunder and I quiver.