Mob Ties

Chapter 1

Aaliyah's heart pounded against her ribcage as she crouched at the top of the stairs, her breath shallow and ragged. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the silent house, sending icy tendrils of fear snaking down her spine. She knew that sound all too well - it was the sound of danger, of chaos, of her worst nightmares coming to life.

With trembling hands, she crept down the stairs, each step creaking beneath her weight. The scene that greeted her in the living room made her blood run cold. Four figures, cloaked in darkness and masked like phantoms, surrounded her parents. Her mother was bound to a chair, tears streaking down her face, while her father lay on the floor, his body battered and broken.

"Get down here," one of the men growled, his voice low and menacing.

Aaliyah's heart lurched in her chest as strong hands grabbed her, dragging her roughly to the ground. She landed with a thud, pain shooting through her side, but she barely noticed as she stared wide-eyed at the nightmare unfolding before her.

"Please don't touch her, or my wife!" her father's voice was strained, filled with desperation.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears as the men advanced, their intentions clear. Aaliyah's mind raced, her thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and confusion. She had always known that her family's wealth and status came with dangers, but she had never imagined anything like this.

As the men loomed over her, their faces twisted into cruel masks of malice, Aaliyah felt a surge of anger rise within her. She may have been young, but she was not powerless. With a strength born of desperation, she fought back, lashing out with fists and feet, anything to protect her family.

But it was futile. In the end, they were outnumbered, outmatched, and outgunned. And as the men finally left, their presence a dark shadow lingering in the shattered remains of their home, Aaliyah knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

She helped her mother untie the ropes, her hands shaking with adrenaline and fear. "Should I call the police, mommy?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room.

But her mother shook her head, her expression grim. "No, baby, they can't help us. Get the first aid kit for me," she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them.

And as Aaliyah tended to her father's wounds, her mind whirled with questions and uncertainties. Who were those men? What did they want? And most importantly, how were they going to survive the shadows of the past that now threatened to consume them whole?

As Aaliyah sat in the quaint coffee shop, the buzz of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped her. It was a crisp autumn day, the leaves outside slowly transitioning from vibrant greens to fiery reds and oranges. Despite the serene surroundings, a sense of unease gnawed at Aaliyah's insides, a lingering reminder of the events that had unfolded over the weekend.

Sipping on her iced coffee, she tried to lose herself in the rhythmic tapping of her fingers on the keyboard, the words on her laptop screen blurring together as she worked on her latest project. But try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

Her father's upcoming charity event loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, a reminder of the life she was being forced into against her will. Despite her reluctance, her mother had insisted that she attend, the prospect of being paraded around like a prized possession filling Aaliyah with a sense of dread.

As she packed up her belongings and made her way out of the coffee shop, she couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. Every shadow seemed to loom a little larger, every passerby a potential threat. With trembling hands, she reached into her bag, her fingers closing around the cold steel of the knife she kept hidden for moments just like this.

Heart pounding in her chest, she quickened her pace, the familiar streets of the city suddenly feeling foreign and menacing. Every sound was amplified, every shadow seemed to shift and dance in the fading light of the day.

Finally reaching the safety of her Range Rover, Aaliyah let out a shaky breath, her hands still clenched tightly around the knife. She knew she couldn't let her guard down, not in a world where danger lurked around every corner.

East's frustration simmered beneath the surface as he paced back and forth in his father's opulent office, the scent of cigar smoke hanging heavy in the air. His father, Frank, sat behind the imposing mahogany desk, a picture of calm authority as he regarded his son with a mixture of patience and exasperation.

"Dad, I don't wanna get married! I already have a girlfriend!" East's voice rang out, echoing off the walls of the room. But his protests fell on deaf ears as his father continued to puff on his cigar, seemingly unfazed by his son's outburst.

With a sigh, East ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. He may have been his father's only son, but that didn't mean he was willing to blindly follow in his footsteps, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

But Frank was unwavering in his resolve, his tone firm as he addressed his son. "Look, you know how these things work. We have obligations, debts that need to be repaid. And besides, you're marrying a good girl. It's time you started thinking about the family legacy."

East bristled at his father's words, resentment bubbling up inside him like molten lava. He may have been groomed from birth to inherit his father's empire, but that didn't mean he had to sacrifice his own happiness in the process.

Sinking into the plush leather chair opposite his father, East resigned himself to his fate, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "Who is she?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Frank's gaze softened ever so slightly as he met his son's eyes. "Gotti's daughter, Aaliyah," he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of regret.

East's mind raced as he processed the information. He knew of the Gotti family - powerful, influential, and not to be trifled with. But their daughter was a mystery to him, a pawn in a game of power and politics that he wanted no part of.

"You'll meet her at the next charity event, son," Frank added, as if that were the end of the discussion.

And with that, the weight of East's impending marriage settled over him like a suffocating blanket, his thoughts consumed by the woman he was destined to wed and the life he was powerless to escape.

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