"Mafia's African Rose

War cry

      The war was getting worse. My sister Nora and I were hiding behind the couch, terrified. The Biafra War was far worse than anything our parents had ever told us. Living through it was a nightmare.

Suddenly, Dad burst through the back door, panting heavily.

"Nora, my dear, I need you and Angel to run to the coast as fast as you can. Wait for me there," he said, hugging Nora tightly without even looking at me.

I was the youngest, and my birth had taken our mother's life. Ever since, Dad had never cared for me—he blamed me for her death.

Nora grabbed my arm, and we started running. Our once beautiful ranch was now in flames. Tears filled my eyes as we avoid being hit by bullets, racing toward the coast.

When we arrived, there was a large ship waiting. Not long after, Dad came running toward us, carrying two bags—one was Nora's, and the other was his. He hadn't brought anything for me.

Mr. Kofi, wearing an engineer's helmet, walked out of the ship. He spoke to my dad.

"What's this, Andrew? I told you, I can only take two people—no more."

My dad looked between me and Nora before replying. "Okay. Nora and I will go."

Mr. Kofi looked shocked. "Andrew, what about your daughter, Angel? What will happen to her?"

"I don't care," Dad said coldly. "Just get Nora and me to safety before the war reaches us."

Nora looked heartbroken, but she didn't say anything. Tears welled up in my eyes. No one loved me.

  
Suddenly, I saw my father collapse to the ground, a bullet wound in his stomach. "Daddy!" Nora screamed, crying hysterically.

"They killed Dad," I whispered, staring at the soldiers in the distance, armed with heavy guns. Biafran soldiers were closing in fast.

Gunshots echoed around us, and the war was creeping closer by the second. Mr. Kofi grabbed Nora and me, pulling us inside the ship. He looked grim but focused.

Once inside, he led us to a hidden spot. "Stay here. Don't come out unless I come to get you. I'll bring food only at night," he said sternly before leaving us.

Nora sat silently for a while, then she finally spoke. "They killed Dad, and you didn't even say anything."

"Come on, Nora, I'm as shocked as you. Keep your voice down," I whispered.

"Keep my voice down?" she yelled. "Dad is dead, and all you care about is keeping quiet?"

Though he never cared for me, I was heartbroken. He was still my dad. "I'm just as hurt as you," I replied softly.

"No, he wasn't your dad. You're a bastard! You killed Mom, and now you killed Dad too!" she screamed, her anger blazing.

Before I could respond, the door burst open. A tall, terrifying white man stood there, looking at us with a cold, emotionless stare.

We were now sitting at a large dining table. Around us were white men, huge and muscular, with terrifying faces and even more terrifying guns—bigger and deadlier than the ones the Biafran soldiers had. I swallowed hard, nervous under their gaze. Some of the men stared at me with a look I recognized—lust.

I regretted wearing a skimpy off-shoulder yellow dress that day. My chest was on full display, and I could feel their eyes on me.

"So, what were you two doing on my ship?" the tall man asked. Nora and I exchanged nervous glances. I took a deep breath and spoke up.

"Uh... sir... there's a war in our city. We ran here for safety," I said meekly, unable to meet his eyes. His accent was Italian, strong and distinct.

"Hmm. I see." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, but before he could say more, a man handed him a phone.

"It's the Boss," the man said. I felt a chill run down my spine. This terrifying man wasn't even the boss. We were doomed.

He answered the phone. "Hello, Boss," he said, glancing at me and then at Nora. I couldn't help but admire his looks despite the situation—blonde buzz cut, piercing green eyes, and a nose ring. He was the most striking man I had ever seen. How crazy was I, admiring the man who would likely kill us?