Prisoner to Mr. Mafia (Book 1 In PTMM Series)

Chapter: 2

Gianna Pov

You know when you hold on to something so tight, because it's the only thing giving you comfort. That was Yana and I at this moment.

 Remaining in the car, I surveyed my surroundings and realized that the SUV's interior was engulfed in darkness. Every detail, from the seats to the steering wheel, even the driver himself, was cloaked in black attire. Adriano occupied the front seat beside the driver, while Yana and I found our place in the back. Ahead of us, another SUV came into view, carrying some of the men I had glimpsed before—though I could only see their legs, choosing not to meet their gaze.

I made an attempt to summon my most courageous demeanor for Yana, but deep down, even I understood that my facade was far from convincing.

An undeniable aura of dominance enveloped Adriano. His very presence exuded authority, power, and unwavering strength. Adriano Basilio, the Mafia Boss of the Italians, held a position beyond reckoning; he was the Capo di Capi, the supreme leader of all Mafia bosses in the United States. Countless tales about Adriano had circulated, painting a vivid picture of his enigmatic persona.

Rumors spoke of a chilling incident when, at a mere 13 years old, he claimed his first life by crushing the victim's throat with his bare hands. The trail of bodies he left in his wake was said to be beyond quantification.

A shiver ran down my spine, a stark realization settling in that we might soon contribute to the mounting body count.

I scrutinized Adriano, noting the unwavering rigidity of his posture. His muscles appeared taut, his face concealed from view. It hardly required a genius to infer that his countenance bore an inscrutable, vacant expression.

I studied Adriano, and noticed his rigid straight posture. All his muscles look tight and I can't see his face but it doesn't take a genius to know it had a blank expression on it. 

I leaned back and looked at Yana she was slowly drifting off to sleep on my shoulder. My head swung to look outside and noticed the sky turning into a mixture of orange, and yellow. The sun was setting. 

We had been driving all day....but how? Wherever we were going, I had a feeling my father or the Russians would never find us. Maybe they are waiting for night to come and then to kill us. My eyes started brimming with tears. I always had a shred of hope that I would someday get to do all the things I wanted. That maybe, just maybe I would find true happiness. How naïve that was. 

Is this how I was supposed to leave this world? Without knowing happiness or freedom? Without knowing life and what it is to truly live? 

I felt my tears coming down my face one by one. I wiped them away quickly, not wanting the monster to see me. 

I closed my eyes and started taking deep breathes, trying to control my emotions. 

I thought back to what Adriano said earlier and that smirk that held a million meanings. What did he have planned for me? Was I bait? Was I supposed to entice my father? I scoff inwardly. I doubt my father would care if I was taken. But knowing who took me, he would only try to get back what was his. I was like a pawn in a game. 

The Italians and Russians have been sworn enemies since the 1920's . The story goes that the Russian boss at the time, fell in love with the Italian boss's wife. When the Italian boss found out he got so furious that he pulled a gun on his wife and shot her right between her eyes. The Italian boss was still raging with fury that he set a plan in action to raid all of the Russian estates around the country and kill all the Russian's men, woman and children. Word of the attack got to the Russian boss and he became furious. He gathered his men and waited for the attacks, but they never came. And till this day there hasn't been a full war yet.