Omerta ||ʙᴏᴏᴋ 1||

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғɪᴠᴇ

Weeks had passed, and for once, everything seemed to be calm. Training, workouts with Cole, and the usual chaos of the mafia—nothing new, except maybe for Cole's ridiculous sexual remarks that made me want to punch him in the arm every time. But if I'm being honest, he was pretty funny once you got past that part.

Jack was okay too, physically. But every time I looked at him, guilt gnawed at me. What had happened to him, it was my fault. I knew it, and I couldn't shake it off.

I was sitting in front of my mirror, finishing up my makeup. An old friend of mine wanted to go out, and of course, my dad had to make her a fake ID so we could get into this club. I spent way too long making sure my makeup was perfect—nothing too flashy, but just enough.

"Shit, I'm going to be late," I muttered, grabbing my phone and purse, "I was supposed to meet her 30 minutes ago."

I rushed downstairs, but before I could even step outside, Hunter blocked my path.

"The hell are you wearing?" He eyed me up and down. "That dress is too tight and too short. Throw a shawl on or something. Your boobs are gonna burst out."

Hunter and I were close—too close for comfort sometimes. We were honest with each other, sometimes too honest. And usually, it was more annoying than helpful.

I rolled my eyes, "Fuck off. I'll be back later. Tell Dad not to wait up; I have no clue when I'll be home." I pushed past him, feeling his gaze follow me as I left.

I stepped out of the house and into the night, leaving the safe zone behind me. My dad's Ferrari glinted in the streetlight as I pulled out, the sound of the engine roaring as I drove toward the club. It was in the heart of the city, and as soon as I arrived, I saw the line of people waiting to get in. Heads turned when I parked.

I stepped out, and Julie, my old friend, sprinted toward me, throwing her arms around me in a bear hug.

"I've missed you so much, Sky! Damn, you look amazing. You're going to have guys falling at your feet tonight," she said with a teasing smile, elbowing me.

I smiled back, handing my keys to the valet. "Julie, I'm not here for that. They're probably gonna think I'm after a sugar daddy or that I'm some stuck-up princess."

She snorted, "Well, maybe you shouldn't be wearing a $100k Rolex and expensive-ass shoes if you don't want them to think that."

We made our way inside, and I handed the bouncer some cash to get in. Julie immediately headed for the bar, and I followed her. We took a few shots, and then, feeling the energy of the place, we hit the dance floor. The music thumped in my chest, and for a moment, I just let go—no mafia drama, no responsibilities.

I was so lost in the moment that I barely noticed the guy who grabbed my waist until it was too late. I turned to find blue eyes staring down at me. Before I could even react, he kissed me—hard, urgent. He seemed familiar, and from the brief glance I got, he looked good. I didn't care. The music drowned out everything else, and we fell into it.

When I broke the kiss, I scanned the club. "Where's the bathroom?" I asked Julie, and she pointed me in the right direction.

Without a word, I took the guy's hand and led him to a single-occupancy unisex bathroom. He locked the door behind us, and before I could process what was happening, his lips were on mine again. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was just... whatever. A distraction.

The next thing I knew, we were on the floor, clothes scattering as the noise of the club reverberated through the walls. He was quick—too quick. Honestly, it was a disappointment. If I was being honest, it was worse than my first time with Liam when we were thirteen. Quick, clumsy, and over before it even started. That's what happens when you don't know someone's name.

He dressed quickly, and I didn't say a word. I fixed myself up as best I could and threw my hair into a ponytail, ready to forget the entire thing.

That was when I heard it—someone slammed against the door. I froze. Then, a familiar, deep voice.

"COLE, STOP!" I shouted, but it didn't stop him. The door rattled under the force of his punches, and I rushed over, grabbing his arm as he went for another strike.

"Skylar, get off me," he growled, trying to shake me loose. But I wouldn't let go. I stood in front of him, defiant, my hand gripping his wrist even though it stung.

"Enough," I said, my voice firm, though my pulse raced. "We're not doing this here."

He finally stopped, breathing heavily, and in an instant, he yanked me across the club, dragging me toward the exit. I could smell the alcohol on him, but his steps were steady—he wasn't completely drunk.

"Cole, I'm taking you home, and I'm not asking," I said, determination in my voice. "I'll call Cheryl or Hunter to come get your car."

He mumbled something under his breath, but I didn't care. We were almost to the car when gunshots rang out behind us. My heart stopped.

"Drive, Skylar. I'll cover you," Cole ordered as he pulled a gun from under his shirt.

I slammed my foot on the gas, my hands shaking. The sound of bullets hitting the car sent panic into my chest, but I focused. I had to.

"Who the hell is that?" I shouted, fear creeping in.

"WHO KNOWS, JUST DRIVE!" Cole yelled, firing back at the attackers. He handed me his phone. "Call my dad. Tell him what's going on."

I fumbled with the phone, dialing Emilio's number. It rang three times before he picked up.

"Figlio, perché ci sono armi da fuoco?" he asked, his voice sharp with concern. I understood the basics of Italian from my grandmother, however this was above my knowledge.

"Emilio, this is Sky. We need backup. The Cobras are attacking us. I don't know where to go!" I shouted over the sound of gunfire.

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. "Skylar, get to safety. We'll send someone."

I swerved in and out of lanes, adrenaline coursing through me as I looked for somewhere to hide. I heard more gunshots behind us—closer now.

"Fuck the code, Cole, we need help," I screamed at him. "The cops won't get here fast enough. I—I'm scared."

His voice softened, and for a moment, he wasn't the hard, dangerous man I usually knew. "We'll be fine, mi amore. Just keep driving."

We hit a parking lot, and I parked the Ferrari near the back, leaving it in the middle of the second floor. We bolted to the nearest car with dark windows, breaking in quickly. Gunshots rang out again, but we ducked down, hearts pounding as we crawled into the trunk.

Cole pulled me close, his arm around me protectively. "You did good, Sky. You saved us tonight. You're strong," he whispered, kissing my cheek.

But then the moment was shattered as I heard voices. Deep, threatening voices.

"Skylar, darling, we're going to have some fun with you before we kill you," one of the men said, his voice low and predatory. "We're going to make Emilio's son watch as we—"

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I didn't make a sound. I couldn't. I just lay there, terrified.

Cole kept me close, his hand firmly over my mouth, and finally, the voices faded. The car went quiet again.

After what felt like hours, I heard a familiar voice—my dad's.

"DAD, I'M IN HERE!" I screamed, my voice cracking.

The trunk opened, and I smiled, relieved that I was finally safe.