The Mafia's Jewel (BWWM)

39

I step into the café Lounge, and the first thing that hits me is the ambiance—an exquisite blend of sophistication and whimsy that permeates the space. The dim lighting casts a warm, inviting glow over the wooden tables and plush chairs.

The walls are adorned with vibrant artworks, an eclectic mix of abstract paintings and whimsical sketches. It's very much Amara's style, reminding me of the countless art shows and galleries we used to visit back in college.

I take a moment to appreciate the art before scanning the room for Amara. My eyes finally land on her sitting in the back, near a large window that overlooks a small garden. She's engrossed in her phone but looks up as I approach, waving enthusiastically. Her smile is infectious, and I can't help but return it, despite the anxiety simmering beneath my calm facade.

"Jules, glad you could make it," Amara says as I reach the table.

"It wasn't easy," I reply, slipping into the seat opposite her. "You know how things are."

She nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Yeah, I can imagine."

We sit in silence for a moment, each of us taking in the other's presence. It's been too long since we've had a chance to catch up like this. The waiter comes by, and we order our drinks—an espresso for me, and a matcha latte for Amara. Once he leaves, we settle into an easy conversation, reminiscing about our college days.

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Remember when we drank so much tequila that night, I thought my stomach was going to explode."

"Then we had an test the next day," she says. "We barely passed."

"Hey, a pass is a pass," I say, raising my cup in a mock toast.

We talk about old friends, professors, and the wild parties we used to go to. It feels good to reminisce, to be reminded of a time when life was simpler, free of the complications and dangers that now define my days.

"So, what have you been up to?" I ask.

Amara takes a sip of her latte, her expression turning more serious. "I've been working at this fancy restaurant downtown. It's a great place, but I'm considering getting a normal 9-5 job."

"Really? Why the change?"

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. "The job market here sucks. And as much as I love the restaurant, it's not sustainable in the long run. I'm thinking about going overseas for more opportunities."

"Where to?"

"Maybe Paris or Tokyo. I've heard there are some great prospects there, and it would be an adventure, you know?"

I nod, understanding her desire for change and new experiences. "That sounds amazing. I hope it works out for you."

"Thanks," she says, her eyes softening. "But enough about me. How are things with you and Leone?"

I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. "Complicated, as always," I say finally. "There's been another attack on one of his warehouses. The Rizzo gang is getting desperate."

Amara's expression darkens. "That's dangerous, Jules. You need to be careful."

"I know," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But it's hard. Leone... he's not the man I thought he was."

Amara reaches across the table, taking my hand in hers. "Listen, Jules, I can help you. I know a guy who can get you out of here, somewhere safe."

My heart skips a beat. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," she says firmly. "You're my friend. I don't want to see you get hurt."

I squeeze her hand, gratitude welling up inside me. "Thank you, Amara. That means a lot."

She smiles, a determined look in her eyes. "We'll get you out of this mess, Jules. I promise."

We sit there for a while longer, talking about logistics and making plans. Amara's confidence and determination give me hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness that has enveloped my life.

As we finish our drinks, I can't help but feel a sense of relief. For the first time in a long while, I have a plan, a way out. And with Amara's help, I might just be able to break free from the grip of the Mafia and start a new life, far away from the dangers and fears that have haunted me for so long.

"Jules," Amara says, her voice breaking through my thoughts, "I know this is scary, but you're strong. You can do this."

I nod, taking a deep breath. "I know. And I'm ready."

I sit down with Amara, my heart pounding in my chest. We talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly as we reminisce about college and the times we shared. It's a bittersweet distraction from the looming reality of my situation.

As the conversation lulls, Amara leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jules, I can get you out now if you want. You don't have to go back."

The gravity of her words sinks in, and I feel a mix of fear and relief. "Now? Are you sure it's safe?"

"Yes," she says firmly. "I've made all the arrangements. But you have to be sure. There's no turning back."

I look down, thinking of the feline creature in my home. "Can you take care of Kiwi?"

Amara nods without hesitation. "Of course. I'll take care of her like she's my own."

Taking a deep breath, I make my decision. "Okay, let's go."

We stand up, our movements synchronized by the urgency of the moment. Leaving the café, I feel a strange sense of finality. The vibrant art on the walls, the cozy atmosphere, all seem like a distant memory already. As we step outside into the bustling city, I know there's no turning back.