I rush into my room, slamming the door behind me, panting a little with anxiety as I spin and stare at the doorknob. What – what the hell is happening!?
I attune my ears, instinctually, towards the living room, desperate to know what is happening. Even though Christian wants to keep me away from this, my hands itch to go back to the door, to open it, to peek out – just to get a hint.
I mean, am I in danger here?
Should I…should I be doing something? Should I be hiding under the bed? Or –
I groan, panic starting to lace through my veins and making me shake all over. This mafia life with all its twists and turns – I’m not sure I was mad for it.
I close my eyes so I can concentrate on the muffled sounds coming from the living room. Three voices I recognize – Christian, cool and cold, Fr
