Seized Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle
Mia
Fuck.
Tears pour down my cheeks making it difficult for me to even put my key into my apartment door. Leaning against it, I take a deep ragged breath, count to ten, then try again. This time my key slips in, just in time, as I hear someone else coming up the stairs to the hall.
If it’s the creeper next door then I want to be in with the door locked before he drops by for a visit. My mom always used to tell me to try to find the good in people, but there are some who just aren’t good, and he’s one of them.
I know that he sits right inside his door to watch through his peephole when I’m coming and going. I’ve heard him moan when I walk by, and that memory makes me slam the door hard and flick the lock before sliding the chain in place and leaning against it.
My heart slams hard in my chest when I hear footsteps pause outside my door. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray that he’ll walk on and not bother me tonight.
I just can’t handle it tonight. Everything fell apart and now I’m totally fucked, and if that creeper tries to bother me, I just might snap.
When his footsteps continue, I exhale hard, then sink down so that I’m sitting on the floor, my back pressed up against the door. Dropping my keys, I cradle my head in my hands and try to think through what I’m going to do.
I just lost my job. That means that I’m not going to have the rent for the month. Not having rent means that I need to find somewhere else to live.
But who the hell is going to open their door to someone who doesn’t have a job? I wouldn’t, that’s for damn sure, and I’m the one who needs a bit of charity.
Thinking about that makes me think about Lorenzo. His suit probably cost more than I pay in rent for the entire fucking year. Anger washes over me when I remind myself that he’s the reason I got fired. Sure, he might not want to admit that, and I might not want to think about the fact that the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen is the reason I’m now completely fucked, but it’s true.
If he hadn’t made me stay and pour them all drinks then I wouldn’t have been late getting back to my station. At the same time that I want to blame him, though, I have a feeling that it’s all partly my fault.
I didn’t want to walk away from him. If I’m being honest with myself, I wanted to be near him. There’s something electric about him. No, something magnetic. He drew me in like I’ve never felt before with another person and walking away from him was so damn hard.
And, in the end, it was too late.
“Fuck,” I mutter, angrily wiping tears from my eyes before forcing myself to stand up. Sitting on the floor while I dissolve in a puddle of tears might feel good, but it’s not going to help me out. As much as I want to throw the world’s biggest pity party, I need to start packing.
Jessica will want the cash in the morning when she gets home from stripping and if I don’t have it then it’s going to get ugly. Might as well have all of my shit boxed up so that I don’t have to listen to her screech. The louder and more annoying she is about me not having the money, the more likely it is that the creeper next door will figure out what’s going on.
The last thing I want is him coming around and acting like he’s going to help me out.
Okay. I can do this. I’ve done hard things before, which is what I tell myself as I walk into my bedroom. Well, calling it a bedroom is being a bit generous. It’s a large closet, I’m pretty sure, with just enough space to scoot around the bed and one hanging rack on the wall over the foot of my bed where I store my clothes.
“Luckily, I don’t have a lot to pack.” My voice is loud in the still of the room. “Luckily, I totally have a great house to move into,” I lie, trying to make myself feel better. “I’m going to be so happy.”
A tear drips off the end of my nose but I don’t bother to wipe my cheeks any longer. This sucks, and that’s all there is to it.
I’m almost done cramming everything into an old suitcase that I got when I aged out of foster care when a loud knock on the door makes me freeze.
It could be the creeper from next door. I doubt that Jessica forgot her key, because she’s not due home for a while yet. While I debate who the hell else could be standing in the hall, I slowly make my way out of my room, moving as quietly as possible.
We don’t have a peephole on our door. The entire door had to be replaced a few months ago when a guy Jessica was dating put his foot through it, and apparently our landlord couldn’t find a door with a peephole. Because of that, I have no idea who’s knocking on the door.
Carefully, like it may be hot, I press my ear up against the door and listen. There’s someone out there, I can hear them shuffling their feet as they wait for me, but they don’t knock again.
Maybe they’ll go away. Breathing as quietly as possible, I step away from the door. My heart beats out a fast rhythm in my chest and I feel a tickle at the base of my spine as I debate whether or not I should run for it.
And where exactly would I go? I don’t know, but adrenaline courses through my body, spiking when I hear the knock again. Whoever is out there is hitting the door so hard that it’s shaking on its hinges. My eyes flick up to the chain. I know that I set it in place, but I don’t know how much protection it’s really going to offer me if someone is determined to break down the door.
“Mia, let me in. I know that you got fired and I want to talk to you about how I can help you.” It’s a man’s voice, and one that I recognize all too well. My throat closes up and I take another step away from the door.
Right now, I just want to put as much space between me and the door as possible. Fear and anger mingle in me as I try to think about who the hell would tell him what happened at work. Probably my bastard boss. He was pissed that he was going to have to stand out in my spot for a little while until another girl became available to do it for him.
Bastard.
“Listen, Mia, you can live with me. I know that we had our problems in the past, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t work them out now.” Matt, my ex, grabs the doorknob and shakes it. The entire door rattles in its frame and I turn, running into the kitchen to grab a knife.
It’s a piece of shit, like everything else in my life, and incredibly dull, but hopefully it will let me hold him off if he does break the door down.
“Mia!” He’s not even trying to be calm and kind any longer. “Mia, let me in. Now!”
“No,” I whisper, even though there’s no chance at all of him hearing me speak. “No, you can’t come in.” I shake my head, gripping the knife handle so tightly that I feel like it’s going to become a part of my body. When this all ends—however it ends—I don’t know if I’m even going to be able to let it go and put it down.
My heart’s no longer beating out a steady rhythm. It’s skipping beats and jumping all over the place as I try to keep breathing.
“Mia!” He kicks the door and I gasp as the entire thing seems to bow in towards me. Another kick and the sound of wood splintering fills the tiny apartment.
I shriek and crouch to the floor, covering my ears with my hands. The blade of the knife presses up flat against my head and I curl myself into a tiny ball like that’s actually going to help save me.
Matt wants me, which means that he’s going to get me. He’s cruel, focused, and there isn’t anyone here to save me. For a moment, I hope that my creepy neighbor will hear the commotion and come to help me out, but I know that that won’t ever happen. He’s a creeper, but a pussy, and he’ll be listening to this without even thinking about coming to save me.
I’m on my own. For real.
An image of Lorenzo flashes through my mind. If he were here, I’m sure that he would save me. He’d stop the bullshit outside and keep Matt from hurting me. But he’s not here and it’s my own damn fault that I’m in this situation. I can blame him all I want to, but I’m still the one who served him instead of leaving the private room.
All because I thought I wanted to get to know him better.
All because I felt drawn to him in a way I’ve never felt before.
My train of thought is completely derailed when Matt kicks the door again, this time sending it off its hinges. Shrieking, I try to stand to get away from him. I should have been hiding, should have been trying to go out the window, should have done something like call for help, but all I did was curl up like a damn armadillo.
And now I’m fucked.
“There you are, my love,” Matt says, walking across the apartment to me. I scramble to my feet and he reaches out, grabbing my shoulder to keep me from running. “I came to save you. Just consider me your knight in shining armor.”
Horror washes over me when I realize that nobody is coming.
Matt’s not a knight in shining armor. He’s evil and now I’m really and truly fucked.
