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Mafia's Lost Princess 67
Damon The suite was an aftermath of a war zone. The door had been broken down and was hanging off the hinges. The expensive furniture inside the living area had been upturned and used as a makeshift barricade. Behind the largest couch were a few droplets of blood. Corpses littered the floor and the walls bore bullet holes and bloodstains. On the stairs lay another pile of bodies, one hanging off the railings, looking like it would fall with a slight nudge. Behind me, I could hear my men turning the bodies around to see if they recognized any. More bodies littered the hallway to the suite. The pristine white marble and walls were stained with drips and puddles of blood, while bullet holes decorated the walls at strange and abrupt places. The chandelier that once beautified the hallway lay shattered on the floor. I stood at the end of the hallway, staring out at the stained glass into the street below. I knew I wouldn't find Isabella in her room, but my hand twitched desperately to o
Mafia's Lost Princess 68
Damon "What about her friend?" I asked. "She's in surgery," the man responded. "Leave us," I said, dismissing them all. I pulled the stool beside her bed closer and sat. She looked different. Her skin was somehow paler than normal, making her look overly lifeless. Her mouth was open as a result of the tube that was shoved into her throat. Was it that bad? I questioned myself. Was my absence really that bad? Did it warrant an attack on her? The hotel was supposed to be safe?! Questions like that swirled in my mind until the familiar soft vibration on my phone happened in my pocket. It was Frank. I couldn't hear a word he said, and I didn't know whether it was because I had still not quite accepted the situation or the fact that I simply hated the smell of hospitals, and I hated the fact that Isabella was in one. Frank said something again, and then another. "Call me back," I said and then hung up. Hopefully, Frank shouldn't be so angry, but he wasn't my focus. My hand caugh
Mafia's Lost Princess 69
Damon Finally, when the last bullet casing hit the ground, the only sound was the steady thumping of the beat. It served as a driving force, matching my steps as I made my way up the stairs to the second floor of the club. A hallway greeted me, its lights flashing from blue to green to purple, hurting my eyes. Doors were placed at regular intervals, most likely leading to private rooms that one would pay a fortune for. I could sense the people inside, their fear evident on their young faces. One by one, I opened each door, but none of them led to the room I was looking for. I continued until I reached the last one at the end of the hall. Without much warning, I kicked open the door. The sight was different from the others. Instead of the red light, the room was brightly lit with a normal white one. It was decadent and gilded with gold, from the floor to the ceiling. Seated behind the desk was a man about my age. He looked surprised, making me think that the room was soundproof.
Mafia's Lost Princess 70
Isabella 5 hours before: I was nursing a broken heart and a sore shoulder. The shoulder wasn't as painful, but the heart felt like it had split me down the middle and threatened to pull me in different directions. I knew Damon was ruthless, but I didn't think he would extend that ruthlessness to me. I was still staring at the door after he walked out, hoping that he would come back and tell me he would go and find Pablo. From what he told me, Pablo didn't deserve to be saved and might have been the architect of his own misfortune, but he was the man who cared for me, and I would not repay his strange acts of kindness with complete desertion. Or, I would wait. Perhaps if Damon came back later, I would ask him again. Still, the look he gave me when he left was scary. It reminded me of the look I saw when he saved me the first time. His eyes craved blood in some way, even though the urge wasn't as strong, I could see it. I lay on my bed and pressed my head against the pillow, choos
Mafia's Lost Princess 71
Isabella In my mind, I woke up in my old room. Not the one I had in Rome, but the one on Aalia. High ceilings and the chandelier greeted me. The lovely scent of jasmine and lavender lingered through the room, as was the air freshener I liked to use when I was younger. I looked down to see myself in the nightgown that I loved to wear when I was 14. I refused to let Mama throw it away because I loved the baby blue color so much, so I requested that my comforter be in the same color and fabric. My papa got it for me one random day when I was 14, and I had been wearing it since then. I looked up to find Cassandra sitting across the room. Her legs were folded across her lap. It wasn't the 18-year-old Cassandra I knew; this one was older. Her dyed blonde hair was cut short into a pixie style. Her eyes were wide brown and were lined with so much eyeliner she looked like she was cosplaying an Egyptian outfit. On her cheeks was a light dusting of blush that I bet she was hoping to make h
Mafia's Lost Princess 72
Isabella Damon placed a soft kiss on my lips and then on my forehead again before speaking into my ear. "Go back to sleep. I'm here," he said, and like the trickster he was, his voice lured me back into sleep like a lullaby. By the time I opened my eyes, it was bright outside, and Damon was still inside the room. He was seated on the couch that was placed beside a door that I figured led to the bathroom. Most importantly, my throat felt as though it was made of sandpaper, and my tongue was so dry I thought I was in a desert. I looked beside me to the dresser table and saw a jug of water with a glass beside it. Just as I was reaching for the glass, I felt a hand on mine, lowering it. It was warm, comforting, and large as it enveloped mine gently. Suddenly, I was exhausted by the little activity that I had performed. I was momentarily startled by the sudden movement of the bed. The half of it that my torso was on suddenly started moving upwards until I was in a near sitting positi
Mafia's Lost Princess 73
Isabella Two days later, even after I saw Paula, I said nothing to Damon. I was lying to myself and keeping something from him. Perhaps he could tell because every time he came close to me, I would flinch and turn my head away as though he had offended me. The reality was that I was angry with myself for not saying what needed to be said. Perhaps I needed another shot, or perhaps I needed some time away for a while. I shook my head. Going away was the same thing as being a coward, and I wasn't raised to be one. Perhaps my life after 15 had taught me to run as the only way to survive, but I always knew that I would one day face the thing that was chasing me: my birthright. I leaned back against the pillow of my hospital bed and turned towards the window. It was night when I woke up from my nap to find that I was alone. The last time Damon came, I started to avoid his gaze and gave him one-word answers. I wasn't surprised that he had left, even though he promised to be here, but w
Mafia's Lost Princess 74
Isabella I went back to Paula's room every day after the small conversation I had with Michael. She was sleeping for most of the time until the fourth day when I found her awake. She had a bright smile on her face as soon as she saw me. She looked better, less weak, and more capable of getting up on her own. "Hey," she whispered to me when I sat beside her. "You're okay?" she asked. I was torn between saying yes and saying no. Yes would mean alive because I was constantly in a state of turmoil, and no would mean that I was in pain. So, I chose both. She looked at me as though I had grown a second head and then giggled. This was the Paula I was familiar with, and I felt at ease. "I'll feel better when I tell you something," I said. "What is it?" she asked. I told her about who I was, where I was from, and why she was kidnapped. By the time I told her about who Damon was, she gasped and covered her mouth. "I knew it," she whispered, as though she had happened upon the secret o
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