(Three months later) Moxie I tilt my head, my eyes obscured by a piece of fabric. I won't deny it, I'm frightened. But I need to stay focused. Being the daughter of a mafia boss, fear should not be part of my vocabulary. I can sense danger lurking around every corner! I was born resilient; fear has no place in me. I attempt to remove the blindfold by moving my eyes. The stench of the place suggests it's far from pleasant. I'm seated on a hard wooden chair. If this were to be my last day on earth, I should probably start praying to God, Allah, or whatever deity people believe in. For heaven's sake, I've been kidnapped; survival is uncertain. However, the discomfort of the chair I'm sitting on is currently my primary annoyance. I was immobilized, bound tightly. Whoever was responsible for this clearly knew me well. The smell suggested I was in a dimly lit, squalid place, akin to a beggar's dwelling, if I had to guess. After successfully removing the blindfold, I quickly scanned
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