All Chapters of The Mafia's Little Raven: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

LEILA..The rain never smelt fresh here. Never. It soaked into the old, lined building that looked tired of existence and clung to the air, melding with the stale rot of spilled beer and the acrid tang of burnt cigarettes thrown on the pavement of the alley shrouded in darkness.I strode through it anyway, fingers tightening around the damp bills in my hands. The wetness didn’t bother me. Once dried, it could be used again.I counted the notes slow, doing maths I was never good at. Mom’s hospital bill. Dad’s debt…there’s nothing left.I barely registered the chipped brick of my building, or the termite-infested wooden stair, until I was at the door of my apartment.The moment I creaked the door open, I knew something was wrong.“Thank goodness you’re back.” My father scurried towards me, his breath burning with the pungent smell of cheap beer, his washed black singlet hanging loosely over his alien bony frame. Thanks to years of drug usage.My stomach twisted. But it wasn’t his si

LEILA..A thick gulp went down my throat, the hard slurping sound slipping into my ears. Thousands of words burned on my tongue. I could utter none. Not with Annette’s words echoing at the back of my mind.Squeezing the gown into my hands, I rose to my feet and began heading to the bathroom when Damien’s voice stopped me—midway.“Where are you going?”I turned. “To change. Obviously.”“You can change here,” he said, so casually.My eyes bulged wide. “In front of you?”Damien leaned against the door frame, arm crossed across his chest and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “We showered together when we were younger.” His voice came out low—lazy.The air in my lungs stilled as the memory hit me. The two of us, years ago, slipping into the shower like it meant nothing. Clothes flying off without a thought. A care. Damien was smaller then—smaller than me. So short for his age that he barely reached my shoulders. His body was small—too small.Now, he was something else.I stared at him

LEILA..His words hung in the air, heavy and stifling.They came his fingers, trailing, from the middle of my collar bone, down the valley between my breasts, his touch like a red metal branding iron—hot against my skin. It was like he was marking me—claiming me.Damien’s gaze remained on me as his fingers continued down until they stopped a few inches above the thong line.He left that place untouched. But, somehow it burned hotter than places he had touched.My breath trembled in my lungs and my logic began to waver, breaking beneath his stare.But I couldn’t—couldn’t do it. Not just because of what he would do to me. But because this was Damien.The boy I grew up with. The boy who used to be caring and soft. Who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly?But that boy was nowhere to be found, no matter how deep I looked into his eyes. The man that stood before was a stranger…a stranger with a familiar face. That was what Damien had become.Accepting his deal was like dining with the devil and we k