UNDENIABLE ATTRACTION (Falling For A Mafia Lord)

Chapter 1: Mia

“Come here you little weasel.” his deep voice roars in anger.

Tears run down my eyes as I wrap my arms around my knees, rocking myself back and forth in the tiny closet.

His foot step gets louder, the thud tells me he is climbing the stairs. I squeeze myself further into the closet, hoping to disappear.

“You little cunt, where are you?” he thunders, flinging my room door open.

My palm flies to my mouth in order to stifle my cries, my hands are trembling, the clothes in the closet are very little to cover me.

“Gotcha!!” he laughs, drawing the closet open, dragging me out.

“Let go of me!!!” I scream, throwing my little feet in the air.

He pulls my hair hard, and swings me to the other side of the room. My back crashes into the wall. Pain sears through me.

A scream tears out of my as I sob into my palms. His hand goes to his jeans to undo the belt.

“No, no, no please.” I scream, jumping off my pillow. I clutch my blankie in my fingers, squeezing it tightly as I try to breathe.

My eyelids flutter open as I repeat to myself that it is all gone. I am safe now. no one can hurt me any more.

The sound of my alarm snaps me out of my pity state. My legs automatically goes over the edge of the bed as I push myself to the bathroom.

My face looks pale, my blue eyes staring right back at me emotionless. I feel numb.

Gathering my long, thick red hair into a messy bun as I rush to take a shower. I am almost late for work.

Working at a cafe isn't the best job for a graduate like me, but getting a corporate job isn't a walk in the park either.

And because I have bills to pay working at a cafe, Pretty’s, will have to do until I get a better job.

Breezing past my small bedroom to the closet, I fish out simple jeans paired with a cotton top. Taking five steps to my table, I spray my cheap perfume.

I am low on cash so every single penny must be spent wisely.

My little home is nothing too much, just a small mattress on the floor, a bedside table, and a tiny closet. Even though it's small, it's still mine, and it makes me happy.

I speed out of my apartment, clumsily locking the door behind me.

“GOOD MORNING MRS FREDA!!!!” I scream as I run past her door on the ground floor.

On getting outside I am panting like a dog, because I live on the third floor. I swear to God I need to exercise more, but then it's not my fault our landlord refuses to fix the darn elevator.

Pretty’s is about five blocks away so I refuse to spend a penny on transport.

I run faster once I am outside, yelling