Mafia's Vendetta
Mafia's Vendetta
Author: J. Tarr



My head hits the wall so hard that I am momentarily dazed. I try to level out my breathing, but it is proving futile with a fractured rib - not to mention the grip of a hand around my neck.

“What… What do you want?” I stammer, digging my nails into his knuckles and struggling to wrest them from around my neck. With his hood on, I can barely see who it is that has broken into my home and started assaulting me while I was under the influence of alcohol. With my senses inebriated and my guard down, I cannot defend myself; this man will surely kill me.

Someone must have known… and I am starting to see a pattern.

His grip tightens around my neck, and I let out a strangled grunt. “Pl…ease…!” I beg with tears slipping down my face. Daniella’s unhappy face this evening flashed in my mind; I have to apologise. I have to make it up to her!

Conjuring up enough strength, I push him away, but he seizes me by the wrist and I stumble over my feet. These heels will be the death of me one day, hopefully not today!

My assailant grabs me, and we fall to the ground. He pins my arms above my head with one hand and my head swims in chaos. This seems familiar, this man’s body… it all seems familiar.

Before I can contemplate as to why, I feel the edge of a blade at my throat and my eyes wrench open. No! No, I cannot die here, not now! There are so many people I still have to apologise to for my behaviour this evening. I cannot die, not here and not now!

With the knife pressed firmly against my skin, he leans down close to my ear and I can feel his breath in my neck. “Buon compleanno, Principessa,” he murmurs in my ear and my head snaps towards the man above me. His voice… No…

He now has his hood down and my heart stops as my fears are confirmed. With wide eyes, I take in his face illuminated by the moonlight; green eyes that used to bore into my soul, soft lips that have explored every inch of my body, my hands have been in his soft hair so many times while we kissed… How… Can this be?

“Dante…?” I whisper incredulously, looking him straight in the eyes, but his deadly intent does not waver. In fact, as I say his name, the blade moves deeper into my skin. My mind goes blank when he lifts the hand holding the knife and I close my eyes, knowing that this would indeed be my final hours.

The love of my life has come to kill me.

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