A Deal With The Mafia King

(Ophelia’s Perspective.

"You either leave this flight with a future, or you leave it with nothing," I said to myself as I pressed my skirt down.

There was a lot of noise coming from the boarding gate—loud clicks of pricey shoes, rolling baggage, and gentle laughter. With a trained eye, I looked around the crowd. First-rate. The best of the greatest only. And I needed the greatest more than ever tonight.

A man walked by me wearing a dapper grey suit. Too many smiles, neat shoes, and a Rolex. No. Another is talking on his phone too loudly while wearing dark glasses indoors. Not at all.

With my heart slamming against my ribs like fists on a closed door, I moved my bag higher on my shoulder and stepped into the queue. I had this plan. I'm alive. Look for a dude. A wealthy man. Someone who could raise me to such a height that my disloyal relatives would choke on my dust.

Almost all of my money was gone. No time. No options. There was no room for failure.

The fragrance of leather, polished wood, and power hit me as soon as I entered the plane after walking down the jet bridge. It was more than just a seat in first class. It was a proclamation. You had something, which is why you sat here.

I located my seat in the 3B aisle, with a great view of everyone getting on board. As my eyes darted up, I pretended to look through my phone while nestled into the soft leather chair. Then I caught sight of him.

Window in Seat 3A: Perfect. Tall. Broad-shouldered. A black suit with a precise fit. Angular jaw. No grin. No phone. No anxious looks. He acted as though he controlled the airport, the aircraft, and possibly the entire city.

My breath seized in my throat and I froze for a half second. The word wasn't handsome. In the way that storms are, he was... amazing. Lovely. Bad. The type of man you chased or fled from. I decided to pursue it.

I noticed small things as he lowered himself into his seat: his right knuckle had a slight scar. Simple but deadly, the silver watch peeked out from his sleeve. Black gloves were used to conceal something—not for style. I felt a chill run down my back.

Risk. Pure, unadulterated peril. Still, I grinned. Perhaps I was just in need of danger.

The aircraft started to taxi. Overhead, the voice of the captain buzzed. Like clockwork, flight attendants checked belts and secured doors. I bided my time till the seatbelt indicator went out.

Then I let my shoulder touch him as I leaned in a little. He remained still. Didn't recoil. Didn't flinch.

"Long trip?" I asked in a pleasant, well-practiced voice.

No response. He might not have heard.

I leaned forward and laughed softly as if it were all quite informal. "Business or pleasure?"

Nothing. Not even a look.

The flight attendant arrived. In brief, clipped words, he ordered water. As she gave it to him, the girl flushed. I sat there in the meantime, unnoticed like cheap perfume.

My cheeks were burnt by the heat. I looked away, but I couldn't see anything on the screen in front of me. His veins were filled with ice. And I lost all confidence.

The hours passed slowly. I took a sip of my beverage. I scratched at my necklace. I gazed into the darkness outside the window.

I occasionally looked sideways when I forgot who I was. There he sat, motionless. Akin to a monarch on an inaccessible throne. A ruler who was completely unaware of me.

My jewellery eventually stuck on my jacket. I gently pulled at it, irritated. It felt like the chain was slack. I did my old practice of twisting it around my finger—something to calm the roiling panic inside of me.

My grandmother's necklace. The one thing that remained unaffected by betrayal. Malcolm. Isabella. My stepmother. I had a slap-like flashback of their faces.

I tightened my jaw. I'll hold them accountable. Even if it required ascending from hell itself.

The aircraft gave a slight jerk. Landing. People began to stretch and wake up. The aisles were crowded with attendants.

With failure weighing heavily on my heart, I quickly packed my luggage. Not a wealthy man. No rescuer. Just a sobering reminder that things weren't always as they seemed.

I unbuckled and gathered my belongings. The necklace also fell off. Lost.

I quickly reached for my neck. Empty. A wave of panic tore through me. With my heart pounding like a battle drum, I went to my knees and looked beneath the chairs. Nothing.

I got up and looked around the floor. With his suitcase in hand, the 3A man was already making his way down the aisle. I wanted to make a call. I wanted to yell. But I was silently crushed by my pride.

The airport outside was a bustle of activity. I staggered around a corner, grabbed my phone, and jerked the tracking app open. A single tiny blue dot blinked. Not at the airport. Relocating. Quick.

I went cold. He possessed it. My necklace was taken by him. The plane man.

I ran out the door and waved wildly at a cab. Telling the driver to "follow this signal," I thrust my phone into his hands. Despite his bewildered appearance, he pressed the gas.

At night, the streets rushed past neon lights and blaring horns. Faster and sharper, the blue dot advanced farther into the metropolis. Until the taxi finally slowed.

My blood froze as well. There were tall black gates in front of us. Black-suited guards. Gallo Estate in sharp silver letters.

I took a deep breath. There were whispers of rumours concerning this place. King of the Mafia. Absences. No second chances.

I held onto the handle of the door. Now I could go back. Put the necklace away. Forget about retaliation.

However, my hand clenched into a fist. No. Everything else had already been taken from me. I wasn't going to lose this too.

I waited close to a service entrance after sneaking out and pulling my jacket tight about myself. A delivery truck came thundering in. With my heart pounding, I scurried around, hiding behind crates.

It was colder inside the home than it was outside. Marble floors. Halls that go on forever. Guards that don't talk.

The tracker's beep increased. I tied a maid's apron around my waist after grabbing it from a hanger. A quick look via a window showed plain clothes with unkempt hair pulled up.

Mix in. Go quickly. I moved like a ghost along the corridors.

As I ascended a great staircase past enormous pictures of gloomy-looking individuals, the warning beeped louder. Another hall to the left and right. The room at last.

Moonlight poured through a door on the balcony. My jewellery glinted in the light on a little table. With my heart thumping with relief, I hurried forward.

Nearing—

"A thief has no right to walk freely in my house."

Through the darkness, the voice cut. My heart slammed against my ribs as I spun. One of the shadows pulled away from the wall. And moved into the illumination.

He. The plane man. However, he appeared much more menacing here in the chilly moonlight.

He felt completely at home in his suit. Sharp steel eyes. His black-gloved hands. His expression was emotionless as he gazed at me.

As I raised my hands, I exclaimed, "I… no, this necklace is mine. I lost it on the plane—"

With a gentle yet lethal tone, he interrupted, "Who gave you permission to speak?"

He approached me slowly and deliberately. His footsteps made the floor tremble. Light captured a smirk, a warning, or the corner of his mouth. He took a step toward me.

I was having trouble breathing. Unable to move. The tension between us increased.

Now his face was in full view. I let out a gasp.

"You!" I gestured. "You stole my necklace!"

He paused, looking intently. A glimmer of recognition crossed his face. Unexpected. Laughter. Perhaps something more sinister.

He stepped forward, close enough for me to smell the gloves' cool leather.

"Who are you?" he said in a low, menacing voice.

Despite my knees' desire to give out, I raised my chin.

"Who am I? For stealing something that isn't yours, who are you?"

Then he grinned. Sharp and slow. Like a lion observing a mouse that had the audacity to bite.

Softly, "You are very brave," he remarked. "Or very foolish."

The door banged behind me as he extended his hand. I leapt. There were footsteps. Men. Protectors. I was confined. The king was approaching, engulfing the light with his shadow.