BENEATH THE MAFIA'S BULLET

Mirabelle's POVThe wine glass slipped off my fingers before I could even scream. It shattered against the tiled floor of the terrace, but I barely heard it over the sharp sound of a gunshot that echoed from the balcony.I gasped, eyes wide and my heart pounding. The balcony was dimly lit, but I saw a man flat on his face.And standing over him in a perfectly tailored black suit, cool as midnight sin, was a man, tall, well built and handsome.He tilted his head slightly. He'd heard the glass break, but he didn't see me.I pressed my trembling hand on my mouth, as I hid behind a vast flower, my black dress blending with the darkness."Oh my God. I'm a witness to murder,” I whispered, as a chill ran down my spine.It's been a week, and I've almost convinced myself it was a dream.The steam from the espresso machine hissed, as the bell on the door of the coffee shop jingled constantly. My hands were constantly moving, wiping the counter, taking orders. But I held my breath anytime a ma

Mirabelle's POVI poured the coffee, my hand steady, my mind a riot. “Your family dies in front of you,” I remember his exact words, as the black liquid swirled, dark as the suit he’d worn. “Or you be my girlfriend for a year.”I placed the cup down with a click that felt too loud. Two days! For two days, his words had played on a loop, and my stubbornness had become my only armor. I was not going to let him win.” His green eyes held no joke, and his fingers on my jaw felt like a promise…a terrible promise.The men in suits drove me home, without saying anything, as they watched me walk into my apartment building. I did not tell my mother, instead I told her I had a headache from work. For two days, I worked, I smiled at customers, I wiped tables. But my stubbornness won't make me accept his deal.I could not be his thing for a year…what did that even mean? Ohh yeah, I knew what it meant. It meant I would belong to him. My stubbornness rebelled. It was my flaw. It made me fight wh

Mirabelle's POV The three plane tickets were a physical weight in my pocket. I decided to get the tickets this evening instead of tomorrow morning.I walked back to my apartment building, the evening air cool, as my mind was a list of tasks; pack light, call Aunt Elise again, wake up early, get to the airport.I turned onto the corner of my street, my lips in a warm smile, but my feet stopped moving the moment my gaze landed on my house.Two sleek black cars were parked in front of my building.“Oh! No….no,no!” my eyes went wide, as a chill ran down my spine.My feet pounded the pavement, as I took the stairs two at a time. I took a deep breath, my hands shaking as I pushed the door open.“What!” My eyes went wide, my gaze fixed on the scene in front of me. It was a painting of a happy family, but the colors were all off.My mother was on the sofa, smiling; a real, warm smile. She held a cup of tea, Nathaniel sat in the armchair, leaning forward, his eyes wide.Theo sat on the other

Mirabelle’s POV “Oh my God! I forgot my night wears,” the thought hit me as I stood dripping on the marble bathroom floor. A towel was wrapped around me, my skin warm from the shower. I had ignored the dinner Celeste brought until I freshen up. Now I needed clothes.I walked into the bedroom, my small bag sat on a chair as I opened it. I pulled out the few things I packed; jeans, a t-shirt, a sweater, an underwear. But there was no nightdress, no soft pants, no comfortable shirt. My gaze drifted to the closet as I remembered what Celeste said. I quickly stood up, my lips in a deep frown. The closet was large, it held dresses, silk blouses, tailored trousers. Everything was expensive, everything was for show. There was nothing soft, nothing for sleeping.“Gosh!! What should I do. Why now! Why me!,” I said, as I sat on the bed, massaging my forehead softly.But a small smile spread on my lips as I remembered Celeste’s words, “If you you need anything, press the button by the bed.”

Mirabelle's POV It has been three days since I last saw that monster. He just abandoned me here, but it is not as if I even want to see him.The thought repeated in my head as I polished the same silver candlestick for the fifth time. The grand dining table was long, and it needed to be perfect. He said I would be a maid, and he meant it. For three days, my life was dusting, polishing, and silence. He gave an order and vanished. Celeste moved around the room, as she checked my work. She did not speak much, but she was kind, like a mother bird watching a strange chick in her nest, and I had started to see her as a friend, the only person in this cold house who did not look at me with threat or pity.I finished the last candlestick, we I placed it exactly in the center of the table. “It looks good,” Celeste said, her voice soft.“Thank you,” my voice was low but steady, as a small smile played on my lips.“The sitting room needs vacuuming..”I nodded, as I picked up the cleaning too