Mafia's Innocent Witness

A/N: There's a few bad reviews, I saw and I just want to say to those who actually gave my book a chance, thank you so so much. I appreciate you, construction criticisms are welcomed. You have no idea how much I benefit from your support and I'm grateful for you all❤️ To those who have bad to say, have you ever written a book before? Do you know how hard it is to write a book containing 100 plus chapters, when life is kicking your ass? Nope, then please keep your negative thoughts to yourselves. Also this is the first book I have ever written and I made good improvements since then. See my other work. **** Prologue Joeniya Allison An eerie silence enveloped the neighborhood of Granville, a stark contrast to its usual lively atmosphere. Known for its vibrant nightlife, Granville was anything but the finest or safest place to live; in fact, it boasted the highest crime rate in all of Bridgeport. Normally, upon arriving at the bus stop, there would be other destitute i

Chapter 2 I jolted awake, gasping for air, my body slick with sweat, heart racing from a dream that had begun as a delightful fantasy of a handsome stranger swooping in to steal my heart, only to be shattered when Ace appeared and shot him in the head, turning my moment of bliss into a chilling nightmare. Curled up on the cold floor of a public restroom, I felt completely trapped, with nowhere else to turn. The shelter just a few blocks away was full, and even if it opened its doors, the thought of staying there filled me with dread, knowing a dangerous man was likely out there searching for me. I glanced at my watch and saw it was two minutes to four-definitely time to wake up. Each morning, except on Saturdays and Sundays, I needed to rise early to catch the bus and make it to the diner for my 6 a.m. shift, which ended at 3 p.m. After that, I had to walk ten minutes to reach the community college in time for class. As a child, I often told my papa how eagerly I anticipated growi

Chapter 4 It has been two weeks since my last encounter with Ace, and I still don't understand what the deal is with him. People seem to fear him; he certainly looks like a bad guy. However, I'm the only one who witnessed him put a bullet through a man's head—a man who turned out to be the leader of a mafia. I anticipated chaos in the city following his death, believing his men would be seeking revenge for their leader's murder. Surprisingly, Granville, in particular, was quieter than it had been in years; the calmness was almost unsettling. I strolled through the streets as if I weren’t a walking target. With Saturday here, I had no classes or shifts at the diner, so I decided to look for another job. I wanted to save more money to continue my education and afford a cheap apartment, or at least a motel for a couple of nights. Sleeping on a bed was far preferable to spending nights on roadsides, park benches, or in random public restrooms. After what I witnessed, I made sur

Chapter 6 "The man was my father," Ace's words echoed in my mind. Was I hearing correctly? The leader of the Mafia, the man Ace had killed—was he really his father? A flood of questions overwhelmed me. Why would he kill his own father? Was he truly as ruthless as that suggests, killing a man responsible for the deaths of thousands? Did this mean he was now the head of the Mafia? Did the Captain know about this connection? Is that why everyone seemed to fear him, or did they merely see him as a troublemaker, like Dorine had said? It made sense now why he surrounded himself with so many bodyguards. "Joeniya, breathe properly," I heard him say on the other line. It was only then that I realized I was inhaling sharply, on the verge of a panic attack. "The man deserved it, okay?" Ace said, nonchalantly, as if the weight of his actions had no impact. "Deserved it! He was your father, how could you kill him?" I retorted, my anger boiling within me. Despite being a terrible

Chapter 8 I didn't like the idea of Ace knowing so much about me; it terrified me to think about how much he actually did know. Only God knows the extent of his knowledge. Did he know everything that had happened in my past? It felt as though he had a book filled with information about me—my fingerprints, my birthday, my favorite things. He probably even knew how to find the woman who gave birth to me. Ace and I stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He was likely waiting for me to continue the conversation, but I was eager to scold him; he couldn’t just waltz into my life and dictate my actions like that. It wasn’t something I was accustomed to; ever since Dad died, I had always handled things on my own. "You shouldn’t have done that because I don’t want it. I’ve already accepted living with you, but I cannot accept your offer to buy me new things," I said, my voice firm. "Do you know why? It’s because I don’t want your corrupt money associated wit