The Mafia Kings Contract

The hotel was in total chaos.

Flames tore through the curtains and rolled across the ceiling, filling the room with smoke, heat, and deafening alarms.

Leila stood frozen beside the bed, one hand clutching the blue towel to her chest, the other covering her mouth as she stared at Sir Leonardo sprawled across the sheets.

“Leonardo?” Her voice cracked. “Leonardo, wake up!”

He didn't move.

A curtain collapsed in a shower of sparks.

Leila flinched and finally moved. She snatched the cash from the table, shoved it into her purse with her phone and earpiece, tightened the towel around herself, and ran for the door.

The hallway was already filling with smoke.

She covered her nose and hurried toward the emergency exit, her bare feet slapping against the carpet. Her lungs burned, but she didn't stop.

She burst through the emergency door and stumbled into the cold night air.

For a moment, she simply stood there, gasping.

Then she ran.

She didn't stop until she reached the corner of a neighboring building. She pressed her back against the brick wall, clutching her purse and trying to steady her breathing.

A burning hotel.

A dead man.

And she was standing outside wearing nothing but a towel.

She had no idea a black SUV had already found her.

Footsteps sounded nearby.

Leila froze.

Two men in dark suits rounded the corner.

One of them stopped.

“Wait.”

The other looked at him. “What?”

“Isn't that her?”

“Who?”

“Leila Johnson.”

Her blood ran cold.

They knew her name.

She ran.

“Hey!”

The men chased after her.

Leila turned the corner, gripping her towel with one hand, but she barely made it another few steps before a hand clamped around her arm.

“Let me go!”

She fought wildly, twisting and kicking as another man grabbed her from behind.

“Get her into the car. Now.”

“No! Let go of me!”

Something dark was pulled over her face.

A sharp, chemical smell filled her nose.

Leila held her breath, fighting against the arms restraining her.

But she couldn't hold it forever.

The moment she gasped, the world tilted.

“Move.”

“Vehicle's ready.”

Her legs weakened.

The men carried her to the waiting SUV and shoved her inside.

The door slammed shut.

The last thing Leila saw was the burning hotel disappearing behind the dark window.

Then everything went black.

—

A dim light came first.

Then the ceiling.

Leila's eyes opened slowly.

For a few seconds, she couldn't remember where she was.

Then everything returned at once.

The fire.

The men.

Her name.

The car.

She shot upright.

The room was enormous, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Chicago glittered far below.

Her blue towel was barely wrapped around her.

Leila stared at it.

They hadn't touched her.

That should have comforted her.

It didn't.

She jumped out of the super large sofa and rushed to the door.

Locked.

She pulled the handle again.

Nothing.

“Help!”

And only silence answered back.

Then—

Click.

Leila slowly turned.

She hadn't noticed the extreme of the room had dimly lit light too

Boom!

A gunshot exploded through the room.

“Ah!”

She screamed and dropped to the floor, covering her ears.

Another shot rang out.

Then another.

A man collapsed several feet away.

Leila stared at him, horrified.

He didn't move.

Her breathing became shallow.

The man holding the gun lowered it calmly.

Two men in black suits stepped forward, lifted the body, and carried it away without a word.

Leila remained frozen on the floor.

Nobody had reacted.

Nobody had screamed.

Nobody seemed surprised.

Slowly, she looked at the man with the gun.

He wore a dark suit. His expression was completely controlled.

As though shooting someone in front of her was nothing.

Leila scrambled backward until her back hit the door.

“Who are you?”

He didn't answer.

His eyes remained fixed on hers.

“Where am I?”

He took one slow step toward her.

Leila's hand flew to the knot of her towel.

“Stay away from me.”

He stopped.

Silence filled the room.

Leila glanced toward the windows.

There was nowhere to run.

Her eyes returned to him.

How did he know her?

Why had those men known her name?

And why had she been brought here?

She opened her mouth to demand an answer.

The stranger finally spoke.

“Welcome, Miss Leila.”