Trapped in a mafia’s obsession

Rafael Mercer’s hands were slick with blood, his or theirs, he couldn’t tell. The bullet holes in his car told a story of their own, a reminder that he had barely made it out alive.

What was supposed to be a private meeting had turned into a bloodbath. A setup. His allies were scattered, trapped in their own hells, and he was tearing through the streets at full throttle, heart pounding like a war drum.

His car roared down the asphalt, tires screeching as he pushed past dangerous speeds. He had escaped, for that moment.

A sudden beep on his dashboard.

Fuel low.

"Fuck! Not now," Rafael hissed under his breath. He knew he was being followed, but he couldn’t risk breaking down in the open. He needed gas.

His sharp eyes scanned the road. Then he saw it.

An old, lonely gas station, flickering lights barely illuminating the night. A girl stood behind the counter, her figure outlined by the dim glow.

Celia Romano leaned against the counter, tapping her nails against the surface. It had been a boring shift, until then.

A tall, dangerously attractive man stepped out of his car. Blood ran down his temple, yet his presence was calm, composed and deadly.

He walked up, barely sparing her a glance, and tossed his card onto the counter.

"Fill it up."

Celia rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "We only accept cash here."

His cold, bloodied gaze flickered to hers. A man like him wasn’t used to being told no or disagreed with.

"What kind of outdated gas station is this?" he muttered, his voice edged with irritation.

"It’s outdated, but it’s also clearly written on the sign outside," she shot back, unfazed.

Rafael exhaled sharply, shoving a hand into his leather jacket. He pulled out a bill, threw it onto the counter, along with something else. A single black glove.

Celia barely noticed, but Rafael did. Just as he reached to grab it, his phone buzzed.

Mason Dominic.

His second-in-command.

Rafael answered. "Talk."

"Boss, I think you’re being followed," Mason’s voice came through, tense.

"I figured," Rafael muttered, wiping the blood from his temple.

"When you start driving, they will lose your trail eventually, your speed is untouchable."

Rafael smirked at Mason’s confidence.

"We will be waiting for you at the underground," Mason added before hanging up.

Rafael grabbed the cash, shoved it into his pocket, and walked back to his car, forgetting the glove he had left behind.

Forty minutes later, the black SUV tailing Rafael pulled over on the side of the road.

"You didn’t drive fast enough!" the gang leader barked, slamming his fist onto the dashboard.

"We lost him," the driver admitted through clenched teeth.

"But…" one of the men spoke up. "He stopped at a gas station. The girl there must know something about him."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"He dropped a something, I think a glove or handkerchief With her."

Their leader smirked. "That’s evidence. And a reason to pay her a visit."

———————-

Celia’s Phone buzzed. A message from Nico flashed across her screen.

"I’m going to my friend’s place for a gaming night. Love you, sis. Take care."

She smiled, texting back.

"Love you too. Be careful. See you tomorrow."

She adored her younger brother, Nico. No matter how stubborn he was, he was the only family she had left. She would do anything for him.

Celia checked the time. 12:30 AM.

"My shift is almost over," she murmured, grinning excitedly.

The roar of an engine shattered the silence outside the gas station.

It was past midnight. The road was empty, the neon glow of the gas station sign flickering above her. She should have felt safe inside the booth, waiting for her shift to end.

But the moment the black SUV screeched to a stop in front of the pumps, she knew, it wasn’t good.

The doors flung open, and four men stepped out.

They didn’t glance at the gas prices. Didn’t look around for the pumps.

They were there for something. Or someone.

Celia straightened behind the counter, her fingers tightening around the edge.

One of them marched straight toward her.

Her stomach twisted. Not normal.

Before she could take a step back, a rough hand clamped around her wrist.

“Where is he?”

Celia’s breath caught. He?

Her mind raced, who were they talking about?

The man’s fingers dug in tighter, and her skin burned under the force of his grip.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, forcing herself to sound confused, not terrified.

The leader’s dark gaze flicked across her face, studying her, testing her reaction.

“Rafael Mercer,” he said flatly. “He was here.”

Celia’s stomach dropped.

Rafael. The man with the deep voice, the sharp eyes, the fresh wound on his forehead.

The man who had handed her a credit card, The man who left in a hurry.

“I don’t know who that is,” she said.

His grip didn’t loosen.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I swear, I don’t know him! I just work here.”

The gang leader’s jaw twitched. He didn’t believe her.

Celia swallowed hard, keeping her face blank. Staying calm and not showing fear.

Then his eyes shifted to the counter.

The glove, Rafael’s glove. She had not even noticed it was there. A slow smirk curled the man’s lips as he plucked it from the counter, holding it between two fingers.

“Just work here, huh?” he mused.

Celia’s pulse roared in her ears.

“It’s not mine,” she blurted. “He just forgot it and I di…."

The slap came fast.

Her head snapped to the side, pain exploding across her cheek.

Celia gasped, bringing a hand to her face. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“I see,” the leader murmured, voice eerily calm. “You want to play dumb. Let’s see how long you last.”

A thick arm wrapped around her waist.

Celia thrashed, kicking out. “No! Let go of me!”

A cloth covered her mouth.Not enough to knock her out, just enough to shut her up.

They shoved her out the glass doors, the bell jingling like this was just another late-night sale.

Her nails dug into her captor’s arm, but his grip only tightened.

The cold air hit her skin as they dragged her toward the SUV. Her stomach churned with terror. This can’t be happening. They yanked open the car door.

Celia kicked out violently, but one of them grabbed her legs, hauling her inside.

The last thing she saw before the doors slammed shut was the empty gas station,

“Drive,” the gang leader ordered, tossing the glove onto the seat beside him. “Let’s see how ready Rafael Mercer is willing to risk for her life.”

Celia’s heart pounded as the SUV sped into the night. No one knew she was gone and no one was coming to save her. Then the SUV sped into the night, taking her with it.