บททั้งหมดของ The Mafia Love Code: บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 90

“Good morning, Toni.” Nat greets. We decided to only use our nicknames when we are playing. Except for Max and I because we are married and clearly in a romantic relationship. “Morning, Nat.” I reply, flipping the french toast. “Is that French Toast?” Nat questions with a smile as she walks over to where I’m cooking on my built in skillet that is next to the stove. “It is. You earned it.” I wink at her. I told her last night that her reward for pleasing us like a good girl that I’d make her favorite breakfast. She earned it all right. “Good because I was really hoping I’d wake up to it.” She says as she moves over to make herself a cup of coffee. I giggle at her as Max walks freshly showered from his work out. He strides over to me and kisses me on the lips. “Morning, Princess.” He says breaking our kiss. He glances over at Nat. “Morning, Nat.” “Morning, Czar,” I reply, flipping a couple of pieces that need it. “Morning, Max. So, is today the day you think?” She questions as sh

It’s been about six months since we officially took Chatworth down. The media ate up his suicide. It was a satisfying victory and with our revenge satiated Toni and I focused on starting our family. We had a good surprise about four months ago. Toni got pregnant with what felt like so easy, considering we were expecting a battle to even get pregnant. Turns out that getting pregnant wasn’t the issue Toni was going to face, but her challenge comes with keeping the pregnancy. In the wake of her miscarriage, I felt fairly helpless to help her, which is why I was thankful for Nat living with us because she help me care for Toni after her procedure. Toni was only nine weeks old, but she needed a procedure to clear out the failed pregnancy. Violetta, Lucy, and Roxy have been helpful with Toni’s recovery. With testing they were able to figure out that Toni needs progesterone supplements during her first trimester minimum possibly the whole pregnancy. At least we have an answer, but even then

There’s the hunter and the prey. I’m the prey that became the hunter. I started off as the prey to my stepfather. I was ten when he started sexually molesting me.There is something unique in losing your childhood innocence too early. It creates this unhinged need to protect your soul. Forget your heart because the trauma inflicted on you destroyed it along with your brain, whose chemistry will be forever changed from the horror you were forced to endure. I was thirteen when I was finally able to escape the perfect cage that was created to keep me nothing more than helpless prey. I was liberated by a neighbor named Dale who took my tales of what my stepfather was doing to me seriously. Unfortunately for me, I was a troublemaker as a kid. My father got locked up in prison when I was three for a cyber crime and by the time I was six, my mom had married my step dad who worked at one of the local factories making good money. My mom was never focused on me. She cared more about her career

The rain patters against the diner windows, drowning out the mundane sounds of the dinner. I grab my coffee and rather large chocolate chip cookie and head over to one of the vacant booths. The dinner isn’t far off the highway so we get a lot of truckers and travelers besides our regular locals. There was a good dinner rush, but around eight things died as the impending storm is to come that is proving to be a nasty one with wicked winds and bucket loads of rain. The spring storms don’t play games in the south and while there is currently no threat of a tornado, it still doesn’t ease my troubled anxiety. There are times that I envy Dorthy getting taken by a damn tornado to another land. At least then she didn’t have to figure out what hell to do with her life, but I guess she did face some challenges in Oz. Still, it seems better than the life I feel trapped in. I pop in my earbuds and find one of my true crime podcasts to listen to before I break a piece of my cookie off. I ate din

I slowly open my eyes as my stiff body refuses to move. I’m freezing cold in this dark cage I’m locked in. I’m in some cream colored tank dress. I have no clue what happened to the clothes I was wearing. There are other girls in the room I’m being kept in. They are also in cages and dressed like me. What the hell true crime, horror movie have I found myself in?The men that guard us are wearing masks. One is a devil, one is a ghost like face, and various other things and animals. I’ve lost track of the various masks I’ve seen coming and going from the room we are being held in. From what I gathered from the other girls being held captive is that we are supposed to take part of some hunt, but no one knows what type of hunt. I’ve read, listened, and watched enough fucking true crime to know that this so called hunt isn’t going to end well for us girls being held captive. No doubt we don’t make it out of this alive. I lean against the cold bars of the cage. How the fuck did this happen?