Betrayed And Sold To The Mafia King
“Please, can I borrow your phone? It’s urgent.”
He hesitated at first, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. I knew I must have looked desperate, all pale, sweaty, and shaking. After a moment, he sighed and handed me his phone. “Make it quick,” he said.
My fingers shook so badly that I almost dropped the phone. I unfolded the paper and dialed the number carefully, checking each digit twice. The phone rang once, then twice as my heart pounded harder with each ring. Then it stopped. No one answered. All I got was silence. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, and tried again. This time, the line didn’t even connect. It went straight to a dead signal.
Bab Populer