Mafia Obsession

Title: Her Mobster Boss

Ellie

Desperation is a weakness. I should know, since I’m on the cusp of doing the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, all because I’m desperate.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” the guy behind the bar asks, letting his eyes fall to my exposed cleavage. He has to be old enough to be my father.

I bat my eyelashes at him, keeping in character, although I want to punch this chauvinistic pig in the face. “I’ll have a Pina colada, please.” I twirl a strand of my hair around my finger. I always seem to attract the attention of assholes, and I’m fed up with it.

It plays to my strengths, though-seduction and deception-two things I’ve always excelled at. Even if I often seduce the wrong fucking men.

The bartender smirks, giving my cleavage another long stare. Before finally walking off to make up my drink. My heart is pounding in my ears, drowning out the God-awful music thumping away in the background, as I scan the club. There’s a lot of security, particularly leading into the back rooms where I need to go. It will be a miracle if I can pull this off. I have to pull it off though-my life depends on it.

“Here you go, darling.” The bartender sets my Pina colada on the bar. “That’s five bucks.”

I nod, digging into my purse to pull out my second to last five-dollar bill. Not that it will hurt, considering I intend to leave this place with thousands more than I came in with.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

The only way to get in the back is to create a diversion, but it would have to be something loud and distracting enough to force the security guys to leave their posts.

I scan the club, searching for something. My attention lands on a drunk man, swaying on a stool a few feet away from me. I swallow hard, before stepping toward his stool and pushing it out from underneath him. I feel bad for the guy, but this is life or death.

By the time he falls to the floor, screeching and thrashing, I’m heading toward the back wall. I smile to myself as the two security guards move toward the commotion, leaving their stations. When I walked in here tonight, I didn’t expect things to go so smoothly. After checking no one is watching, I grab the door and slip inside, walking along the corridor.

It’s almost too quiet as I step into the main office, shutting the door behind me. My heart is beating at one hundred miles an hour, as my eyes clock onto the ridiculous amount of cash. Why the fuck did they leave all of this here unguarded?

Maybe the Romano family are getting too cocky for their own good. The cash is in bags, but it’s not like I can waltz out of here carrying one. My eyes scan the room, searching for CCTV or any other form of security. I see no signs of it, which makes this even more ludicrous.

The Romano Mafia can’t believe their name is enough to dissuade people from stealing from them. My handbag is empty and ready to stuff as much cash in as possible. I need at least eighty thousand dollars to get myself out of the shit I’m in.

I work quickly, grabbing stack after stack of ten thousand dollar wedges. I fit sixteen of them inside my handbag, but it’s all I can fit. Then, I work on putting some under my clothes, placing two inside the pouch of my cash stashing thong and one nestled in each bra cup. It may be uncomfortable, but it will be worth it.

Two hundred grand is more than I intended to steal when I first walked in here, but what the heck? I need as much as possible to ensure I get away from Bruce without a hitch. The last thing I want is to go back to that life. All I needed was eighty thousand, but this will set me up elsewhere and give me the fresh start I need.

I sling my handbag over my shoulder and walk toward the office door. There’s no sound outside in the corridor, but the last thing I want right now is to get caught red-handed. With a long, deep breath, I open the door and peer out into the corridor. It’s empty.

The question is, how am I going to get back passed the guards if they are at their stations again? I shake my head, hoping they are still trying to deal with the drunk guy. My flat shoes squeak against the tiled floor as I walk along the desolate corridor back toward the club. The music is pumping on the other side of the door, as I perk my ear to listen for the guards.

I can’t hear anything, so I take the plunge, pushing it open. My shoulders sag in relief that they’re still not at their posts. With quick, agile steps, I head away from the door without drawing attention to myself. It’s been a few months since I’ve been in the game, but I haven’t lost it.

I scan the club, trying to work out what the best action is. The path to the exit is clear, or I can have another drink and try to blend in, remain inconspicuous. In a moment of haste, I head for the exit. The thought of sitting at the bar with all this cash makes me sick to the stomach.

I head across the dance floor, hoping to high-hell I’ve pulled this off. I’m so close to fixing all the problems in my life and starting somewhere else with a fresh slate. I squeal as two hands snake onto my waist, pulling me to a stop.

“What the fuck?” I say, spinning around to see a young guy smiling down at me.

“Come on, honey, let’s dance,” he says, breath stinking of alcohol. I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m on my way out.”

His grip slips to my hips, and he holds onto me hard, digging his nails in. “I said have a dance with me. It was a demand.”

I writhe against him, but he’s strong. Out of sheer panic, I bring my shoe up to his crotch, kicking him where it hurts. I’m no stranger to dealing with men who can’t take no for an answer, unfortunately. He yelps, falling to the floor and holding his crotch. Everyone around us stops dancing, staring over at us.

Great.

This isn’t what I need right now. The plan was to get out of this place without drawing attention to myself. Instead, this jerk has drawn everyone’s attention to me.

“Are you okay?” a man asks.

I spin around, and the blood drains from my face. It’s one of the security guards. I give him a nod. “Yeah, he tried to force me to dance,” I say, nodding my head toward him.

My heart is in my mouth right now as the security guy eyes me. “I’m afraid we have a no violence policy, so I will have to escort you out.”

Holy shit.

Is this guy going to escort me out of this place with two-hundred thousand dollars of their cash? I give him a nod. “Of course, I’m so sorry.”

He takes hold of my wrist gently and tugs me toward the exit. My heart is thumping harder and faster than the pulsing beat of music filling the club. This is crazy and if I pull it off, I’ll go down in freaking history.

A muffled plea comes through his radio and my heart stops beating. “Don’t let her leave.” I make that much out.

Please tell me he’s not talking about me. The guy lets go of my hand to grab his radio. “Sorry, what was that?”

I make a dash for the exit, knowing this is my last chance to get out of here.

“Fuck,” the security guy shouts, rushing after me.

I dodge a couple of club-goers, sprinting as fast as I can. I’d always been a quick runner at high-school. It has helped me out in a few binds during my thieving career-if you can call it a career. My heart races hard as I step through the exit, setting my foot on the pavement outside.

I’m out.

I keep on moving fast until a set of heavy hands land on my shoulders. Whoever has got hold of me, hoists me backward and shoves me up against the wall of the club. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, and I gaze up at six foot-eight of pure muscle with a shaved head glaring down me.

A guy you definitely don’t want to fuck with. The bouncer of the club, and he has caught me. I know from one look at him there’s no way I’m getting out of his grip.

The security guard, who had let go of me inside, rushes toward us and grabs my arm. “Thanks Enzo, I’ve got her from here.”

The giant nods his head and moves back into his position by the side of the entrance.

“Where do you think you are going?” he asks, eyes narrowed. “No one steals from the Romano Mafia and gets away with it.”

I swallow thickly, as he hoists me back inside the club. There’s no use fighting. I’ve been caught red-handed, and there’s no going back once you fuck with the mob. They’ll kill you before you can so much as blink.

At twenty-three years old, I never believed my life would end this early.

Desperation can force you to do crazy things.