Chapter 1
Edited.
Chapter 1:
The wind swept across her shoulder, her hair flowing with the breeze. She walked carefully, her head to the ground while she clutched her purse tightly to her side. She hated the early morning walk from the parking lot to work.
The town was quiet, but it made her uneasy. She grew up in the rush and thrill of New York City—the city that never sleeps. She loved the noise, the thrill of it, but this quiet, quaint town was nothing like that.
The silence scared her more than she cared to admit. She didn’t enjoy it, but it was now her only choice. When at home, she used music and reading to drown out the silence, but she knew better than to listen to music while walking in public—that made her too vulnerable, and vulnerability kills.
When she reached the entrance to work, she checked over both her shoulders briefly, ensuring the coast was clear before she stuffed the key in the lock, twisting it and quickly entering the building before closing the door behind her swiftly.
The small diner she worked in had large windows encasing the entire front wall, but it was a thin, narrow building placed at the end of a large strip mall. Those were the only windows, which meant a ton of natural light, but it also scared her, leaving her too vulnerable to attacks.
She placed her purse under the counter, entering the kitchen and smiling softly. “Good morning, Steve.” She smiled. He reciprocated it, a small “morning” coming from him before he turned back to the grill, working on cooking the home fries for today’s service.
She turned to the dining room, instantly turning on the music to fill the silence, then getting to work setting up the dining room.
This was her favourite shift. 5:30 AM was early, but she loved being alone, and this was her only chance at being alone during her shift. She embraced the solitude. Truthfully, as much as she loved serving, she needed to lay low, and this was not the job for that. She had tried other places of employment, but this was a lonely season in her life, and she needed a little human connection, and this was the only way she could find both.
Time passed quickly—placing creamers and milk on the tables, putting out ketchups, making coffee—and before she knew it, it was 6:00 AM, and she rushed to unlock the door cautiously.
Her nerves rose as she watched the window, waiting for the first customers while analyzing her surroundings carefully…. She had to be careful; there was no time to get sloppy… that was how she got caught.
He paced the room angrily, his hand running through his dark locks aggressively while he thought through his next move. Every move was critical—literally life or death—and it was all resting in the palm of his hands.
He tried his best to think, but clouds of doubt were sneaking into his brain. He couldn’t let those settle; he needed to be sure. It was his only choice.
A strong knock pulled him from his thoughts, freezing him in his tracks. They couldn’t see him falter, or they would question his position, and he couldn’t let anyone question his position. He earned it. It was his.
“Boss?” Hecter questioned, and he instantly let out the breath he was holding and nodded.
He strode out of his room confidently, pushing any doubt he had out of his mind as he descended the stairs into his living room. His façade was everything. He needed to be strong.
“Attention, everyone! We will start infiltrating all Russian auction houses immediately. The Russian mafia cannot continue to auction off women and children. It will be dangerous; it will start a war if we get caught, but we need to do everything in our power to help as many people as we can and put an end to the Russian mafia. I will meet with the counselors tomorrow to discuss a plan, along with looking into new investments for our corporation to bring in new income streams to help cover these costs! If anyone has any revenue ideas, please reach out to Hecter or Donatello, and we will start figuring out the corporation details. Am I clear?” Grayson demanded.
The Russian mafia has been stealing children and women for years. They auction them off to rich bastards who abuse them, kill them, or enslave them. The last two years, though, they have been relentless. The mafia boss, Edwin Dorento—the king—has been running this at an extreme rate.
He has been going town to town, stealing thousands of women over the last two years. The rumors are the extreme speed was caused by the disappearance of his own daughter, although no one had ever seen his daughter, so there was no way to confirm or deny it.
The Italian mafia tried their best not to get involved, but the number of foot soldiers over the last few months who have come knocking—getting doctored into the mafia after their sisters, daughters, and mothers were mysteriously taken—has been pulling at him more than he cared to admit.
The truth was, though, even they weren’t worth causing the most dangerous mafia war in decades, but when Donatello, his best friend, lost his daughter last week, the truth was even Grayson couldn’t ignore it. That was his goddaughter, and he would kill every fucking bastard who put their hands on her precious little head.
With those words, all of Grayson’s top men went running to work, getting their individual duties together. They had been waiting for him to let them know if they were going to war, and all needed to get started right away on what needed to be done.
Grayson and Hecter headed to Donatello’s room, knocking on the door before Grayson pushed it open, the light filtering into the dark room slowly.
“Don?” Grayson called out. He scanned the room, spotting Donatello’s tall frame slouched into a chair, his eyes buried into the computer like it was his last slice of oxygen.
“Don,” Grayson demanded more firmly, walking up and placing his hand on Don’s shoulder. His body was rigid as he scrolled mindlessly through the black web.
“Don—”
“There’s an auction tomorrow, in Seattle. It was the only one I could fin—” Grayson cut him off again.
“She isn’t in Seattle. That’s too far away. You need to breathe. Let me do the digging. I swear to you, brother, we will get Amelia back. You have my word.”
Donatello relaxed slightly, turning toward Grayson. His eyes were bloodshot, and it looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept a wink since she went missing.
“How do you know she’s not in Seattle?” he whispered, his head low.
“Well, Don, Edwin took her from our territory, which means he wanted to start a war. He would have her close to his chest. He will use her as a pawn when the time is right, so we need to stay ahead,” Grayson stated. “Now get some sleep. We will find the next auction, and we will infiltrate.”
