Her Mafia Obsession

Mia Caruso sat at her desk, with the low roar of the office overhead lamps— the only noise filling the silent room. The metropolis was alive outside but inside her little world, her corner, Mia was alone, as she preferred to be. Her fingers danced over a pile of case files; the heft of each one was a reminder of the perilous world she maneuvered through daily. As a criminal defense attorney, she had learned to keep her emotions separate from her work — no matter how heinous the crime, no matter how loathsome the client, she upheld the law. A text flashed across the screen from her assistant, Amy: "New case file just came in. It’s... big." Mia frowned and sighed. She had worked hundreds of cases, but the tension in Amy’s message felt different. Opening the attachment, she shivered when she saw the name that scrolled across the top of the screen: Salvatore Ricci, The Beast, the notorious mafia boss. Her heart skipped a beat. The man had been a legendary figure—not simply for his contempt for others but for his iron grip on New York City’s underworld. One said that when Salvatore walked into a place, the bravest of men held their breath. He’s managed to piss off almost everyone, but somehow, he’s still on top. Mia swallowed and looked at the clock. She was meeting her newest client in an hour. She had to take the case—no lawyer worth their salt would refuse to represent someone like Ricci, no matter how dangerous. The challenge, and the spotlight of it all, was too good to turn down. But Mia knew in her heart that this case would challenge her like no other. *** The prison walls were cold and grey, opposite to the shimmer that appeared to be coming from the man sitting in front of Mia. She entered the sterile room, aware she was under the watchful eyes of the guards. At the opposite end of the table was Salvatore Ricci, with his hands folded neatly on the table in front of him, his black suit crisply clean and perfect on his wide shoulders. His black eyes met hers as she stepped inside and for an instant, it was as if there were something dense and in the air between them. “Ms. Caruso,” he said, his voice velvety, smooth, and sharp with something far more dangerous. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mia did not stiffen as she had to resist the temptation to do so. It was overpowering, even in a sterile room like this. She reached over with a professional grin. “Mr. Ricci,” she said, her voice steady, revealing none of the nerves boiling beneath the surface. He grabbed her hand just firm enough to be not too forceful— not too loose, the perfect amount of dominance. The minute their fingers brushed, something changed in the atmosphere, an almost wire of tension that caused Mia’s pulse to quicken. She quickly withdrew her hand as if burned, cursing herself for being so conscious of him. This was business. Nothing more. "You're known for defending the guilty," Salvatore added, never looking away from her. “Do you believe I am guilty, Ms. Caruso?” Mia caught his eyes, refusing to look away. “I counsel my clients to the best of my ability,” she said cautiously. “Guilty or not is a matter for the court. It is my duty they have a good possible defense.” Salvatore’s mouth twitched into a little, barely noticeable smile. "Good answer." He reclined in his chair, looking her in the face as if he would read the thoughts of her heart. “But I wonder, do you always separate your feelings from your work like this, or is there a line you wouldn't cross?” Mia felt her heart rate leap a beat, but she maintained a neutral expression. "I do my job. That’s all." There was a moment of silence, the kind that was filled with tension. Salvatore’s eyes softened a little, but they lost none of their intensity. “I like that,” he whispered, his voice deep and soft. "You’re not afraid of me. Most people are." Mia swayed her head, refusing to be intimidated. “I’m not afraid of anyone, Mr. Ricci.” He smiled, a slight widening of his lips, and for a moment Mia thought she saw a glint of respect in his eyes. But it was gone, replaced by something darker… an unreadable intensity that made her stomach flutter uncomfortably. “You’re going to learn, Ms. Caruso, that the world I live in is not so black and white,” Salvatore said, leaning forward in his seat. “And you’ll see, as well, that my world lures people in, whether they want it to or not.” Mia tightened her jaw and refused to let him get to her. “I will do my job,” she said, firm, determined. "Nothing more, nothing less." He looked her over for some moment before nodding as if he'd come to a decision. "We’ll see," he said softly. "We’ll see." The room had grown colder as she rose to her feet, to gather the case files and already starting to make her way out. His oppressive presence as suffocating as the walls around him. Mia got to the doorways and turned to him, she could feel his eyes still on her, even as she crossed to the doorways. “Until we meet again, Ms. Caruso,” he said, in a voice like a whisper, with a hint of a promise in the words. Mia left the room, the echoing of the heavily creaking door fading away into quietness. Her mind flitted through questions faster than she could think them, and though she tried to resist the anxiety that had buried itself into her chest, there was one thing she knew for certain: This case was unlike anything she had ever confronted. And Salvatore Ricci? He was someone she would always remember. *** Mia walked out onto the busy streets of New York City, the noise of passing traffic and the high voices of people in the street an addition to the tension she’d experienced inside the prison’s neutral surroundings. Her head was still spinning from the encounter with Salvatore Ricci. His words and his looks appeared to increase in weight with every step she made. She hesitated, not yet knowing whether to call Amy or wait until morning. The whole evening seemed to be a wash of questions without answer. Walking toward her office building, she looked up at the structure, its glass reflecting the setting sun. She was tired, yet she knew something big was coming her way—and soon. The journey in the elevator went rapidly and nothing happened, the well-known ding of the bell announced her arrival at the top storey. Mia’s assistant Amy, as usual, was sitting at her desk, typing feverishly on her computer. Amy looked up as Mia entered. “How was he?” Amy said with a twinkle in her eye. Mia didn’t answer right away. She thumped her caseload onto the desk. "He's... just what they say he is." Amy raised an eyebrow, but she let it go. There was something unsaid behind Mia's expression, but there were times to pry and moments to permit the truth to reveal itself. "Want me to get you anything? Coffee? A drink?" Mia shook her head, still to agitated to calm down. "Just... stay on top of things. Somehow, I have the impression that it is going to be a bigger one than I thought." As she sat down, the memory of Ricci’s dark eyes haunted her. He was playing, and somehow she was already part of the game. His power, his domination… it was like nothing she had ever experienced with any guy. Still, there was something about him that made her repulsed and… fascinated. She turned her attention to the pile of other files on her desk, wishing she could drive the disturbing thoughts from her mind. Yet her thoughts continued to run wild with him. How had someone like Salvatore Ricci risen to become the supreme leader of the Mafia in New York? What did he want from her? And, worst of all, why did she feel so damn driven to discover the truth? Her office phone was ringing, disturbing her thoughts. “Mia Caruso,” she replied, trying to sound calm and collected. “Ms. Caruso, this is Anthony from the D.A.’s office,” came the voice on the other end of the line. “We do have a break in Ricci’s case. It’s... urgent.” Mia’s stomach tightened. "I’m listening." "Find us at the old warehouse on 8th. Bring your file. There’s something you must see.” Anthony hung up without waiting for an answer. Mia looked over at Amy, now beside her desk, curiosity etched in her face. "I’ll be back in a bit. Keep the office running while I’m away,” Mia said briskly, reaching for her coat and the case file. Her heart was hammering as she stepped back into the elevator. What had Anthony meant? A new lead? Or was this just another means for Ricci to challenge her? Either way, Mia realized one thing: She was already in too deep, and there was no going back. *** The streets of New York were dimmer now, the city lights throwing long shadows on the pavement. The old warehouse on 8th Street was a gray tombstone in the middle of the buildings now built up around it. Mia’s car was the only one there as she pulled up, shining her headlights for a moment on the graffiti-covered exterior. She felt the cool, frosty air nipping at her skin when she got out of the car. As she walked toward the entrance she felt the thickness of the night encroaching on her, the click of her heels resonating on the silent, deserted street. Anthony was standing by the door, his face grim. “You’re late,” he told her, nodding quickly before bringing her in. The warehouse was dark, smelling of old wood and metal. Mia followed Anthony through the maze of barren crates and corroded machinery, her nerves on high alert. She kept feeling that something was off. "Where’s the lead?" she asked, her voice low. “Right here,” Anthony said, coming to a halt before a steel door at the rear end of the warehouse. He put a code in the door, which squeaked open to reveal a small, sterile room with a single table in the middle. On the table was a photo. Mia’s breath hitched in her throat as she got closer. It was a photograph of Salvatore Ricci… but it wasn’t any old photograph. There was a picture of Ricci … with someone who she didn't recognize. “This is from a deep background source,” Anthony’s voice barely audible. “We believe Ricci has a mole inside his own group. A powerful one. And this photo proves it.” Mia gazed at the photo and a twisting sensation formed in her gut. Whoever they might be, they were about to make this matter even more complex — and more dangerous. She didn’t know it yet, but this was the first piece of a much larger puzzle. And behind the scenes, in the shadows, was Ricci watching. The game had just begun