Caught in The Mafia’s Web

Chapter Seven

Aurora's POV

I didn’t even flinch as I threw the words at him, my voice filled with all the anger I could muster.

Greg’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he towered over me, his frame all shadow and sharp edges.

He closed the distance between us, his jaw clenched so tight I thought he might snap. "Did you just call me an asshole?" His voice was low, a dangerous growl.

I tilted my chin up, meeting his glare head-on. “Oh, I did. You heard me, you arrogant fool.”

For a second, I thought he might actually explode, right there in front of me.

His jaw twitched, a muscle jumping with the kind of fury I had seen in him in the cell, but this time, I didn’t feel even an ounce of fear.

Honestly, I should have been scared, considering he was Greg, a man with more power than anyone should have, and a temper to match. But something changed in me—I wasn’t scared. In fact, the fury and rage in his eyes made me stand taller.

Maybe it was because I had seen that flash of vulnerability in him just moments earlier. The look on his face as he had talked about Selene, his voice breaking as he recounted her death. It softened something in me, even if he was doing everything he could to destroy that feeling now.

“Are you really going to keep calling me names?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Absolutely, because you, Greg, need to apologize,” I shot back, my voice rising. “You dragged me to this… this hell, you kidnapped me, and now you’re trying to throw me out like I’m nothing? You owe me a goddamn apology!”

He stared at me, stunned, like no one had ever dared to talk to him this way before. “You’ve got a mouth on you, I’ll give you that.”

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze without blinking. “And you’ve got an ego the size of a skyscraper. You think you can just throw me around and I’m supposed to take it? I was actually feeling sorry for you, Greg, if you can believe that. And then you go and pull me out of here like I’m… like I’m some kind of nuisance?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking at me like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream or laugh. “You’re something else, you know that? I swear, I don't even know what to do with you.”

I felt a thrill of satisfaction at his frustration, but I wasn’t done. “You know what your problem is, Greg? You think everyone in this world owes you something. You think people should bow down to you because you’re… you’re ‘Greg.’ But that’s not how it works.”

His eyes flashed, and he looked over at Maxen, who was watching the whole exchange with a kind of wary interest, like he wasn’t sure where it would end.

Greg’s patience snapped. “Maxen,” he barked, glaring over his shoulder. “Are you deaf? I told you to get her out of my sight.”

Maxen straightened, his eyes darting between us like he was witnessing a bomb about to go off. “Yes, boss.”

Without warning, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful. I looked up at him, furious, and I started to struggle. “Let go of me,” I said, twisting my arm in his hold. “I’m not going anywhere until he apologizes!”

Greg just stood there, arms crossed, his expression hard and steady. I felt so much anger surge in me, hot and relentless.

Who the hell did he think he was?

“Get off me, Maxen!” I shouted, kicking and struggling. But Maxen, calm and collected as ever, just tightened his grip, pulling me away from Greg, dragging me down the hallway despite my protests.

“You’re a coward, Greg!” I shouted over my shoulder, my voice echoing in the hallway. “A coward and a bully! You think you’re so powerful, don’t you? But you’re just hiding behind your money and your men. Pathetic!”

Greg didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me, his eyes dark and cold as he stood there, watching Maxen pull me away. The sight of him like that, so heartless, only made me angrier.

I switched to Italian, letting the words roll off my tongue like venom. “Stronzo! Sei solo un prepotente, un codardo!” (Jerk! You’re nothing but a bully, a coward!)

Maxen pulled me around the corner, his grip ironclad, and I couldn’t see Greg anymore.

It felt like a loss and a relief at the same time, and my chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. I kept struggling, though I knew it was useless.

When I realized Maxen wasn’t letting go anytime soon, I redirected my fury. “Maxen, let me go! You’re hurting me.”

He didn’t say anything, his grip still firm as he led me down another hallway. I glared at him, furious, but he ignored me, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he stopped, spinning me around so I faced him. He let go of my arm, and I stumbled back a step, rubbing the sore spot where his fingers had dug in.

I opened my mouth to unleash another round of insults, but before I could get a word out, he cut me off, his voice sharp and angry in a way I hadn’t heard from him before.

“What the hell is your problem, Aurora?”

I glared up at Maxen. "My problem? My problem is that I was dragged into this circus, and your… boss thinks he can throw me around like I’m nothing. He has the nerve to treat me like some… some object, and you just stand there like a damn statue, doing his bidding."

Maxen’s jaw tightened. "You don’t know what you’re talking about, Aurora. Greg’s been through hell. You keep pushing him, keep running that mouth of yours, and you’ll regret it."

“Oh, I’ll regret it? Regret what, Maxen? Speaking the truth? He’s afraid of anything that shakes his control. That’s not strength; that’s weakness.”

Maxen took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “You really think you’re helping? Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?”