A Deal With The Italian Mafia

"I shouldn’t have agreed to go with Lina to the party. That damn Lina—running off with a guy and leaving me to go home alone this late." My heartbeat quickened. The thought pounded in my head as I walked quickly, each step faster than the last. The empty streets stretched ahead, shadows flickering under the dim streetlights. I needed to get home quickly. My footsteps echoed in the emptiness, each sharp sound sending a shiver down my spine. The air felt heavy, thick with something I couldn’t name, pressing against my chest like an invisible weight. My phone vibrated in my pocket. The sudden buzz shattered the silence, a spike of fear jolting through me. I jumped, pulse racing, and yanked it out, hoping that it was Lina, finally checking in after ditching me. But the screen made my stomach drop: Unknown caller. The hairs on my neck rose. No one ever called me this late. My fingers tightened around the phone, thumb hesitating over the answer button. It had to be Lina... right? My breathing turned shallow and my feet slowed. Then, before I could change my mind, I pressed Answer and brought the phone to my ear, my breath unsteady. "Hello? Lina, is that you?" My voice wavered despite my best effort to keep it steady. No answer. My heart slammed against my ribs. The quiet on the other end wasn’t just empty—it was suffocating. "Hello?" I tried again, sharper this time. I heard a breath—slow and deliberate. Then, a voice. "Emilia." The world stopped. I forgot how to breathe. My grip on the phone tightened, my knuckles aching. That voice, I knew that voice. I had spent years searching for it. Hearing it in my dreams. Chasing it in my nightmares. "Papà?" The word barely made it past my lips, strangled, trembling. A sharp click. The line went dead. I stood frozen, the phone still pressed to my ear, my breath trapped in my throat. As if keeping it there would bring him back. The street stretched before me, empty, yet suddenly suffocating. The wind wasn’t just cold now—it cut, slicing through my skin like a warning. No. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. For five years, I had searched for him. Five years of dialing disconnected numbers, chasing ghosts, finding nothing. And now, after all this time, he calls, says my name, then ends the call. A pit formed in my stomach, dread clawing at my insides. I redialed, my breath lodged in my throat. But It went straight to voicemail, Just like always. I exhaled shakily. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it was a cruel trick my mind played on me. But deep down, I knew the truth. I would never mistake that voice. A chill settled in my bones, slow and creeping, as if something unseen had just changed the course of my life. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the figure creeping closer behind me until it was too late. A gust of wind swept through the empty street, but the shiver down my spine wasn't from the cold. It was the footsteps. I felt them more than I heard them—a presence pressing in behind me, matching my every move. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. My breath turned shallow. I quickened my pace. But the moment my steps grew faster, so did his. I didn’t dare look back. My dorm wasn’t far. If I could just reach it... A flicker of movement in a shop window caught my eye, it was the shadow of a man. The dim street lights carved him out of the night—a predator waiting. Fear shot through my veins. My stomach knotted so tightly it hurt. I turned to run, but it was too late. A hand clamped over my mouth, swallowing my scream. I twisted, kicked, but he didn’t budge. A solid arm yanked me back against a body cold as stone. A sharp sting at my neck, a pulse of fire flooded my veins, burning, stealing my strength. My vision blurred. My body swayed. My mind screamed at me to fight, but I couldn’t. My phone slipped from my fingers, a dull thud on the pavement. Darkness lunged forward, swallowing me whole.