Mafia Doll

Chapter 4

Pamela was trembling like she had a fever, perched on the edge of my bed with swollen eyes and a voice all knotted up. She kept looking toward the window, as if she were afraid something—or someone—would burst in at any moment. I hated seeing her like that. I hated not knowing what the hell she’d done this time.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, my heart ice-cold.

“That Antony… that he’s selling cartel merchandise to one of the Z-Clan’s enemies,” she said, her voice barely audible.

She went quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, the words got stuck in her throat.

“He was closing the deal in his hotel room. My coworker and I followed him. It wasn’t planned, okay? We just wanted to confront him for cheating on us… but it was a mistake. We heard everything.”

I swallowed. My eyes burned just imagining it.

“And when did this happen? How are you alive?”

Pamela swallowed, leaned back against the chair, and closed her eyes.

“Last night. After we ran from the hotel, we didn’t know where to go. We just wanted to disappear. But our stuff was at the club, in the Copper Lounge dressing rooms. We needed money, papers, anything to be able to run. So we went back. We didn’t know he’d already marked us.”

She paused, and her lips started to tremble.

“My coworker stayed to grab her things. I went to the bathroom. I locked the door and… I heard the shot. So loud, so close, I thought it was inside the bathroom. I barely peeked out… and I saw him.”

Her eyes filled with tears again.

“He was there. Antony. Standing with the gun smoking in his hand. And her… her body on the floor, blood soaking the damn carpet. He shot her in the dressing room. In the head. There were no screams. No warning. Just… blood. So much blood. I… locked myself in. I slid the bolt and covered my mouth so I wouldn’t scream.”

I wasn’t breathing anymore. I felt like the air was gone.

“He tried to open it. I swear to God, Vanessa, he tried to break it down. He pounded with his fists, kicked, cursed. I don’t know how, I don’t know with what strength, but I managed to open the bathroom window. I barely fit. But I dragged myself through. Tore my shirt. Cut my hands. I jumped into the alley… and ran. I ran until I couldn’t feel my legs.”

Silence thickened between us. Pamela hugged herself, like she was still in that bathroom, waiting to die.

Pamela turned, her eyes lost in a dead spot.

“But it won’t be long… now he’s hunting me!”

She shot to her feet, breathing hard, and moved to the window like a chased shadow. She yanked the curtain shut with shaking hands.

“How do you know he’s looking for you?” I asked.

“Because I know what he’s capable of, I’m still… he knows that I know.”

She didn’t say anything else… but that look…

“Vanessa, I have to get out of this. I have to talk to the Butcher! His boss has to know what Antony’s doing.”

I frowned. How could she say those things so easily?

“You’re joking, right?”

“No!” she screamed, desperate. “We have to tell the boss! He has to stop him before he finds me!”

I pressed a hand to my temple. All of this sounded like a low-budget horror movie. But the dried blood on her blouse wasn’t part of a script. It was real. All of it was real.

“And now what? What are you planning to do?”

“Tell the Butcher,” she said without hesitation. “If I confront him with proof, if I bring him everything—photos, details… maybe he’ll believe me. Maybe he’ll protect us.”

I grabbed my head with both hands, furious.

“Us? The two of us? Why do you always end up dragging me into your s**t, Pamela?”

“Because I need you!” she sobbed. “Because you’re the only person I have left.”

I bit my lip. It hurt. Everything hurt.

“And how do you think you’re going to get that proof?”

She leaned toward me.

“Tonight, in the early hours, Antony’s going to deliver a truck with drugs. He said it on the phone. I heard it. If we intercept him first… if we take the truck or at least photograph it… we can hand it to the boss in exchange for protection.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

And I hated her. Because I didn’t have one. Because I didn’t know if it was more dangerous to run… or to stay.

Pamela stood up. Anger was written all over her body, but so was desperation. The kind of desperation that changes people. That pushes them to the edge.

“Tonight. In front of my house. At one. Don’t leave me alone, Vanessa.”

And she left. Leaving me with a shattered soul… and an impossible decision.

Hours Later...

My phone’s flashlight burns my eyes in the dark. My heart is hammering, leather jacket, jeans, black tee—ponytail cinched too tight, and I’m too wound up to fix it. I feel alien in my own skin, barely believing what I’m about to do, yet I crawl out the window so I won’t wake Grandma and slip outside.

Pamela is waiting at her building. She’s still my cousin, but her face is different—sharper, lips set, and those eyes: cold, holding equal parts fear and resolve. Like she already knows the cost.

“Vanessa,” she says quietly. My body locks. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

I say nothing. She never really left me a choice. We’ve done everything together; she’s always had my back. The comment just grates—she knows I would’ve shown up no matter what.

We head for Aunt Carmen’s car. As we get in, I ask where the meet is.

“In the industrial zone.”

“What’s the plan? What are we actually doing?”

Pamela takes the wheel of her mom’s car. Engine on, she lays it out: “In thirty minutes the truck will be sitting unattended with the keys in it. Antony set it up so the driver won’t realize he’s handing it to a rival crew. That’s when we take it.”

Her crisp certainty chills me. I don’t recognize the way she talks anymore.