Tangled with Luther; The Mafia's Game Changer

Chapter 2

Betrayed into the Mafia’s Den

There was only one way to know for sure. She clutched the gift box tighter and headed straight to the other room, room 209.

Standing in front of the room door. Her hand hovered, ready to knock, but she paused. Something in her heart told her not to. She turned the door knob slowly. It creaked, and the door swung open ajar.

The sound of Matilda moaning punched through the silence. Olivia’s knees buckled. Her stomach twisted so violently she could barely breathe. Her fiancé was on top of her own step sister, making love to her. So this was the meeting he left her to attend.

His hips moved against her like this was something they’d done a hundred times before. Like she was the one he loved. Not Olivia.

It all made sense now. The suspicious way he acted every time his phone rang. Olivia’s breath hitched. She felt like throwing up. The sound escaped her throat.

That was when Damian and Matilda noticed someone had entered the room. It was Olivia. Damian’s eyes widened.

“Olivia, how did you get here?” he asked, shoving Matilda aside and scrambling to cover himself.

Matilda laughed. A careless, mocking sound that echoed without shame. She didn’t even flinch. Her eyes were lit with something wild, something proud.

“Olivia, I can explain please. "It's not what you think,” Damian said, his voice shaking.

Olivia couldn’t speak. The gift box dropped from her hands and hit the floor. She stood frozen, rooted in place. Tears rushed into her eyes and blurred everything in front of her. Her heart shattered into something beyond repair.

When she found herself again, she turned and ran. She didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to get out.

She grabbed her handbag and phone from the other room and before long, she was outside the hotel, out on the street.

Damian tried to run after her, but Matilda blocked him.

“You want to run after her, huh? Wait. Are you in love with her?”

“What have you done, Matilda? You've ruined everything,” Damian said, sinking onto the bed and burying his face in his hands. He looked defeated.

Matilda answered with a shameless shrug. “Well, I couldn’t watch you get married to Olivia for the money while you sleep with me in secret. So I planned something. I ordered the gift box and checked in this room in your name so she could find us here.”

“You did what?” Damian barked, rising to his feet. He grabbed the gift box roughly from the floor.

“I'm sorry Damian. Look there are other ways for us to get this done other than getting married to Olivia. I can't bear to watch you marry her. If you think I’d let her win, you don’t know me at all. I'm in love with you Damian,” she said, stepping toward him.

She tried to touch his arm, but he pushed her so hard that she landed back on the bed.

“Now listen carefully Matilda,” he warned, pointing at her. “You know what marrying Olivia means for my reputation, for the deal with my friends right? You’ve just messed with something bigger than us. You better find a way to fix this mess or else you'd have me to contend with. And mind you, I do not love Olivia. Neither do I love you,” he said furiously, hurling the gift box at her before storming out of the room.

---

Olivia wandered the streets, crying, completely lost. She had no idea where she was headed. Her feet moved without purpose.

All the signs had been there. The long silences. The way he guarded his phone. The late night whispers that were never meant for her.

But she had clung to the good parts. His gifts. Their few dates. His promise to wait until marriage. He had tried to push her, yes, but she’d held her ground. It was her first relationship. She thought that meant something. She thought love meant something.

Why did he choose to betray her with her own step sister? Why tonight, of all nights, just after proposing? The wedding was coming soon. He would have had her forever. Couldn’t he wait?

Her thoughts were wild. Her mind raced, heavy with pain. She didn’t even realize the rain had begun to fall. It started as a drizzle, then quickly turned heavier.

She had walked for what felt like half an hour before she saw a well lit clubhouse across the road, thumping with life and music. Her clothes were already drenched. She crossed the road and walked straight inside, heading to the bar counter.

“Ma'am what would you like to have?” the waiter at the counter asked once she sat.

“Anything please. Just anything hot,” Olivia replied, her voice trembling. She looked at her finger and noticed the engagement ring still there. She pulled it off and flung it toward the entrance.

The waiter saw she had been crying and didn’t ask anymore questions. He just served her shots quietly.

She downed six glasses and was asking for the seventh when a short round man with a pot belly and a long beard came close to her.

“Well well… all alone, gorgeous? How about a dance? I promise I bite just a little,” he said, grinning, his brown teeth flashing. He looked rich and rotten. His presence reeked of entitlement.

Olivia didn’t reply. She didn’t even glance his way. She grabbed the next shot and emptied it.

The man tried again. “You're very hot and I could make you scream in bed tonight after we've had a good dance for sure.” He reached and touched her buttocks, laughing loud and nasty.

“GET LOST!!!!” Olivia screamed, smashing her glass against the floor.

The man staggered back. The glass had cut him, and some workers rushed over to help him and also clean the mess.

It caused a small scene, but the club music was too loud for most people to notice. The party continued around them like nothing happened.

Olivia wailed, then gestured for the waiter to bring another shot in a new glass. He understood.

“Maybe if I’d just given in to Damian's advances, he wouldn’t have needed someone else. It’s my fault after all.” The thought stabbed at her. She laughed bitterly, throwing back another shot. Then another. Maybe if she drank enough, the ache would vanish. Maybe he would vanish too.

It was getting closer to midnight. Some people had started to leave. Others, planning to stay, took women with them. Some took one. Others took two or three, depending on what they could afford.

The club was closing down. Workers started leaving one by one until only the waiter remained.

Then a broad chested young man walked in from one of the inner suites. He was tall, brown haired, a cigarette between his fingers, the other hand in his pocket.

“Sir we're done for the day and I want to lock up. But this young lady here has had a lot to drink and I don't think she can go home by herself in this state,” the waiter said as the man approached the counter.

The man was Luther, owner of the clubhouse. A ruthless Mafia lord. Fearsome. Respected. Dangerous.

“And who is she? Have you tried reaching her family? Let them come and take her away from here. Then lock up and leave,” Luther said coldly and turned to walk away.

“But I have tried that Sir. Her phone is dead and I don't know her or where she's from. She hasn’t been able to pay for the drinks she took tonight. She says her name is Olivia. That’s all I could get from her.”

Luther turned back toward the girl lying motionless across the counter. He meant to shout, to tell her to leave. But something stopped him.

Was it the innocence in her face? The quiet beauty beneath her tears? Or just the brokenness sprawled across his bar?

He couldn’t tell.

“Take her to one of the VIP suites upstairs and don't worry about the money for the drinks. You just go.”

"I don’t do charity,” he said, lighting his cigarette. “But something about her says I’ll regret this.”