Mafia Puppet - Book cover

Mafia Puppet

Jessica M

a trail of blood

FRANCESCA

I’M TOO LATE. My sister’s body sprawls unconscious on the rich, white marble floors where Father has thrown her. Blood seeps from her forehead, staining her tan face.

But Father isn’t finished. My footsteps echo in the large house as I sprint down the stairs, only to be restrained by Silvio’s firm grip on my elbow.

“Father, please stop!” I shout before I can stop myself. Father’s hand freezes in midair before he slowly rises. My heart turns to ice. I’m next. He’s not going to spare me anymore.

Silvio’s grip on my arm slackens as Father stalks toward me. “I’m sorry, Father. I’m so sorry. Please,” I plead helplessly.

“How dare you, whore?” he snarls, raising his hand to strike me.

But the blow never lands.

“Mr. Lastra, the Don wants Miss Lastra clean.” There’s a subtle warning in Silvio’s voice as he steps in front of me, shielding me from my own father.

Father lowers his hand, clearly displeased. His glare never leaves my face as I stand timidly behind the bodyguard.

This isn’t the first time Father has hit me, but it is the first time he’s done it in front of the Don’s man.

His eyes never leave my face as he strides past us and up the stairs. Once he’s out of sight, I rush to my sister.

“We need to take her to the hospital, Silvio!” I cry, cradling Arianna’s head in my lap. I hear him approach.

“The Don hasn’t permitted you to go out. I’ll send men to take her,” Silvio says, crouching down beside me.

I shake my head immediately. “No, please. I need to stay with her.”

Silvio doesn’t even glance at me as he lifts her up and starts moving toward the large glass doors. I run after him, my shirt splattered with red. I don’t care. She’s more important than my shirt.

He doesn’t think I’ll follow, so when I slide into the back seat, where he’s laid my sister, he glares at me.

“Start the car,” he tells the driver. I don’t think he’ll come. But soon, he’s sitting in the passenger seat, barking orders at the driver, looking annoyed and grumpy.

Arianna looks close to death. If not for the faint pulse I can feel on her wrist, I would’ve assumed she was. I can’t lose her.

She’s the only light in my life of darkness. I can’t lose my only hope of love.

I don’t even realize when we arrive at the hospital. In fact, I don’t even think we’re supposed to be here. What will we tell them if they ask?

***

“Miss Lastra, it would be better if you stayed in the car now,” Silvio speaks once they start the procedure on Arianna. It’s a severe hit to the head.

When they ask, Silvio lies and tells them that she fell down the stairs. That she did, but it wasn’t all that happened. It doesn’t exactly matter because the doctor is following the code.

He’s with us.

“No, I will stay.” Apparently, I’m in full rebel mode. I’ve never disobeyed anyone as much as I have today.

My tears have dried, and I make no attempt to cry more. It’s a sign of weakness to cry, and I certainly don’t want to break all the rules today, especially not in front of everyone.

Silvio stands in front of me, making me glance up. His face is hard and uninviting, but it gives me the comfort that I need.

In some twisted way, at least I know that there’s someone who won’t leave me. Plus, Silvio has been the only constant thing in my life for years.

“The Don wants you home, so you will go home, Miss Lastra.” I don’t disobey him this time. It’s the Don’s orders.

I don’t need to see him to know that I’ll be punished severely if I argue any further.

“Miss!” someone dares to yell while I follow the bodyguard out. I turn around to find a man running toward me.

He still has boyish features but he doesn’t look any younger than me. “You dropped your ten-dollar bill,” he says, handing me something I’d never carry in my nightclothes.

I don’t know whether my resolve is that good or if he’s just blind. Doesn’t he realize that this is a hospital where people come to mourn?

He seems flustered, and not in a sad way. He seems familiar to me. Then I realize he goes to the same university as me.

“It’s not mine,” I brush him off. I don’t need Silvio mentioning this to the Don, which I’m sure he’s going to. I don’t need a beating for it either.

“Are you sure?” He grabs my hand out of reflex when I try to leave before quickly letting it go. “Sor—”

But it’s too late. He’s already slammed into the wall before I can even blink. “You’re dead, kid. Dead.” Silvio’s voice is a snarl.

I don’t interrupt. I’ve heard the stories and witnessed them firsthand. I don’t want to add any more fuel to the fire. It would just make things worse.

Getting hit by the Don is much worse than getting a beating from Father. I’m not going to be that someone, especially since I’d have to live the rest of my life with him.

So I don’t interrupt his men. I need to be good and obedient, just like the Don wants.

“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend,” the poor boy stutters. I can see that this catches the attention of a lot of people, but no one dares call the police.

Everyone has a hint of who we are. Silvio is wearing a fitted black shirt with jeans, not to mention his many tattoos.

He's got that stereotypical gangster look about him. Who in their right mind would want to tangle with someone like that?

I can't tell if she's his sister or his girlfriend, but some fool decides it's a good idea to step in. Even I'm not that reckless. All it gets the guy is another punch to the gut.

“STOP! Help him!” she yells at me, and I can't help but flinch. Her eyes are filled with tears as she tries to shove Silvio away, but he just backhands her. I flinch again, this time it's obvious.

I let out a sigh of relief when Silvio finally releases the man. He crumples to the ground, clutching his stomach, blood spilling from his mouth and staining the white tiles.

I don't stick around to see how he's doing. I just quietly follow the burly bodyguard out of there.

It's not until I'm in the car that I realize just how much skin my outfit is showing. I try to tug my shorts down a bit.

When that doesn't do the trick, I attempt to pull my oversized shirt down. That's a no-go too.

I'm dead, is the only thought looping in my mind. Dead. Dead. Dead

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