The Four Mafia Men and Their Prize by M C

61 – The Masked Ball- Part 2

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I ignored her and tried to leave the room only for her step in front of me and her possie stepped on either side of Bon

blocking my one and only exit.

07:0

“Please let me pass.” I asked politely. I just wanted to go home.

“You are the one with OUR men.” She made sure to emphasize ‘our‘. Her nasal voice was like acid in my wanted to hurl.

throat. I

“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I just want to leave.” I tried to sidestep them only for the leader of the group, Jason’s supposed fiancé, pushed me back hard. I stumbled backwards a few steps and she started to creep towards me like she was a huntress out for her nightly snack.

She was in my face. Her breath smelled like rotten onions and champagne. I felt

to walk past them and almost got to the door when I felt a sharp pain hit the side of my head and I fell on the floor with a sharp thud, the other side of my head hitting the marble floor. My vision was very blurry. I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and felt my breath expel from my lungs. The pain continued to travel all over my body. I used my arms to

my eyes and

was filling my lungs. I tried to lift my head only to have a force on my head keeping me in place. I struggled and struggled, feeling more lightheaded as body tried to reach for oxygen. My whole body ached but

feeling. I started flailing

my head down only to

pulled out of the water and a piercing pain shattered within me as oxygen tried to fill my lungs. I coughed up what I thought was a swimming pool of water. Each subsequent breath

his arms around me were strong and warm. I looked over and saw Jason, Charlie, Ben, and few others standing around, looking murderous. I could make out a silver gun dangling in Jason’s hand. Darkness once again filled my vision as I felt exhausted. I welcomed the darkness knowing I was

Unknown POV

upset over those sluts sitting with Jason and Charlie. Delilah

throw those

2/3

Ball Part

+10 Bonu

called a waiter over and ordered refills for everyone.

father, Abraham, saunter

just stare at him and ignore his last question. “I don’t like guing nut much.” I reply and take another sip of my middle–class liquor. There was a moment of silence and the wensel was becoming nervous. When he realized I