The Mafia Bride (Katrina and Silas)

Chapter 118

Katrina’s POV

“Get in there,” One of the men grunted, pulling me harshly.

“Let me go! Silas won’t you off,” I growled, still fighting to free myself from their hold.

When they heard what I had said, they threw their head back and laughed, their body shaking with each fit of laughter.

What?

“What are the chances Silas would be coming back from the dead? You have no one to save you now girl,” One of the men said, pushing me into the room.

I stumbled forward as the guards shoved me inside, my knees hitting the hard floor. The sharp sting of pain shot up reg, but I refused to let out a sound. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

What was that he said now? Something about Silas being unable to save me now?

“Is Silas okay?“I asked, turning sharply to meet their gaze. There’s no way something had happened to Silas, no fucking way.

And yet, when their nonchalant gaze met mine, I didn’t know what to believe.

“It has to be a lie,” I whispered. I refused to believe it. The first drop of my tears fell onto my trembling hands, and I stared at it in disbelief.

I was… crying?

I didn’t believe the tear drop belonged to me till another drop slid down my cheeks, falling on the same spot.

“I would say it was good riddance. Someone who has a weak link cannot lead this mafia,” one of the men said and my head shot

up, my eyes widening in disbelief.

How could he say that?

him?” I screamed, hot

as they watched me crying over the man who

• me.

One of them said flatly, as if he was talking about the

refusing to accept their

a whisper. I stumbled back, the room spinning

-he can’t be.

here Phillip decides what he wants to do

room

steady my breathing but it was hard to

I

I’d be in love with Silas. No way

1/8

it, it seemed that I

for that realization to sink in and once again, thank you, tear drops rolled down

knees to my chest,

for the death of a love that was

was being treated and I cried for everything I ever

thing for all the torrents to be let out, and that

sat there, was it minutes or hours? I had no idea. But I had stopped crying just sat there,

in, trying to figure out if there was a

at

77%

point and now

sorry for myself would only take me straight to death and I need to

except a wooden chair in the corner and it looked worn and splintered. I doubt I

around for a while, I sunk back to the floor

threats. They didn’t even care if I was innocent. To them, I was just an obstacle–a problem they wanted gone and it seemed they