My mind was racing, thoughts crashing into each other, faster than I could process them.
How could this happen?
How did they find out?
It didn't make sense. I had been so careful. The walls I'd built, the life I had kept hidden-how had it all unraveled so quickly?
The food in front of me had lost all appeal. I couldn't even bring myself to look at it. Panic coursed through me, tightening my chest. I jumped up, rushing to check the door. It was locked. Good. I moved quickly to each window, pushing them closed, checking the locks. When I was satisfied that everything was secure, I turned and, on impulse, grabbed the kitchen chair and wedged it under the doorknob, barricading the door. My hands shook as I fumbled with the chair, my heart pounding in my ears.
I took a deep breath, but the weight of fear settled heavily over me. I couldn't keep my mind from racing. I couldn't keep my eyes from darting to every corner of the room as though someone might emerge from the shadows at any moment. I hadn't been this scared in years.
I turned the TV on, but my eyes couldn't focus on it. The static noise from the screen filled the silence, but I barely noticed it. I didn't care about the news. I didn't care about anything outside of this apartment. Outside of myself.
Suddenly, I heard a soft meow. It was Baby, my cat. He had been lounging by the door, waiting patiently. I opened the door quickly and scooped him up into my arms, his small body a warm comfort against the cold, damp chill of my fear.
"Come on, baby," I whispered, my voice shaking.
I closed the door behind me, locking it quickly before I retreated to my bedroom, a place that had once felt like sanctuary. But tonight, it felt like a prison. I locked the door behind me as well and sank to the floor, pulling Baby into my lap. The tears came without warning, hot and heavy. I covered my mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked my body, but it was no use. They poured out of me like a dam had broken, each sob pulling the air from my lungs.
I don't know how long I sat there, just crying, but eventually the sobs slowed. My breath was ragged, my eyes swollen from the tears. I sniffed, wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt, and stared at the floor for a long moment, trying to regain some sense of control.
I had to keep moving. I couldn't stay here. I had to leave.
I stood up, still clutching Baby in my arms. I paced back and forth, wondering where I could go. What I could do. I needed to pack, to leave. To get out of this city. Get out of the country. Something. But I couldn't let fear paralyze me any longer. I grabbed a bag from my closet and started tossing clothes into it, moving quickly, too quickly. Every item I folded and shoved inside felt like a tiny step toward safety, but it wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed a plan.
Baby meowed, rubbing against my legs, trying to get my attention. I looked down at him, smiling faintly as I reached down to pick him up again, pressing him close to my chest. The smell of his clean fur, fresh from the laundry, was oddly comforting. It calmed me, even as my mind spun out of control. How could he smell so good? It was a small, absurd thing in the middle of the chaos, but it made me feel a little less alone.
I set him back down and returned to my task, rifling through drawers, grabbing anything I thought I might need. My fingers brushed over my emergency stash of cash, hidden in the bottom of the drawer. I pulled it out, counting it quickly. Enough to get me somewhere, at least. I could leave. I could vanish.
As I walked into my closet, my eyes landed on something I hadn't touched in years: my brother Derek's old things. I had kept his things in the back of the closet, unable to part with them after he died. He had been caught up in a world I could barely comprehend-the criminal underworld that he had become a part of, and ultimately, the cause of his death.
I smiled bitterly as I pulled out one of his jackets, his scent still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all. Derek had always warned me to stay out of trouble, to stay away from people like him. But I'd never listened. He was the one who had gotten involved in all of it. The world that had killed him. I grabbed his journal from the shelf, the worn black cover, fraying at the edges. The last thing I had of him.
I sat on the edge of the bed, flipping through Derek's journal. The pages felt worn, the ink faded in spots where my brother had written with obsessive urgency. It had been so long since I'd read it. Derek had chronicled everything-his life, his descent into the underworld, and everything that had happened before and after our parents died. He had always felt the need to document it all, maybe as a way to make sense of the chaos around us.
But it was the last entry that caught my eye.
The handwriting was messier than usual, like it had been written in a hurry, in a panic.
Dear Cassie, it began.
I am probably dead. There are things in this world that are darker and more dangerous than anything you could ever imagine.
My chest tightened. I felt the air leave my lungs, and I hesitated, unsure whether I wanted to keep reading. But I forced myself to.
I was looking into something, and I found something. The truth about our parents' death. But that's not the point. The point is, I need you to stay away from the Roussi family. Tell Gwen to break up with Lorenzo if she can. And please, don't get pulled into this world. You have no idea what you're up against, but if, by some tragic twist, you do get involved, please, find Nicco. I know you remember him from high school. He'll help you. I'll put his phone number at the bottom of this letter. Please, Cassie, promise me you'll be safe.
Your brother,
Derek
P.S.
Nicco
XXX-XXX-XXXX
I stared at the letter for a long time, my mind racing. I had already crossed the line Derek was warning me about. I had already gotten involved with the Roussi family-whether I wanted to admit it or not.
Lorenzo Roussi, Gwen's ex, wasn't just any regular guy. He wasn't some ordinary, troubled boyfriend. He was the heir to the Roussi Mafia, a criminal empire that ran deeper than I had ever realized. Drugs, weapons, money laundering-their influence reached into every dark corner of the city. Gwen had known this, but she'd been powerless to escape him. Lorenzo was manipulative and toxic, but his ties to the underworld were what made him truly dangerous.
Gwen had called me desperate, asking for help when she realized how deeply Lorenzo had pulled her back into his world. He had threatened her, blackmailed her, used her in ways that made my skin crawl. She couldn't get out of his grip. And when she couldn't handle it anymore, when she was too scared to confront him alone, I made a decision.
It was supposed to be a simple confrontation-just me showing up and making him back off. But things escalated quickly. Lorenzo, with his usual arrogance, didn't take me seriously. When I tried to walk away, he grabbed me and shoved me against the wall. I didn't think. I reacted out of instinct. My hand went straight to the butcher knife I grabbed from the kitche counter, and in the chaos of the struggle, it found its mark.
The butcher knife slid into him with a sickening ease, and the shock hit me all at once. The blade was long and heavy, and when it connected, the force sent Lorenzo stumbling back. Blood quickly began to seep from the wound. He gasped, but there was no shouting, no final words-just the stunned look in his eyes as he realized what had happened. His body hit the ground, and everything slowed down around me. The weight of what I had just done crushed me.
Lorenzo wasn't getting back up.
Reading Derek's words now, the weight of it all felt unbearable. Stay away from the Roussi family. Derek had known what was coming. He had known I would get involved with them. But how? How had he predicted this? Had he somehow known about the violence I had already caused? Had he foreseen that I would hurt Lorenzo, the heir to the Roussi Mafia?
The more I thought about it, the more I realized Derek's warning had come too late. I had already crossed a line. The Roussi family wasn't just going to let this go. And they weren't just any mafia-they were powerful and ruthless. If they found out I killed Lorenzo, they would come for me. They would come for anyone I cared about.
Then, there was the part about Nicco.
Find Nicco. I know you remember him from high school. He'll help you.
Nicco. The name struck me like a lightning bolt. I barely remembered him from high school. He was the quiet, mysterious guy who always kept to himself. He wasn't someone I had ever really talked to. So why had Derek trusted him? Why had he thought Nicco could help me now?
The phone number at the bottom of the letter seemed to burn into the page. I had no idea where to start, but one thing was clear-I had no choice but to find Nicco. There were too many things I didn't understand, and I needed answers. Maybe Nicco had some of those answers. Maybe he knew how to survive in this world I had unwillingly entered.
I stuffed the letter into my bag, grabbed the emergency cash, and walked toward the door. Baby, my cat, was perched on the windowsill, watching me with soft eyes.
"I'll be back, baby," I whispered, more to calm myself than him. But I knew deep down, things weren't going to be the same. I wasn't walking back into the life I had known. The Roussi family was not a group you could just walk away from, and I had killed their heir.
As I stepped out of my apartment, I knew one thing for sure-I was in too deep. I had already killed Lorenzo. And now, I had to figure out how to survive in the world I had found myself tangled in.