ELIJAH (Book one of the Mafia romance)

ness stained my cheeks watching my little feet run along with my mom, most of my weigh

oor poking her head into my room quietly pulling me in. I was so confused watching her open another wall getting my backpack out. My parents always plan ahea

ppen next and so did she. "Momma I can’t l

even with the tears falling down her eyes. We heard voices snapp

g me back to the hidden hallway

ow anywhere. All my life, I've never left the comfort of my home and now I'm supposed to run away. More tears spilled

en who ruined our family. Brutally killing the ones, you

er just as they broke the door. She

! G

from momma and I knew she struggled with the men tak

Bang

h shutting the heart wrenching scream that almost escaped which would alert

er! Fin

hest trying to calm myself and accept it was just a bad dream. A bad dream which have been following me for the past eight years since I ran away from Italy. To t

still, look pretty a Barden Bella cover blasts off the small but mighty device. The sun shining like no tomorrow, cars hooting and driving through, music at a distance, people talking and laughing. I dance around my apartment cleaning and rearranging the place to my taste. Singing and screaming along with the lyrics of t

ching short skirt prancing around with orders of customers by the pool area. Well my last job was at a local diner in New York, a bustling city that have more humans than housing. Let’s just say, I dealt oh so well with the pervy manager who sat in for the owner of the place who I might add is so hot even in his fort

s with th

ed omelet. Buttering the jam on the bread, carefully I place the omelet on it before sealing it with another jammed bread. I smile appreciati

I won’t say life have truly been unfair to me. Taking my family away from me, killing the people who brought me pains and misery, jumping

ime and that time I won’t misuse. So here it is, my story of my very own shitty life. Looking out my huge window at the beach far off, I reminisce the moment back in Italy. A crazy smile crept on my face. I’m no longer that little over price girl, pampered and showered with

once a princess. Now I’m