Page 89 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

Before he can finish, a bullet rips through his skull. As Enzo’s body slumps lifelessly to the floor, blood pooling around him, I realize one of the third parties took the shot.

I immediately dive for cover behind a nearby crate as yet another bullet whizzes my way, narrowly missing me by the ear. A fewmore men pour into the warehouse. As the bullets fly thick, I realize we’re outnumbered, and it’s total chaos.

Bodies litter the ground, the Vincenzi family taking the most hits. Why would they kill Enzo, their leader?

Two guys charge at me, but I take them down in quick succession. There's no good cover here, so I decide to move.

I duck low and make a run for it. But I’m not fast enough. Pain explodes in my chest, sharp and searing, as a bullet pierces through me.

I stumble forward, my vision blurring for just a second as the world tilts. I don’t even have time to register where the shot comes from when another hits my side. I groan in pain as the ground suddenly feels unsteady beneath my feet.

I press a hand to the wound, feeling the warm, sticky blood seeping through my fingers.

“Boss!” Elio’s voice cuts through the noise, but it’s distant and muffled, like it’s coming from underwater.

I try to respond, but the words don’t come. Everything’s moving too fast, and I can’t keep up. The pain is spreading, making it hard to think… hard to focus. I feel my legs give out, and I hit the ground hard, my vision dimming.

Not like this.

Raven’s face flashes in my mind. I promised her I’d be careful.

I promised her.

Chapter twenty-seven

Raven

The night is unusually warm. Moonlight streams through the tall windows, casting a soft, silvery glow over the indoor garden.

I crouch low, gently running my fingers over the silky petals of the moonflowers and night-blooming jasmine scattered across the garden.

My lips curve up in a smile as their scents infiltrate my senses. I take in the view of their pale petals glowing faintly underneath the moonlight touching them.

Then, someone nearby clearing their throat shatters the peace and tranquility. Surprised, I glance over and notice a guard standing stiffly in the doorway— a stark reminder that it’s time for my curfew.

Straightening up, I wipe my sweaty palms on the bottoms of my romper. I give the flowers one last glance before making my way out of the garden. I walk past him, the silence loud between us while we head into the main house.

As I step through the front door and pass the dining room on my way to the stairs, Ezra crosses my mind.

He left abruptly for work this morning and hasn’t returned. Since we arrived at this mansion a few weeks ago, Ezra hardly spent the night out, so I can’t help but wonder why he’s not home yet.

Just as I take the first step up the stairs, the front door slams open with a loud bang.

I jump, holding a hand to my chest in fright. A group of Ezra’s men storm into the mansion, their faces twisted in panic. Their clothes are drenched with blood, not mere splatters, but soaked through as if they'd bathed in violence. The coppery smell of blood hits me, sharp and suffocating, and it makes my stomach churn.

My gaze shifts to the center of their frantic movement. I realize they’re carrying someone between them, their voices tense and low as they exchange quick commands.

As they draw closer, my heart stops, and my blood runs cold when I catch a glimpse of the figure they’re carrying.

Ezra.

I freeze, my eyes narrowing to the sight of his lifeless body slumped between his men. Dark, crimson liquid seeps through his once pristine suit, pooling around two gaping bullet wounds in his chest. For a moment, everything slows as they carry him past me.

Fuck. Two bullet wounds in the chest can be fatal.

For a second, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Then the panic hits.

My legs carry me forward before I can think, my heart hammering loudly in my ears. They’re almost at the stitch room, but I’m barely keeping up.