Saved By The Mafia Boss by Whitney Bridge

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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Ava

The sound of breaking glass echoed through the house, piercing through the silence. My heart dropped hard in my chest as I stared at the shattered vase on the floor, the one Bryce always said was worth more than me.

No, no, no...

I fell to my knees, hands shaking as I tried to gather the broken pieces, unable to control my panicked breathing.

Bryce would definitely kill me for this. Not literally, of course, but sometimes I wished he would... at least then the fear would be over.

I heard his footsteps thundering down the hallway, and I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut for just a second, trying to brace myself for what was coming.

"What the hell did you do now, Ava?" I heard Bryce say angrily as he approached.

I couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to see the rage on his face. I kept my eyes on the floor, on the mess I'd made.

"I-I'm sorry." I stuttered in a whisper, my voice was barely audible, even to myself.

I tried picking up the broken pieces, and one sharp edge cut into my palm. I sucked in a breath, holding back the cry that threatened to escape from my lips.

Tears only made Bryce angrier.

"Sorry?!" Bryce snapped and I flinched again, hearing his shoes crunch on the broken glass as he moved closer. "You're always sorry, you clumsy bitch! But that doesn't fix anything, does it?"

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. I was losing that battle against the tears, I could feel it.

"I didn't mean to... I'll clean it up, I promise."

He leaned down, grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me to my feet.

"You think cleaning it up will bring back my money?" His grip was so tight, I could literally feel some strands pulling off their roots. "You're useless!"

"I-I'm sorry," I repeated, the words coming out on autopilot. It was all I knew how to say anymore.

"Get out of my sight," he snarled, shoving me back. I stumbled back, hitting my arm on the edge of the counter and my legs trembled.

That part throbbed, but I nodded, backing away as quickly as I could without turning my back on him.

As soon as I felt the stairs railing, I quickly dashed down the stairs before he could change his mind about letting me off so easily.

My heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I didn't hear the front door open or see the huge figures walk in, until I bumped head first into one, falling hard on my butt.

My whole body trembled as I slowly looked up. My gaze landed on a pair of polished black shoes first, then traveled up to the tall, imposing figures standing before me. All of them were dressed in dark suits, the kind that gave away their wealthy status.

But it was the man in the middle who drew my attention the most. Unlike the other three, who wore very dark sunglasses that made them look more like shadows than men, he didn't wear any.

His dark brown hair was styled to perfection, but his piercing blue eyes were a whole different story. They were like two sharp blades - so cold, so calculating. I'd never seen anyone with eyes like that before. They were empty, devoid of any emotion. His face was chiseled, ridiculously good-looking, but there was something unsettling about him. He was too perfect, too put-together. It was like he was made of stone or something.

I couldn't look away, even though every instinct screamed at me to lower my eyes, to not draw his attention. When he stepped forward, closing the distance between us, my fear spiked. The fear I felt from Bryce all these years was nothing compared to this. This man was different... dangerous in a way that Bryce could never be.

"What the..." Bryce's voice cut through the tension and I turned to see him at the top of the stairs, his face going from angry to pale in an instant.

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