A Marriage with the Mafia Prince

Y

akes people d

nk I would find mys

ke you back to

t source in my shoebox apartment. The walls feel closer every night, as if reminding me that this is no better than a cage. My neighbours fight t

e wall of disappointment. Too high qualifications with degrees and certificates I don't have. I never had the privilege of going to uni

n a competitive pool of ap

I have to be, I hav

ance... And the nurse on the phone... her voice was soft, almost kind, but not enough to hide the edge of finality when she told me they couldn't

es to get her the help she needs to get well again. The local hospi

and shake the

en they think I'm not listening. My stomach twists at the thought, and I press my fingers into my temples, like I can stop the panic fr

th

i

the usual junk: spam, discounts, someone trying to sell me another streaming service I c

ation – Valenti

t thoug

as t

like me don't work for companies like that. They're too... prestigious, too untou

ecause what else

Miss

main office tomorrow at 10 AM sharp. Please confirm

. Val

s Vale

the co-owners

no mention of my resume. Just a

terviews work. This isn't how anything works. And why would Mrs Valtenino reach out to me herself? That woman an

delete it and pretend I never saw it. So

that is already stamped in red: FINAL NOTICE. $8,830. My purse sits nearby, a receipt sticking out from the

y my hand i

it is

ping out an email in response, shaking my head

rs Val

e your offer. I will see you tomorrow.

yssa

is clear. Tomorrow I will

worst that