The man crouches so he’s almost eye level with Kentaro.
“I’m Augusto Vitale,” he says. “Because of you, my brother is in the hospital right now.”
“Good.” Kentaro chuckles while sneering at Augusto. “Sicilian shit.” He spits at Augusto, and it has my eyes going wide.
Kuso. Kuso. Kuso.
Augusto holds out his hand and snarls, “Knife.”
Struck with horror, I watch as one of his men hands him a blade with sharp jagged edges. Augusto doesn’t break eye contact with Kentaro, grabbing him behind the neck. He holds him firmly in place, and as he brings the knife toward Kentaro’s throat, my guard tries to rear back while grabbing hold of Augusto’s arm.
My heart thunders wildly in my chest as I scramble to my feet. Just as I turn to run, Augusto lets out a savage sounding growl while he slowly pushes the knife into Kentaro’s neck until the sharp tip comes out the other side.
As Kentaro’s eyes widen with shock, they lock on me for a second, and somehow he’s able to groan, “Run!”
While my mind is reeling, my body listens, and I sprint as fast as I can toward the opening.
“Get the fucker!” Augusto roars, and the fear his threatening tone injects into me makes me push even harder.
Just as I reach the opening, something pings off the metal doors beside me.
“Don’t fucking kill him!”
Fear has me glancing back, and as I make eye contact with a man who seems to be in his late twenties, he plows into me, and I’m tackled off my feet.
My shoulder hits the ground so hard, it forces all the air from my lungs. I feel my shoulder pop out of its socket, and it sends a wave of crippling pain through my arm, neck, and upper body.
I’m still trying to get a breath of air in past all the pain when I’m hauled to my feet and dragged back into the hangar. Kentaro’s lifeless body is now lying in a puddle of blood that's slowly creeping over the ground.
Horror floods every inch of my mind and body, and I expect to be forced down to my knees so Augusto can kill me too, but instead, I’m left standing in front of the terrifying man who’s as big as a bear.
I can’t stop myself from looking down at Kentaro’s vacant eyes.
My lips part, and for a weak moment, I consider pleading for my life. I consider telling them I’m not Ryo, but a more terrifying thought settles like acid in my stomach.
There are much worse things they can do to me if they realize I’m a woman.
For the past decade, all I wanted was to be a normal girl. I wanted to wear pretty dresses and makeup, grow my hair long, and go on dates.
But as the group of dangerous men surrounds me, I realize that looking like a man is the best thing for me right now.
I have to keep up the act.
I’ve never fought anyone before, never mind a violent mafia boss, but knowing it’s expected of me, I lunge forward with a growl. As I swing my fist at Augusto’s face, his hand shoots up and stops me by grabbing hold of my forearm.
The man is easily twice my size, and as he takes a threatening step closer to me, his eyes lock with mine.
Seeing a promise of pain and a thirst for revenge in his green irises, I know I’m going to suffer a lot before they kill me.
I won’t get a quick death like Kentaro and Masaki.
His fist connects with my ribs, and once again, all the air is forced from my lungs as a searing pain seizes my entire chest.
I’m shoved down to the floor, and when I try to catch myself with my left arm, I’m reminded of my dislocated shoulder when it gives way beneath me and my entire torso throbs horribly.
“Fucking pathetic,” Augusto says as he looks at me with disgust. “Didn’t your father train you to fight?”
I refuse to answer the question and instead struggle back to my feet. My head spins with dizziness, and for a couple of seconds, it feels like I’m going to vomit, but then it eases.
