Bound By Blood To The Mafia King

The underground parking garage was damp and smelled of motor oil.

Alex hit the unlock button on the keys. A massive, black, armored SUV flashed its headlights twice, emitting a heavy, electronic chirp.

Ashlyn pulled the heavy passenger door open. The chassis was high, and her muscles were screaming in protest. She dragged herself up onto the seat, her soaking wet pajamas instantly leaving a dark water stain on the premium leather.

Alex slid into the driver's seat. He grabbed the handle and slammed his door shut. The heavy armor plating sealed with a vacuum-like thud, instantly cutting off the hum of the garage. The air pressure in the cabin dropped.

He didn't start the engine immediately. Instead, he twisted his torso, reached into the back seat, and grabbed a thick, folded cashmere blanket. He threw it violently across the console. It hit Ashlyn in the chest.

The soft wool smelled strongly of his cheap tobacco and the faint, metallic tang of gunpowder. Ashlyn didn't care. She grabbed the edges and cocooned herself tightly, burying her freezing nose into the fabric, desperately absorbing the residual heat.

The V8 engine roared to life with a deep, aggressive growl. The heavy SUV shot out of the garage like a bullet, tearing into the flooded streets of Empire City.

The windshield wipers slashed frantically against the glass. The orange glow of the streetlights flickered rapidly through the windows, casting harsh, moving shadows across their silent faces.

Alex's hands gripped the leather steering wheel so hard his knuckles were bone-white. He pushed the accelerator down. The speedometer needle climbed dangerously high. He was using the sheer horsepower and speed to burn off the violent rage boiling in his blood.

He took a sharp corner without braking. The massive centrifugal force threw Ashlyn sideways. Her shoulder slammed hard against the reinforced passenger door.

"Ugh," she grunted, her hand flying up to clutch the bruised puncture wound on her arm.

The soft sound of pain cut through the tense silence of the cabin. Alex's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. He saw her pale face twisted in pain, her hand gripping her arm.

His heavy boot eased off the gas pedal by a fraction of an inch. The engine's roar softened.

Ashlyn felt the slight deceleration immediately. She knew he was cracking. It was time for phase two.

She lowered her head, letting her damp hair fall forward to hide her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her voice was tiny, broken, like a wounded animal.

Alex didn't look at her. He kept his eyes locked on the rain-slicked road, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched. He acted as if he hadn't heard her.

Ashlyn sniffled. A single, perfectly timed tear dropped onto the cashmere blanket.

"I was just... I was so scared," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I've always been a coward."

She took a shaky breath and brought up the weapon she had forged in the bathroom. "You came in covered in all that blood. And your face... that awful scar. I thought you were going to kill me."

At the mention of the scar, the veins on the back of Alex's hands bulged. He didn't explode, but a dark, bitter laugh escaped his lips.

"You've got plenty of guts when it comes to taking my money," he shot back, his voice freezing cold. "Don't play the innocent virgin with me now."

Ashlyn clamped her mouth shut, playing the part of someone who had been verbally struck and had no defense. She pulled her knees up, curling into an even smaller, tighter ball under the blanket, and let out a soft, suppressed sob.

The sound of her crying filled the airtight cabin. Every muffled sniffle felt like a dull blade scraping against Alex's raw nerves.

A red light glared through the rain ahead. Alex slammed his foot on the brake. The heavy tires screeched against the wet asphalt, the anti-lock brakes vibrating violently before the SUV jerked to a halt.

He turned his head. He stared at the small, trembling mound of cashmere in the passenger seat. The lethal anger in his eyes slowly bled out, replaced by a heavy, suffocating exhaustion.

He reached out and punched a button on the center console. The climate control system kicked into high gear. A blast of hot air poured from the vents, quickly burning away the damp chill in the car.

The light turned green. The SUV accelerated smoothly this time. For the rest of the drive, Alex didn't push the speed, and he didn't say a single word.

Thirty minutes later, the black SUV pulled into the dark, shadowed alley behind the back gates of an Ivy League university campus, perfectly out of sight of any security cameras.

The electronic locks clicked open.

Alex stared straight out the windshield. His voice was flat, completely devoid of any emotion.

"Go back to your dorm. The contract is terminated. If I ever see your face again, I'll kill you."

Ashlyn didn't hesitate. She threw the cashmere blanket off, unbuckled her seatbelt, and shoved the heavy door open. She practically threw herself out into the rain.

She didn't look back once. Her thin, soaked figure quickly disappeared around the corner of a weathered red-brick building.

Alex sat in the idling car. He rolled down his window. The freezing rain blew inside, hitting his face. The cold water stung the fresh stitches of his scar, making it throb with a dull ache.

He pulled a crushed cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag. He stared at the empty brick corner through the rearview mirror, his dark eyes swirling with a storm of complex, violent emotions.

He sat there until the cigarette burned down to the filter. Then, he rolled up the window, ripped the steering wheel to the left, and drove the SUV back into the endless black maw of Empire City.