A Contract With The Ruthless Mafia

Lia's POV

"Sorry for the delay," I said, forcing a smile into my voice as I spoke to the customer even though my legs ached and my apron strings were digging into my waist.

"We're a little understaffed tonight," I continued. They just nodded, murmuring thanks as I turned away just as the bell above the door jingled. Another customer, I didn't even bother looking up to know who it was.

I just walked behind the counter, wiped my hands on a towel, and started getting ready for the next order. My feet were already sore, my back screaming to stop but the only thing that kept me going was the thought of the bills that needed paying... And Noah.

Always Noah.

He was my whole world.

The sound of my phone buzzing drifted me off my thoughts. It was a number I didn't recognize as it lit up the screen, with no caller ID. My brows pulled together as I hesitated to answer it, but what harm could a phone call do to me?

I answered it, and for a few seconds, all I heard was nothing. I pressed the phone tighter to my ear, thinking maybe it was a prank, but immediately a voice cut through.

"Your brother's made a mistake chica," the voice spoke, smooth and devoid of emotion. "If you want to see him alive, don't you dare call the police or tell anyone. Come to the address that would be sent to you."

And then, just like that the call cut. My screen went black before a message popped up, one line specifying the address I was supposed to be at. I stared at it, breath caught in my throat, the blood draining from my face.

What the hell did Noah just get himself into?

In the next second, my stool scraped against the floor, my legs carrying me before my head could even process anything as I grabbed my bag and ran out.. as if I knew where I was going.

********

The building was a towering structure of glass and metal, too beautiful to be hosting a nightmare. The security guards posted outside eyed me as I approached them.

"She's here." One of them muttered, pressing something to his ear and nodding. Inside, everything gleamed-marble floors, sleek chandeliers, the silence that pressed against my ears like a dead weight.

The man guiding me didn't utter a word, he didn't even look at me. Just kept walking with that same stiff, robotic precision, his suit perfectly pressed while his hands were behind his back like this was just another business deal.

"Heavens... help me," I murmured, trying to swallow the lump forming in my throat, but it stuck there. I shouldn't have come here. God, I shouldn't have come alone. But I didn't have a choice.

After what felt like forever, we finally reached an elevator. No buttons or keycard, yet the doors opened on their own. This place...whatever it was... wasn't normal. 

Then the door opened and that was when it dawned on me, not from the guards in black stationed at the ends of the hallway, or the opulent gold decor that screamed money. It was from what I saw on the wall right in front of me.

A crimson symbol. It looked circular, almost beautiful if you didn't know what it meant. But I did. Everyone in the city knew it... even if they pretended not to. A symbol that didn't show up on news channels or police reports because of how dangerous it was.

The Crimson Circle.

This wasn't just a gang. 

This was the most brutal and dangerous criminal organization in New York, and my brother had just gotten himself involved with them.