Page 80 of The Gangster King

I need to get out.

If I’m successful and once Dante learns I have gone, it will tip him over the edge. He will lose his damn mind.

There won’t be much time for me to get as far away as I can.

Who will he kill as a result?

What will he do to find me? It’s going to be harder to escape this man than it is my own father.

Do I really want to leave him?

The thought enters my mind without permission, shaking me to my core.What the hell Addy, run for crying out loud.

I do not want to be a part of this world anymore. I hate it. I despise the things they do. I hate the outdated and sexist mindset, treating women like assets. The horrendous activities I can barely acknowledge. I know I’ve only scratched the surface with what I know.

None of this is fiction to me like those who watch mafia movies or read books. I live in homes paid for by the pain and suffering of others.

Every piece of clothing.

Every bite I eat.

It’s all laced with evil.

Including Dante’s family.

Until today I’ve had little to no choice.

Now, at this very moment, I do. The window of opportunity is right fucking now.

“The ocean was so tranquil. The bluest blue I’ve ever seen, Adelina. My god. You must go,” Jessica continues.

She places her black mask on the counter beside the sink, and before she can glance at me, I have the velvet covered stool in my arms. I smash it over the back of her head.

She collapses to the floor.

Oh God. I hope she’s not dead.

I don’t have time to think about it.

––––––––

IN THREE MINUTES I have Jessica’s dress on, my hair pinned up differently and her black masquerade mask over my face.

I’m shaking with adrenaline as I drape my red dress over her body—I don’t have time to do anything more—and step out of the restroom.

“Yes, call me.” I try to disguise my voice in a high pitch and walk past Jono. Every step I take, my heart slams inside my chest like a drum.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

Jessica’s dress is a full-length black gown, which she wore with black silk gloves. Her feet were a different size, so I still have my red heels on. They’re invisible under the full princess skirt, thankfully, but I don’t think these goons are fashion conscience enough to notice.

I near the end of the corridor and glance around, slightly limited by the mask I keep over my face.

No one grabs me.