GRAYBOUND: A Morally Gray Mafia Love Story

Celine

The day was finally here.

I grinned to myself as I wiped the top of the brass counter with a napkin, singing and moving my body to Gasolina by Daddy Yankee, playing loudly from the speakers in the dimly lit La Rosa bar. The dance floor was packed with young, vibrant people, creating just the right atmosphere for a late night out in Naples.

“Celine,” Alessia, one of the waitstaff called out, drawing my attention from the music to her. She stopped a few feet away from me, holding up a tray housing an array of cocktails. “Dino needs an extra hand at the VIP lounge. Grab a bottle of Nero di Luna on your way. Second door.” She left in a hurry without waiting for me to respond.

I grabbed the requested wine from the shelf, our bestseller from the Gray red wine collection for years on end, along with two glasses, placing them on a tray. I headed towards the narrow staircase and walked past the bouncer standing guard, up to the VIP area, stopping by the second door.

I grabbed the handle and pushed it open, the sound of merry laughter from the four men seated on the long velvet chair, greeting me. There were a couple of half-naked ladies dousing them in expensive liquor as they gave them sensual lap dances. 

Before I could even take a step in, a familiar face among the four struck me like a fatal blow, freezing me in place. Cold shivers ran through my spine, my eyes bulging with sheer horror as they remained glued to the man from that night in August I swore I'd never relive. That singular act that changed my life forever. The one I prayed I'd never have to be reminded of, yet here was a ghost from my past, reopening scars I thought I'd healed from.

My pulse quickened, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Hot tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision slowly as memories flooded back in bits and pieces, vivid like it was only yesterday. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Four guys in their mid 20s seated in the same room, on the same velvet chairs as now. The shrill sound of their delighted cackles while 18 year old me swayed my hips in tears. My screams of agony and pain as I curled up helplessly on the floor while firm legs violently kicked me repeatedly on the stomach and face. My hands covered in blood with a lifeless body laying next to me on the cold floor.

“Celine,” A sharp gasp escaped my lips as I felt a hand on my shoulder, jolting me back to the present. I turned swiftly and it was Dino, staring at me with a confused scowl. “Why are you standing out here?”

I blinked back my tears, forcing out a stiff smile in response.

As Dino disappeared into another room I took slow steps into the VIP room, the stench of cigarettes filling my lungs. When I got to their table I subtly tugged at the mini skirt and tank top imposed on us by the management, deliberately avoiding where that man from my past was seated, before leaning over just enough to place the tray on the table. 

As I began to offload the wine and glasses, a strong hand shot out to where my hand rested. I flinched back in reflex, my body reacting before my mind could process that he was just grabbing the cigarette pack. He flashed me a puzzled glance, but shrugged it off, returning his attention to the thirsty women caressing him. 

I exhaled slowly, struggling to calm my nerves when I caught sight of the man I recognized, watching me eerily from across the table.

My heart pounded in my chest, fear gripping me as I prayed desperately for him not to recognize me.

No, there’s no way he could. Not after all these years. I had changed a lot since that night.

I picked up the empty tray with trembling hands and moved swiftly towards the door, desperate to escape.

“Wait,” an authoritative voice rang out from behind me.

I froze mid-step, my body stiffening in panic. A lump formed in my throat, my pulse racing. Had I been caught? I swallowed hard, turning slowly.

“Have them bring in more ladies,” the familiar man from my past remarked.

I nodded quickly, scurrying out.

Breathless, I hurried down the stairs and barged into the restroom, shutting the door. I rested my back against it, clamping my hands over my mouth to muffle the sound of my sobs. I lowered myself to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks. I remained there for some minutes, crying my eyes out until I could no longer cry. 

I rose to my feet and walked up to sink, turning on the faucet. I cupped some water in my palms, splashing it repeatedly over my face. I looked up, gazing at my reflection in the mirror.

Just hold on a little more, Celine. I assured myself. The pain will soon be over. In a few hours, you'd be miles away from Italy, away from your past, away from your brother, chasing your dreams in the big city. Remember how happy you were that this moment was finally here. You have planned this day for years, and alas your long overdue freedom was here. You can't let old sins ruin that.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and put up a brave smile, stepping out.

The moment the hand on the clock hit 5:00 a.m, I changed out of my work uniform into a pair of baggy jeans and plain tees, then placed the neatly folded uniform in my locker, leaving the keys in the keyhole. 

I grabbed the already packed duffle bag I had sneaked out without my brother's knowledge on my way out this morning and gave the bar one final look, nostalgia setting in. In the last three years, I’ve had both good and bad memories. I may not have made real friends, but I would miss it here. By tomorrow when I didn't show up at work my colleagues would probably be wondering where I was, but it was best they didn't know I was leaving. It was time to close this chapter of my life. 

I headed outside to the taxi stand and hopped into a vacant car, announcing my destination to the driver.

By the time I arrived at Naples International Airport it was 5:35 a.m. I smiled in awe as I pushed the doors open and walked into the ground floor of the terminal, this moment feeling surreal.

I had everything figured out. Once I got to New York, I would rent a small apartment with a part of my savings and use the rest for my living expenses. Then get a job while I wait on feedback from the colleges I’d applied to study under a scholarship. It wouldn't be easy getting a job with just a high school degree, but with my good grades, I was certain I would get admitted into one of the four colleges and be able to secure a student visa for a long-term stay. 

“Could I get a Round-trip ticket to New York, please?” I said to the lady behind the check-in counter, nicely dressed in a navy blue skirt and button-up blouse, paired with a matching silk scarf. “Economy,” I added. I had deliberately waited until now to get my tickets because I didn't want any slip ups. I couldn't take chances with my brother.

“Can I see your passport?” she asked with a polite smile and I slid my passport to her. “Which airline will you be flying?”

“I'll take whatever’s available,” I beamed. Then she proceeded to ask other necessary questions which I responded to, as she ran a quick check on her system.

“You’re in luck. The next available flight to New York is in 3 hours,” she said, looking up at me.

I nodded with an excited grin, stretching out my card to her.

“That would be €423,” she said as she took my card and swiped it into the reader, a beep ringing out. After a long pause she took it out again, giving it another swipe, and the reader beeped again.

“Is there a problem?” I asked, my smile faltering as she looked up at me with polite patience.

She forced a tight smile, her eyes showing hesitation, before she finally spoke. “You might want to recheck your balance. It keeps coming back as insufficient funds.”

I shook my head, my brows furrowing in surprise. “That's not…that's not possible. It must be a network issue. Could you try again?”

She nodded courteously, worry flickering in my eyes as she swiped it once more. And again, and again, the beep from the reader after each DECLINE, crushing my heart rapidly.

“Do you mind stepping aside while you check with your bank?” she suggested gently as she handed me back my card and passport, subtly hinting at the man behind me impatiently waiting.

Embarrassed and utterly confused, I stepped away from the counter absentmindedly to a corner, placing my bag down. Fear gnawed at my throat as I slowly reached into my pocket for my phone, swiping up to check my bank balance, and my worst fears were confirmed when the numbers appeared.

€0.42. 

My eyes widened in horror, my whole world coming to a standstill. 

No…this can't be what I was thinking.

I shook my head in denial, refreshing my bank app three consecutive times, but the figure on the screen still didn't change. €50,000. All gone.

I frantically scrolled to my email, looking through my recent transactions, and I came across a transfer of €50,000 to some account, dated back to around 1 a.m yesterday.

My heart dropped to my stomach, my chest suddenly feeling like a sledgehammer had been dropped on it, restricting my airflow. The email confirming the transfer was marked read, and that was clear proof that the traces of this theft had been attempted to be erased.

There was only one person who would do this.