Ruth Lee (TAMING THE MAFIA PRINCESS )

Ruth's POV

The gun in my face didn't waver, not even a twitch. My breath caught as my gaze darted to the man across the counter. He was calm, too calm for a man aiming a gun at a stranger. His hand was rock-steady, his expression unreadable, as if he'd been waiting for me all along.

"What the hell are you doing?" I said, my voice cracking on the razor-sharp fear beneath my defiance.

He leaned his head to one side, an almost mocking smile spreading across his lips. "You've got a lot of nerve walking in here like it's any other night. So, little devil, did you come to finish what your family started?

"What are you talking about?!" My voice rose before I was able to catch it. The bell over the door hadn't even finished clanging, and already I found myself accused of things I didn't understand. "I don't know who the hell you think I am, but I'm not your enemy!"

"Oh, no?" He leaned forward slightly, and the barrel inched a little closer. I felt my knees threaten to give out, yet I remained resolute.

All of a sudden, I felt the distant drone of a motor-the sound of Dante, rather Frank, outside in his car. And my mind kicked into overdrive. What if he didn't notice I wasn't coming out?

"I don't have time for this," I said, making an attempt to sound a little authoritative. "I'm only here for the gum."

The man chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a chill racing down my spine. "Gum, huh? That's what we're calling recon these days? Nice try, sweetheart, but I've seen your kind before. Always sending the youngest, the unassuming ones, to scope things out. You're not the first, and you won't be the last."

"I'm not scoping anything out! Look at me-I'm just…" My words faltered as I realized I didn't even know how to explain myself. I had no idea what he thought he'd caught me in, but his conviction was terrifying.

"Just what?" His voice dropped an octave, cold and sharp like a blade.

Just trying to figure out what the hell is happening to my life!" I snapped, frustration finally spilling over. "You think I wanted to be here? You think I had a choice? My family's gone-dead-and I'm stuck running from one psycho to the next. So no, I am not here to spy or 'finish' anything. I just wanted a damn pack of gum!

For a heartbeat, the man kept his mask in place; his grip on the gun never wavered. Yet, something flickered across his gaze. Doubt? Recognition? Whatever it was, it served to give me a slim hope.

But before any answer was forthcoming, the bell above the door jangled again.

"Put it down," Frank's voice cut through the silence like a whip.

I turned to see him standing in the doorway, his own gun drawn and aimed at the man behind the counter.

"Ah, the knight in shining armor," the man sneered, though he didn't lower his weapon. "What's the plan, Frank? Shoot me and make an even bigger mess?"

"I don't leave messes," Frank said coolly. His gaze flicked to me, sharp and assessing. "Ruth, come here. Slowly."

I stood hesitant, my feet nailed to the floor. The man had his gun, and I still remained unconvinced that he might not pull the trigger if I should move.

"Now," barked Frank without leaving any choice.

With painful caution, I stepped backward, then another, until I was close enough to Frank's body to feel his heat emanating from behind. He never took his eyes off the man.

"Who is he?" I whispered, barely audible.

"Luke," Frank answered, his voice flat. "An old… acquaintance."

"Acquaintance?" Luke repeated with a scornful laugh. "Is that what we're calling it these days? Funny, I don't recall acquaintances leaving each other for dead."

"Maybe you shouldn't have been so easy to abandon," Frank shot back.

Their words hung heavy in the air between them, thick with some history that I didn't understand. It crackled through the tension in the air, making me feel like a live wire between them.

"I didn't come here to fight," Frank said finally, his tone measured. "I just need supplies and directions. That's it."

"Supplies, huh?" Luke's eyes flicked briefly to me, then back to Frank. "And what about her? She your 'supply' too?"

"Don't," Frank warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Luke smirked but finally lowered his gun. "Relax, Frank. If I wanted her dead, she'd already be on the floor.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" I muttered, earning a sharp look from Frank.

Luke stepped back from the counter, laying the gun out of reach but keeping his hands in plain sight. "You've got ten minutes to grab what you need and get out of here. After that, I can't promise I'll be so hospitable."

Frank said nothing. All he did was jerk his chin at the shelves, and I knew exactly what he was getting at.

Grabbing a few random items, my hands were shaking. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving that nasty cocktail of fear and exhaustion behind.

We eventually reached the car; well, I slammed the door shut and turned to Frank. "What the hell was that?

"Exactly what it looked like," he said, already returning his eyes to the road ahead.

"That's not an answer!"

He blew out a sigh, the knuckles whitening on his grip around the steering wheel. "Luke and I go way back. We used to work together—if you can call it that. Things went south, and let's just say we didn't part on the best terms."

"Clearly."

He turned to me then, his face unreadable in the dim light. "You handled yourself pretty well back there.

Gee, thanks, I said, with as much sarcasm as possible. I'll be sure to put 'didn't completely lose my shit in a hostage situation' on my résumé.

Frank actually smirked at that-a moment of levity in the otherwise grim atmosphere.

The tension in my chest eased just a little, but the questions in my mind only grew. Who was Luke really? And what kind of world had I stumbled into where men like him and Frank seemed to be the norm?

I didn't have time to dwell on it. As we pulled back onto the highway, headlights appeared in the rearview mirror—a car following close, too close.

"Frank…

"I see it," he said grimly, his eyes narrowing.

"What do we do?"

He didn't answer right away, his focus locked on the road ahead. Then, in a sudden burst of speed, he swerved into the next lane and gunned it.

The car behind us followed suit, its engine's roar loudening as it closed the distance.

"Hold on," Frank said, his voice steady but urgent.

I had barely time to prepare myself before he yanked the wheel hard, sending us down a narrow side street.

The other car followed, its tires shrieking in protest as it laboured to keep up. My heart was racing inside my chest, the outside world a blur of light and shadow.

"Frank, they're gaining on us!"

"Not for long," he muttered, his hands firm on the wheel.

We sped through the labyrinth of streets, the gap between us and our pursuers shrinking with every turn. The breath caught as I glanced over my shoulder; the other car's headlights glared into the night like two predators.

Then, without warning, Frank slammed on the brakes, spun the wheel, and we went into a sharp, hair-raising turn.

The other car wasn't as lucky. It skidded wildly, slamming into a line of parked vehicles with a deafening crash.

"Buckle up, Ruth," Frank said coolly, his voice razor-sharp. "This ride's just getting started.