Captured by the mafia boss

Emily wiped down the last table at Joe's Coffee House and glanced at the clock. It was 10:47 p.m. The street outside was quiet, as usual. Her feet ached from standing all evening, and she couldn't wait to get home, take off her shoes, and sink into her bed. Life wasn't easy, juggling college classes and late shifts, but it was hers, and she worked hard for every little bit of peace she got.

She turned off the lights inside the shop and stepped out into the cool night. The smell of rain hung in the air, though the sky hadn't let anything fall just yet. Emily tightened her hoodie around her and started her walk home. It was a short fifteen-minute walk through mostly empty streets.

As she passed a small alley near the back of the café, she heard something-low voices, harsh and hurried. She paused. Curiosity tugged at her, and before she could stop herself, she took a few steps toward the sound.

Two black SUVs were parked halfway in the alley. The engine of one was still running. Four men in suits stood around the vehicles. One of them opened the back of the SUV, and another pulled out a large black bag, heavy and awkward. From where Emily stood, hidden in the shadows, she couldn't see clearly, but something about the way they handled the bag made her stomach twist.

"This never happened. You hear me?" one of the men growled.

Then another man stepped forward, and Emily's heart skipped a beat. Even in the dim light, she recognized him. Alexander Moretti. The billionaire. She had seen him in the news and even once at a fancy event her school hosted for donors. Sharp jawline, slick dark hair, expensive suit-there was no mistaking him.

What was he doing in a back alley at night with suspicious-looking men?

Emily took a shaky step back. A small piece of gravel crunched under her shoe.

Alexander's head turned. His eyes scanned the alley, sharp like a hawk's. The men stopped talking. One of them pulled out a gun.

Emily froze. Her heart hammered in her chest. Run, her brain screamed, but her legs wouldn't move.

Then someone shouted, "Who's there?!"

She didn't wait. She turned and ran. Fast. She didn't look back. Her lungs burned and tears blurred her vision, but she didn't stop until she reached the door of her tiny apartment and slammed it shut behind her.

She leaned against it, trying to catch her breath.

Who were those men? What was in that bag? And why was a billionaire in the middle of it all?

Emily didn't know the answers.

But one thing was clear.

She had seen something she wasn't supposed to see.

And someone knew it.