Chapter 1 - The Splintered Door and Eight Minutes of HellThe wooden bathroom door didn't just open—it shattered.
Through the ragged hole in the splintered doorway, my husband Marcus peered down at me. His eyes were wide, glassy, and fueled by a toxic mixture of cheap whiskey and unbridled rage.
He didn't look like a man who had just nearly crippled his wife; he looked like an annoyed homeowner dealing with a pest.
"You stupid little bitch," Marcus sneered, his voice dripping with venom as he kicked the remnants of the lock aside with his heavy boot. "Who the hell do you think you're calling? A hotline? The cops?" He let out a harsh, mocking laugh that bounced off the bathroom tiles. "Nobody cares about a broke waitress from a twenty-four-hour diner, Lena. Nobody is coming to save you!"
I pressed the phone tighter against my ear. It was still connected. Somewhere on the other end of the line, hidden in the secure silence of a private car or an underground office in Manhattan, the most feared mafia boss in New York was listening to every single word.
“Stay alive for eight minutes,” Vincent Moretti had told me.
Eight minutes. It sounded like an eternity when you were staring up at a man who looked ready to finish what he started.
Marcus lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me upward. I screamed, the movement jarring my broken arm and sending a fresh wave of nausea rolling through my stomach.
"Get up!" Marcus snarled, dragging me out of the bathroom and across the hardwood floor of our cramped living room. "You think you're clever, don't you? Hiding in the bathroom with your little phone. Well, let's see who answers when I throw this piece of junk out the window!"
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He raised his hand, aiming to slap the phone from my bleeding fingers. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact, counting the seconds in my head. One minute down. Seven to go.
If Vincent Moretti’s reputation meant anything, those eight minutes were the longest Marcus had left to live. But right now, bleeding and terrified on the floor of my own apartment, I wasn't sure if Vincent would make it in time.
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