MY Possessive Mafia Men
Men 173

Chapter 173: It Could Be Anyone On The Street Chapter 173: It Could Be Anyone On The Street Angha

Trying to ease my frightened nerves by controlling my breath, I went toppen it again. I had been too skittish to get a good look at Mi had been inside the first time, my mouth was dry and the food I had recently eaten didn't feel like it would stay down for much longer The sight of a cute teddy bear shocked my system, especially after i had envisioned something much worse. It looked mucent when t sat inside the box, but every nerve in my body obiected to the sight.

With clammy and shaky hands, I took a picture and a video of it, aware that I could use this for extence later if the price would ever help me. On the bear's was a small white card, reading the front content To my sweetheart."

I felt nauseous looking at the neat and elegant handwriting. My sweetheart, if I didn't know it abeady, I do mrc. When he had called me on my phone, he had also called me his sweetheart. It was disturbing that he called me. The endearment was mocking the real meaning of the words. With a tentative hand, I picked up the card and flipped it, the same handwriting was on the other side, but with a new

message.

Happy one year. I read out loud and then tensed.

Even the sound of my own voice felt unwelcome. Happy one year, what the hell could that mean? Tears veled up in my ee but not fam sadness or fright, I felt that too. But I was also so angry, this person invaded my life like it was his right he gave me threats to keep E away from my men. He texted me and called me. He went into my apartment, taking away my only safe space, where I used to feel secure. Where I should have been able to take a break from everything, it hurther fucking hurt to have some vinate my life like that I hurried the bear away from me and shoved the box off my bed in a bitter sort of rage. If I had a fireplace in the apparment, I wouldn't have besitated to burn it all. Every fiber of the beat, the box and the fucking card.

For a moment, I considered contacting the police, but what the hell would they do about it? After the pulkenar tad minimized my situation, I had basically been thrown out of the station the last time I was there. They had made I sound like this was a prank rather than someone who was forcibly entering my life and messing it up while tamiving me in the process. You could count on the police fr one thing, to protect after the fact. They wouldn't do that until after you had been put in danger. My s they surpared my telef that I couldn't trust them to keep me safe. A sob escaped me, taking my body with its force even as ang teas sippet down my face.

I sat on the bed for I didn't know how long, contemplating my options when I didn't have any options to contemplate on. This one had already started alienating me from my best friend because I was too scared of getting Andy hum if I havobed him. This persun was taking away the people that could actually help me because I wouldn't be able to bear t if anything happened to then because of me. This

person was taking away my safety, hit by hit. He made me afraid to walk outside alone and now he had made me afat to be UT MED home. He had been stripping me of my security and already, after stepping into my life only two days pring bad taken everything from me. And I had hoped I could fix this myse, what an idiot I was..

This isn't fait, I sobbed. My body curled into itself as if that would samehow make me feel safer. It didn't. I cried app the teamTS THE IT and only then did I finally replace the strength to get up and inspect the door. The door to my apartment was The and pussin way to get inside. I didn't bother to check the window leading to the fre excape because it could any open izpen the inside out. So, he must ove fitted in that way unless he broke the window with i would bune muted. Why waillen eves Kined the antie fax and how to bas 1 couldn't replace anything indicating that someone had broken inside. There has aming ese scared me. Because that theme, this person either had a key or he had lack-gucked. I hated both of these possibilities, if he had a key can be would here has sess a etter zane in my landlord's on the guys. But if he could lock-gick, then it mean that it wouldn't help to change the dades.

di crity and the topics i de me w

I sagged against the door me, feeling mentally and physicaly frightening for me to dock, the chaser as I was reary scared enough, ent need a wad mes on mp of a bat tanghe a hex am Bokarm sign, i sved sysed up team the wall grabbed the axis drain in my scan and wedged it were the four humuke. A mad adready locked the dendhat and dom bat in place, but I did something extra devi

and self-center tocals on the sights and Frem as I sat down on the best. I knew I would be att

Chapter 173: It Could Be Anyone On The Street

Someone had broken into my apartment and violated my own space. No matter what the officer has said, this wasn't a prank. No one would go to these extreme lengths just to meet with someone for a laugh. Why me? I didn't get it. I was so anonymous it wasn't even funny. Besides Andy and my men, I wasn't close with anyone, especially not close enough to get this kind of attention. I didn't have an ex-boyfriend or some ex-friend who would have been crazy enough to do something like this. My mind couldn't comprehend any of this, it was so far out there, so unreal that I couldn't believe it was happening to me.

The night was brutal, I was in a constant state of stress and my body was locked in my position on the bed. I listened to any sounds from outside, the creaking of the floors in the hallway, doors opening and closing, voices, anything that would hint at me being unsafe. It didn't help that the slight breeze from when I walked home yesterday had turned into what sounded like a storm, making the walls creak as well. With my overactive brain, the combined sounds made it seem like I was in a horror movie, I kept envisioning someone outside my door, waiting for me to fall asleep. I didn't sleep at all, not even a minute. Instead of sleeping, I focused on making a list of suspects, people 1 needed to look into and learn about. The first few names were easy, given each had shown some interest in me and I didn't have a close relationship with any of them. Then I moved on to the next ones, and they hurt my soul to write up. These were people in my life who I cared for to varying degrees. I wrote the names with a hesitant hand, feeling like I betrayed each one by making them a suspect and that it was the last one.. Andy.

I stared at his name, hating myself for ever witting it down. Furious that I would even think so badly about my best friend, I fully believed that if soul friends existed, he would be mine. And yet, the thought that most crimes against a victim were done by someone they were close to had too much of a grip on my paranoia to let him get the benefit of the doubt.

Please forgive me.' I prayed, even though he had never found out I wrote him down as a suspect.

Above Andy's name were my men. If I couldn't get Andy go, I couldn't let them go either. It was sick, thinking they would play with my emotions like that by threatening themselves, but a tiny part of me couldn't help but wonder if this could be some sort of game to them. Even though I was ready to forgive them, the trust between us was shaky at best, and my fright made it easy to weaken the trust further. It was a painful experience, writing a list of names of people I cared about. It twisted my heart and made my soul bleed. And it made me feel cold and so freaking lonely.

It felt like it was me against everyone because, until I found out who it was, it could be anyone on the street. From friends to strangers.

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