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Roxy’s POV

“Ahh! Baby! H… harder.” My body froze at the door. My heart beat rapidly, and my stomach churned.

“Do you like it? Do you like how I’m pounding into your greedy cunt?”

I wanted to wash my ears as the voice carried toward me. I stood still, paralyzed with shock. My legs didn’t dare move inside the apartment to see what was happening.

I mentally face-palmed myself. What was there to see? A part of me already knew what was happening. Fuck! I just wanted the earth to open up and swallow me.

My day was already ruined when I got the call from my office that I’d lost my job because they were downsizing. I begged and pleaded with them to not lay me off, to give me any position they still had, but all my begging was useless.

I gritted my teeth as the sounds of their moans grated on my nerves. Without thinking about anything I barged into the room, opening the door with a bang.

A gasp left my mouth as my eyes fell on the man I thought was my boyfriend. He had been the ideal boyfriend, a safe place for me, and now my eyes followed him thrusting into someone else, my heart cracked.

He had been safe and grounded, and I had needed those things in my life. Our sex life was okay-ish, the kind where I had to take care of myself afterwards, but at least it gave me the normalcy I had always craved.

“What the fuck is this?” I gritted out the words, my tone calm but deadly.

It was just then that he froze on top of the woman. His head snapped toward me and his eyes widened dramatically before he jumped off her in an instant.

“Ro… Roxy! Baby? It’s not what you think.” He stuttered like a fool, using the same old line all losers and cheaters used.

My eyes fell on his limp dick, which he hurriedly tried to cover with his hands. Two years ago, no one would’ve dared to try this with me. I would have shot the person in the eye even before the thought crossed their mind. I pushed back my intrusive thoughts before I did something reckless.

“So, you’re not fucking a woman with your little dick on my bed?” My words came out sarcastic, but the anger in my tone was impossible to miss.

“Roxy, please…” He tried to come closer, but my glare stopped him. The woman still laid on the bed with her legs wide spread and a smirk on her lips.

“If you both don’t get the fuck out of my apartment, I will shoot you.” I crossed my arms, waiting for them to leave, but they just stood there. Justin was too stunned to speak.

He had never seen this version of me. I never cursed, never got angry, never glared at him. He only ever saw the tamed, calm, good-girl version of me.

If he had known I was the Italian Mafia Heiress of the biggest and strongest crime family, what would his reaction have been?

“If you think I’m bluffing, then you’re in for a big motherfucking surprise.” I pulled out my gun from the back of my jeans and pointed it at the woman. She immediately closed her legs, and her face contorted in fear.

A thrill of excitement coursed through me as I felt the coldness of the gun in my palm, smelled the faint trace of oil and steel, and saw the fear in their eyes. I may have hated my father and his world of blood and violence, but I had been born in that chaos and raised in it. Violence lived in my blood, even when I tried to tame it.

“What is this, Roxy?” He had the nerve to ask me. I rolled my eyes and shifted the gun toward him. The woman took her chance and instantly scrambled away naked, trying to pull on her clothes.

“Don’t dare me Justin!” My eyes narrowed on him and my finger curled tighter on the trigger. His eyes locked on my finger and his eyes widened.

“Okay! Okay!” He raised his hand. “Fuck! It’s not like you were pleasant to be with after all.” Cursing and hissing, he shoved his legs into his pants, reached across the bed and threw his shirt on.

“Out!!!” I yelled, moving the gun between him and the door.

“Slut!” He muttered as he rushed out of my apartment.

As soon as he left, I ripped the sheets off the bed and dragged them to the back of the apartment. On my way, I grabbed a whiskey bottle and a lighter.

The rage inside me bubbled—not just about my boyfriend’s cheating, but the mess my life had become in just a single day. I had run from my father’s clutches for safety, but it was all crumbling in front of me.

I threw the sheets to the ground, emptied half the bottle over them, and lit it. Flames danced high as I stood there, watching my life burn. My heart ached, grieving a relationship that had never been complete, but one I had convinced myself was love.

Everything was burning around me—the life I had carefully crafted, the job that gave me food and shelter, the boyfriend who had offered me care. Now I had nothing, just like the day I lost the most important person in my life. He had been ripped away so suddenly I didn't even know what to do. He had been my anchor. With him gone, I had no reason to stay. My father never looked at me, never asked how I was, never cared about anything but his cartel.

My phone buzzed with a text. With blurry eyes, I opened it, expecting Justin’s excuses or a message from my boss. But what I saw froze me.

A message from the visa officer: my visa had expired a month ago, and they would visit tomorrow with the cops to take me to the station.

My heart dropped along with my phone. I stayed rooted where I stood as my life spun before my eyes. I was back at the same point I had been two years ago—when I lost everything.

I couldn’t go to prison.

I couldn’t go back to my father.

What the hell was I going to do?