My Manager Fired Me For Saving A Bleeding Mafia Boss — He Didn’t Know I Earned The Syndicate’s Protection
Part 2
I rushed back to the walk-in freezer to check on the bleeding boss.
Greg had slipped into unconsciousness against the frozen boxes.
Suddenly, the back emergency door burst open again as the hitmen returned from the empty alley.
Dan and Kevin stormed into the kitchen with their weapons raised.
They cornered us in the narrow prep area, realizing my deception.
Dan raised his snub-nosed revolver, aiming it directly at my chest.
Before he could pull the trigger, the front diner doors exploded inward.
A massive figure in a tailored suit tackled Dan with crushing force.
Dan was slammed brutally against the stainless steel prep counter.
The heavy weapon clattered across the cheap linoleum floor.
I watched in stunned silence as Tyler Russo pinned Dan by the throat.
Tyler pressed the barrel of a heavy pistol directly between the hitman’s eyes.
Greg coughed weakly from the freezer, clutching his bleeding side.
He was barely holding onto life, but a dark fire lit up his eyes.
His brother had arrived just in time to save us from certain death.
Greg leaned heavily against the frost-covered aluminum wall.
He told me he would not forget me.
Greg looked at Dan with absolute and utter disgust.
He ordered Tyler to kill them both and leave the bodies in Falcone’s driveway.
I shouted for them to stop immediately.
Greg raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise.
I told him I would not have their blood staining my freshly mopped floor.
Gripping a dirty rag tightly in my trembling hands, I stood my ground.
Craig would absolutely fire me if I left a mess like that in the kitchen.
Greg stared at me for a long silent moment.
Then a rich and genuine laugh erupted from his chest.
It was a warm and entirely unexpected sound.
He nodded to his brother.
Tyler hauled the two hitmen out of the diner by their collars.
Greg stepped closer to me.
He gently took the heavy cast-iron pan from my hand and set it on the counter.
He looked down at me with dark eyes that traced the flush of my cheeks.
He noted the fierce unyielding fire in my eyes.
He asked why I never called the number he gave me.
I told him I did not want mafia money.
I did what I did because it was right, not for a reward.
Greg stepped right into my personal space.
He reached out his warm calloused fingers and gently touched my cheek.
No man had ever touched me with such absolute reverence.
He told me that men in his world were loyal to his power, but I had nothing to gain and everything to lose.
He commanded me to pack a bag.
He said the city walked right past me, but I had saved a king.
He told me it was time I lived like a queen under his protection.
He took me to his sprawling gated compound in Bryn Mawr.
I was given a massive suite with silk robes and a private chef.
Greg did not hide me away like a shameful secret.
Instead, he paraded me proudly at a charity gala hosted at the Grand Union League.
The ballroom went dead silent when we walked in.
I could feel the judgmental stares of the thin mafia wives.
Would these ruthless mafia elites ever accept a former diner waitress, or had Greg just placed a massive target on my back?
