The Arrangement: An Age Gap, Mafia Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
The Arrangement: Chapter 31

I’m pacing back and forth like a caged animal in this basement room that’s become my temporary prison. How long has it been? Twelve hours? A whole day? Without a clock, time’s turned into this abstract thing that just stretches and folds on itself.

The door’s bolted shut, solid and mocking any fantasy I have of a dramatic escape. I’ve given it the once over, twice over—no luck. No loose hinges to exploit, no overlooked tools lying around, and no windows I can crawl out of.

So, here I am, stuck, trying not to spiral into panic or despair. Maksim’s out there, and if I know anything about him, it’s that he’s turning the city upside down to replace me. That thought alone offers a sliver of hope in this dim, clock-less room. I have to stay calm, stay smart, and wait for my moment.

In this spartan cell, there’s one thing that actually catches my eye—a pool table. In the middle of my makeshift prison stands this relic of leisure, stripped of its felt and glamour, looking as out of place as I feel. But the object beside it really piques my interest—a lone pool cue, forgotten or perhaps left behind as some cruel joke by my captors.

I approach it cautiously, as if it might vanish the moment I acknowledge its existence. Picking it up, I’m struck by its heft, the solid feel of it in my hands. It’s not exactly Excalibur, but in the absence of knights and swords, it feels pretty close. It could be a weapon, I muse, the thought both empowering and terrifying.

I take a few tentative swings, trying to mimic every action hero I’ve ever seen, hoping I don’t look as ridiculous as I feel. The air swooshes quietly with each movement, the sound oddly reassuring.

The reality of my situation is stark—trapped with limited options and even less experience. But this pool cue, this unexpected ally, offers a sliver of hope, a means to fight back when the moment comes. And as I practice my swings, I feel a growing determination. I may not be ready to take on the world, but I’ll be damned if I don’t put up a fight.

There’s a small slit in the door I hadn’t noticed before in my attempts to replace an escape route. Curiosity piqued, I tiptoe closer, the weight of the cue now feeling like potential, like opportunity.

The voices on the other side are muffled, the words indistinct, but there’s no mistaking the bored tone of guard duty gripes. My fingers itch to reach through, to maybe catch a snippet of useful information, but the slit’s too high, too narrow. Then it hits me—the cue.

Gently, with the sort of caution you’d use handling dynamite, I nudge the face of the slat open with the pool cue. It’s a small victory, but the voices filter through more clearly now. One’s unmistakably Nicky, his distinct accent carrying a mix of annoyance and impatience. The other voice, deeper, gruffer, belongs to what can only be described as typical goon material.

They’re lamenting their current assignment—me, essentially. How babysitting duty’s beneath them, how they’d rather be out there, in the thick of whatever nefarious plans they’ve got brewing.

‘I wish we were doing anything more exciting than babysitting,’ the other guard grumbles, unaware of just how keenly I’m listening.

‘Just wait,’ Nicky replies, his tone lowering into something more ominous. ‘There’s going to be more than enough action for us in the next few days.’

The other guard, obviously interested, presses him. ‘What do you mean?’ His voice is rough, eager for a glimpse into the plan.

Nicky hesitates, a brief silence hanging in the air. ‘Aleksey said not to spill the beans,’ he admits, but the other’s prodding seems to break down his resolve. ‘Alright, alright. Tory’s here as bait. Aleksey’s convinced that by taking her, he’s thrown Maksim off his game, got him all emotional.’

My heart skips a beat, the gravity of my situation sinking in even deeper with every word Nicky spills.

‘He’s planning to use her to draw Maksim into a trap, right here at Aleksey’s house, where he’ll be taken out. After that,’ Nicky’s voice grows colder, ‘it’s war. Maksim’s crew will be wiped out, and Igor… Igor will be overthrown.‘

The other guard’s chuckle sends a chill down my spine, their casual discussion of violence and betrayal echoing ominously in the cramped space. They’re talking about an upheaval, about using me as the linchpin in a plan that could destroy everything Maksim and his father have built.

As I step back from the door, the pool cue suddenly feeling heavier in my hands, a potent brew of fear and resolve settles over me. They may see me as just a piece of bait, a pawn in their grand scheme, but I’m not about to sit quietly and let Aleksey’s plans unfold. Maksim is out there, and if there’s even the slightest chance he’s coming for me, I need to be ready.

I’m no action hero, but standing here, holding this pool cue like it’s my blade, I’m sort of forced into the role. I tuck myself behind the door, figuring if it swings open, I’ll be hidden behind it.

I hear the other guard head out, then wait a few minutes… alright, it’s showtime. I take a deep, not-at-all-calm breath and yell, ‘Hey, I could really use some water here!’ Louder than I expected, my voice bounces off the walls, sounding way more confident than I feel.

Makeshift weapon in hand, my heart is doing the samba in my chest. I’m not looking to kill anyone, but if it comes down to protecting my little plus-one, you bet I’m going to swing this thing like I’m going for the fences.

Waiting for the door to open feels like an eternity, each second ticking by with my heart rate ratcheting up a notch.

Just when I’m starting to second-guess my whole strategy, the sound of a key turning in the lock snaps me back to the moment. Alright, Tory, this is it—no more rehearsals. I grip the pool cue with both hands, trying to channel every badass movie hero I’ve ever seen.

The door swings open, and there it is—an arm stretching into the room, a bottle of water in its grasp. Without a second thought, I swing the cue with all the might I can muster, targeting the arm. The impact sends the bottle flying, smashing against the floor, water splashing everywhere.

Nicky yells out—a yelp of surprise and pain that tells me I’ve hit my mark. But there’s no time to celebrate; I’m already pulling the cue back for another go. I turn toward Nicky and aim higher; the cue connects with his chin in an upward swing. The look of shock on his face would be comical if the situation weren’t so dire.

Not giving him a chance to recover, I swing one more time, harder, catching him at the back of the head. Down he goes, hitting the ground with a groan that tells me he won’t be getting up anytime soon.

I stand there for a second, pool cue still in hand, staring at Nicky laid out on the floor. Part of me can’t believe that actually worked.

There’s no time to dwell on my newfound combat skills. I’ve got an escape to make and a warning to deliver. Still, as I step over Nicky, making my way out of the basement, I can’t help but feel a tiny bit of pride.

With a quick, decisive motion, I slam the door shut and twist the key, locking Nicky on the other side. Who knew the guy would make it so easy for me? Key left in the door and all. I pause for just a second, taking in the silence of the basement. No sign of the other guard, thankfully. Looks like luck might actually be on my side for once.

I don’t waste another moment, sprinting for the stairs. My heart’s pounding like it’s trying to break free from my chest, every step fueled by adrenaline and sheer will to get out. The thought of running into a locked door at the top sends a fresh wave of panic through me, but I push it aside.

Bursting into Aleksey’s house from the basement is like entering enemy territory. The lavish decor that seemed so extravagant during the day now feels like a maze of shadows and potential hiding spots for the guards. It’s nighttime, the cover of darkness both a blessing and a curse. I thank every lucky star that darkness is playing for Team Tory tonight.

Moving with caution, I channel every stealthy character I’ve ever admired. Each step is measured, each breath controlled. I make it halfway across the main hallway when I hear voices—Aleksey and his crew, by the sound of it.

My heart skips a beat, and I dive behind a wall, pressing myself as flat as possible. Peeking around the corner, I see them, Aleksey and his inner circle, too caught up in their discussion to notice me. The darkness, my unexpected ally, wraps around me, hiding me from their view.

They start talking again, and I’m all ears, hidden in my little nook of darkness.

Aleksey’s voice slithers through the air. ‘When Maksim gets here, we’ll play nice. Offer him a chat, a little heart-to-heart.’

One of his goons, sounding way too excited for my liking, chimes in, ‘And then, when he’s least expecting it—boom!‘

Aleksey laughs, the sound sending shivers down my spine. ‘Exactly. He won’t even see it coming. Tory’s the perfect bait. After we take care of him, it’s open season on my father and his crew.’

The casual way they’re plotting this, like they’re discussing some twisted party plans, makes my stomach turn.

As they move away, their laughter echoing down the hall, I gather my courage. This isn’t just about sneaking around anymore. It’s about blowing Aleksey’s plan wide open, saving Maksim, and getting the hell out of this house of horrors.

As I sneak through the dimly lit hallways of Aleksey’s mansion, my heart is thumping wildly. Each door I try is stubbornly locked, increasing my panic with each failed attempt. With no other options, I race up the stairs, desperately hoping for an escape.

But the next floor is just as bleak and unwelcoming. I dash along the corridor, trying each window in turn, but they’re all securely locked. My heart sinks deeper with each attempt, the walls seeming to close in around me, the air growing thinner with my rising panic.

Suddenly, the sharp shriek of an alarm pierces the heavy silence, freezing me in my tracks.

I’m caught.

The house erupts into a frenzy, lights flickering on, casting long, sinister shadows that reach out like fingers ready to ensnare me. My instincts kick in—I run, my breaths short and sharp, echoing the frantic pounding of my heart.

Rounding a corner, the ominous thud of boots coming up the staircase signals the approach of the guards. Desperation lends speed to my steps, but the hallway ends abruptly. I’m trapped. I whirl around, heart in my throat, as the guards appear, their guns raised and ready.

And there he is—Aleksey, emerging from behind them with a smirk that chills my blood. He steps forward confidently, his presence commanding and menacing. Nicky is with him, looking rough after my handiwork with the pool cue. Asshole must not have been completely knocked out.

‘You’ve been a very bad girl, Tory,’ he says. His eyes lock on mine, a dark amusement in their depths.