From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 40

## Chapter 4

“I need to use the restroom,” she rasped, her voice hoarse and strained, as if it had been scraped raw by the very air around her.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, a wave of desperation surged through Olivia. She dropped to her knees, retching violently, her body convulsing as she fought against the bile rising in her throat. Tears mingled with cold sweat, streaming down her face like a torrent of despair. Her hands trembled as she fumbled in her pocket for the allergy pills, her fingers brushing against the small bottle before she finally managed to extract it. She tossed the pills into her mouth and swallowed them dry, the bitter taste lingering on her tongue.

As she rose unsteadily to her feet, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back was ghostly pale, her eyes bloodshot and wild, as if she had just emerged from some harrowing nightmare. She looked like a complete fucking mess, a far cry from the composed woman she usually tried to present to the world.

With a shaky resolve, Olivia turned on the faucet, letting the icy water rush over her wrists, the chill biting against her skin and momentarily grounding her in reality.

Almost there.

It’ll be over soon.

When Olivia finally stepped out of the restroom, a sense of foreboding washed over her. The room was eerily quiet, and she quickly realized that both Alexander and Chloe were nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t bother looking,” Chloe’s friend sneered, her tone dripping with malice. “Mr. Pierce took Chloe and left.”

Olivia froze, her heart plummeting into her stomach. “What?” she managed to gasp, disbelief flooding her senses.

“We were playing Truth or Dare,” the woman explained gleefully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Chloe drew the dare to spend the night with Mr. Miller. Mr. Pierce couldn’t stomach it, so he offered you up instead. Said his bodyguard could take her place.”

A chill of ice shot through Olivia’s veins, freezing her in place. She turned her head slowly to see Mr. Miller lounging in the corner, a spoiled playboy with a disgusting grin plastered across his face.

“Pretty little thing…” he purred, lunging forward with predatory intent, his hands reaching for her waist. “Alexander gave the okay. Let’s have some fun tonight…”

Olivia recoiled, a wave of nausea crashing over her as she fought back the instinct to flee. “Back off,” she spat, her voice trembling but defiant.

“Who do you think you’re kidding?” Mr. Miller’s face darkened, his eyes narrowing with anger. He shoved her hard onto the couch, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. “A fucking bodyguard thinks she can say no to me?”

In that moment, when his hand tore at her collar, something inside Olivia snapped. Fueled by adrenaline and fear, she slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the charged atmosphere.

“Bitch!” Mr. Miller roared, his fury palpable. He grabbed a heavy crystal ashtray from the nearby table and swung it toward her with malicious intent.

White-hot pain exploded in her skull as the glass shattered against her head, warm blood trickling down her face. Black spots danced before her eyes, but she fought back with every ounce of strength she had left. In a desperate surge, she landed a blow that sent him sprawling to the ground, unconscious. Without a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled away, her heart racing as she staggered onto the street.

But her escape was short-lived. A speeding car slammed into her, and she was thrown to the ground, the world spinning wildly around her.

The sharp sting of antiseptic pierced her nose, pulling her from the depths of unconsciousness. Olivia forced her eyes open, the sterile brightness of the hospital room blurring her vision.

“You’re awake?” A nurse was adjusting her IV drip, her expression a mix of concern and professionalism. “You’re badly hurt. We need a family member to sign off on surgery. Is there anyone we can call?”

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