Chapter 165"WHAT. THE. HELL. IS GOING ON HERE, ROSANA?" Mr. Santos thundered, his eyes blazing with fury.His eyes widened in disbelief, fixing on Rosana cradling Sergio's battered form. The sight was a slap in the face, contradicting everything he had manipulated her to believe. She was supposed to hate him, instead of holding him close. She was supposed to stand by his side, to join him in his quest for retribution, instead of doing the opposite!On hearing her father's voice, blood drained from Rosana's face. With eyes widened in terror, she tightened her grip on Sergio as though her life depended on it. When Mr. Santos saw her actions, his expression darkened into unbridled fury, his eyes blazing as he took a menacing step forward. Before he could get any closer, Federico intervened, positioning himself protectively in front of Rosana. He raised his gun as a silent warning and Mr. Santos halted, his chest heaving with rage. "What is the meaning of this, Federico?" He demanded at
Sergio's limp body was carefully carried into the mansion by Ville and Enzo. They had called a team of skilled Doctors and Nurses who transferred him to a room they had set up. Together, they worked to assess the extent of his injuries.Days passed, and Sergio remained unconscious, his body fighting to heal. The medical team tended to him tirelessly, working to mend his broken bones, tending to his injuries, and alleviating his pain.IV lines dripped vital fluids into his veins, while monitors beeped softly, tracking his vital signs. Nurses rotated shifts, while Rosana, Enzo, and the others kept watch, their faces etched with worry, and their eyes red from lack of sleep. "He is gonna be alright," Enzo said to Rosana after they left the room. "That son of a gun is stronger than you think""He is taking so long, I am afraid...""Nothing to be afraid of, My Lady. The Don is going to return to us" He replied with a smirk. "He does not have a fucking choice, we all need him"As they contin
WARNING: This chapter contains explicit descriptions of violence that may be triggering for some readers. It is not recommended for readers under the age of 18❌🚫Groans and whimpering cries filled the air as the soldiers dragged the broken men across the ground, their bruised and swollen limbs scraping against the stone. As the soldiers positioned them on wooden crosses, their eyes widened in horror, their screams shattering the air. "Per favore, abbiate pietà!" One of them begged, his voice cracking in despair. [Please, have mercy!]The soldiers secured their wrists and ankles with iron clamps, stretching their limbs taut. Enzo watched, unmoved, as the men's cries spiraled into anguished wails, their bodies trembling in terror."You should know the consequences of every fucking betrayal," Enzo said. "Una punizione spietata! [Ruthless retribution!"The sound of hammering echoed through the air as iron nails were driven into flesh and wood. The first strike sent shudders through thei
Chapter 168Fueled by rage, Alberto charged at Enzo who dodged and weaved, avoiding his blows. He landed a series of punches, but Enzo absorbed them, countering with a vicious kick that sent him crashing into a pillar."Oh, come on, is that all you've got?" Enzo asked, approaching him with his fists clenched. "You claim you are more powerful. Fucking show me what you've got. Show your fucking audience what you've got!"Alberto turned to face the audience Enzo referred to—his three new supporters who watched the fight in terror. In a fit of rage, he clenched his fist to strike, but Enzo blocked it, grasping his hand in an iron grip. With a swift twist, Enzo wrenched his wrist backward, exploiting the wound that was still tender from the previous cut he had given to him—a slit on his wrist.Alberto's eyes widened in agony as he felt the flesh around the cut stretch and tear. Blood gushed out, soaking the bandage and staining the surrounding area of his skin. As his grip intensified, wors
The sun beat down on the deserted landscape as the traitors' bodies hung, stretched out, and suspended in a gruesome display on wooden crosses planted in the dry earth. After being nailed inside the warehouse, they had been brought out so everyone could see.The air was heavy with the stench of death, decay, sweat, and fear. Flies buzzed around the wounds, feasting on the festering flesh. Their once-human forms were now twisted and broken, their bodies mingling with dried blood sagging on the cross in a helpless pose. Three of the men were dead while the remaining five silently prayed for death to escape the pain and suffering. The only sounds were the labored gasps and whispers of despair.One man's eyes rolled back, his head lolling to the side, while another's gaze fixed on some distant point, his spirit long gone from his body. A third man's body convulsed, his muscles straining against the nails. A crowd gathered below, their expressions frozen in terror. The crowd's silence was
YEARS AGO•••The sleek, unmistakable lines of a black McLaren, its tires purring with power pulled up in front of the grandest estate in the city. The house was owned by Carlotta, the midwife who had nurtured Alberto's early years. It was a symbol of gratitude, a gift from Alberto. Despite being surrounded by staff and security, Carlotta often complained about the emptiness in the house. Alberto had moved to his own house long ago, but visited regularly, ensuring her company four times in a month. This was one of such occasions.As the car came to a stop, Alberto emerged, his tall and imposing frame unfolding from the driver's seat. Inky dark hair. Piercing eyes. Strong jawline. A face so exquisitely chiseled, it only belonged to one person, Alberto.His muscles rippled beneath the fabric of his neatly tailored, charcoal-gray suit, accentuating his broad shoulders and chiseled physique. A crisp white shirt, adorned with a slim silver tie, added a touch of elegance. As he strode towa
𝐴𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑠𝑡 18𝑡ℎ, 1977𝐼 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝐴𝑙𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜, 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎 𝐿𝑜𝑟𝑑. 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚. ⎯⎯Alberto continued to translate the diary, his eyes scanning the pages until he reached the next entry about himself. He had skipped over the passages detailing her personal struggles and the fray in her romantic relationships, eager to learn more about his own history and the secrets she had kept from him. ⎯⎯ 𝐴𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑠𝑡 25, 1977𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖?
𝐴𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑙 6𝑡ℎ, 1982𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝐴𝑙𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠. 𝐼 𝑡𝑜𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑐 𝑐𝑎𝑟 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑦. 𝐻𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒. 𝐼 𝑓𝑎𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑, 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑦 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑.𝑁𝑜𝑤, 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑠 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑏𝑦. 𝐻𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑖𝑚.𝑇ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑟𝑢?