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Forty-seven
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Fated with the Mafia Forty eight
Judy sat on the edge of the bed, her trembling hands clutching an old photograph. It was one of her and Sunny, taken years ago when their smiles were genuine and their bond unbreakable—or so she had thought. Now, tears streamed down her face, blurring the image of their once-happy faces. Her chest felt tight, each breath a struggle as the weight of Sunny’s rejection pressed down on her. She couldn’t believe it. After everything she’d gone through to find her, to reunite with the person she once considered her closest friend, it all ended in this. A cold dismissal. A door slammed shut.Judy’s heart throbbed with anger and hurt. “Why did I even bother?” she whispered to herself, her voice raw and thick with emotion. She threw the photograph aside, watching it flutter to the floor like a fallen leaf. She buried her face in her hands, the sobs wracking her body as she struggled to contain the storm of emotions brewing inside her. How could Sunny do this to her? After everything? What was
Fated with the Mafia Forty nine
The night sky was a blanket of deep indigo, punctuated by the dim twinkle of distant stars. The ocean, stretching endlessly before Sunny, mirrored the heavens above, with the occasional ripple of waves shimmering under the moonlight. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of salt and the distant sound of waves crashing softly against the shore.Sunny stood on the edge of a rocky cliff, staring out at the dark expanse of the sea. Her heart was heavy, a throbbing pain that resonated with every beat. The ocean, so vast and seemingly endless, felt like a perfect reflection of the turmoil inside her. She had left Judy, her best friend, in a way that felt so cruel, so final. The memory of Judy’s shocked heartbroken face haunted her, the hurt in her eyes as she walked away still burning in her mind.She had told herself it was for Judy’s safety, for the safety of the Santos family, Rico, Rosa and everyone in the mansion and perhaps, in a way, for her own as well. But that reasoning felt
Fated with the Mafia Fifty
“30th annual ball” Rico said, dropping an envelope on the table, drawing everyone’s eyes to it. His eyes flickered from Santo to Aldo and then to me.“From who?” Santo asked, picking up the envelope. He peeled it open and read the contents “From father..” Rico said making Santo halt, Santos looked at him, “yes, surprised me too” Rico said taking a sit opposite his brother, Rico took a little glance at Aldo, one that didn’t miss Sunny’s eyes, it only made her narrow her eyes at Rico, she could only wonder what’s going on with those two.“Are we gonna go?” Rico asked.. “dad rarely ever..” Rico halted, his eyes focused on somewhere else rather than Santo, who he was speaking toSunny’s eyes followed his Rosa stood by the corner, her eyes glancing at everyone. Ever since the whole incident with her mum, Rosa decided to conceal herself in her room. She let the guilt she felt eat her up silently.“Rosa..” sunny called, a brief smile appearing on her face as she heard sunny call her name.
Fated with the Mafia Fifty-one
The grand ballroom of the De Rosario estate was a sight to behold. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the marble floors, reflecting off the polished surfaces of gold-trimmed columns. Ornate tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of power and prestige, a nod to the family's long and storied history. The room was filled with the elite—men in sharp suits and women draped in luxurious gowns, their laughter and chatter mingling with the soft strains of classical music played by a live orchestra.Santo stood near the entrance, his eyes scanning the crowd with the practiced vigilance of a man who had seen too much in his life to ever truly relax. He was dressed in his finest, a midnight black suit that fit him like a glove, but his expression was anything but at ease. There was a tension in his jaw, a sharpness in his gaze that hinted at the unease brewing beneath the surface. Silvio. The name had been on his mind all night, a dark cloud over an otherwise glittering even
Fated with the Mafia Fifty-two
The atmosphere in the grand ballroom shifted in an instant. One moment, the air was filled with the soft hum of conversation and the gentle strains of music, and the next, it was thick with tension so palpable that it seemed to pulse like a living thing.Sunny felt it before she saw it—an almost imperceptible change in the energy of the room. Her eyes darted around, searching for Santo, but he had already disappeared into the hallway after the mysterious man. Her heart pounded in her chest, a growing sense of dread tightening its grip around her.She glanced at Rico, who had subtly positioned himself closer to his father, his easy smile gone, replaced by a look of cold determination. Rosa, too, had become a quiet sentinel, her eyes scanning the crowd, her posture rigid with anticipation. They both seemed to sense the danger lurking beneath the surface, as if the entire room was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.And then, all hell broke loose.It started with the sharp cr
Fated with the Mafia Fifty- three
Rosa's breath came in ragged gasps as she tore through the underbrush, her feet pounding against the uneven ground. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the dark woods that surrounded her. She could barely make out Silvio’s figure ahead, a shadow slipping through the trees like a ghost, always just out of reach.“Stop!” Rosa shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the night. She knew her mother had heard her—Silvio always heard everything—but she didn’t slow down. Rosa pushed harder, branches clawing at her face and arms as she ran, but the pain barely registered. All she could think about was catching up, forcing a confrontation that had been years in the making. The trees thinned out as they reached a clearing, bathed in pale moonlight. Silvio stopped, her back to Rosa, her figure still as a statue. Rosa skidded to a halt, her breath heaving as she aimed her gun at her mother, trying to steady her trembling hands.“Turn around!” Rosa’s voice cracked with a mix
Fated with the Mafia Fifty-four
dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and gold. The forest, once a place of darkness and danger, was now bathed in the gentle light of a new day. But for Rosa, there was no solace in the beauty around her. She stood at the edge of the clearing, her back to the forest, her gaze fixed on the distant mountains as if searching for something—anything—that could guide her next steps.Santo approached her cautiously, his footsteps almost silent on the dew-covered grass. He had given her space after what had happened, after she had held her mother’s lifeless body in her arms. He had watched her grieve, knowing there were no words that could comfort her, no actions that could undo what had been done. But now, as the first rays of sunlight touched the earth, he knew he couldn’t let her slip away—not without a fight.“Rosa,” he called softly, his voice tender yet firm.She didn’t turn to face him, but he could see the way her shoulders tensed, t
Fated with the Mafia Fifty-five
The sun had just begun its descent, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling estate. The gardens were in full bloom, a vibrant tapestry of colors and life that seemed to stand in stark contrast to the turmoil that had unfolded just days before. But now, there was a calmness in the air, a sense of finality that had settled over everything. It was as if the earth itself was sighing in relief, ready to move on from the chaos that had threatened to tear everything apart.Sunny stood on the balcony of the master bedroom, her hands resting on the cool marble railing as she gazed out at the horizon. The events of the past week played through her mind like a fragmented dream, each memory sharp and vivid, yet tinged with an almost surreal quality. The ballroom, the gunfire, the confrontation between Rosa and her mother—it all seemed like something out of a nightmare, a world she never imagined she would be a part of. But here she was, standing on the other side of it, alive and whole. Th
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