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36- The Devil Awaits
Last Updated:
2025-02-18 17:37:04
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Ruined By Mafia 37- The Price of Survival
The moment stretched, thick and suffocating.Dante stood effortlessly at the center of it all, his presence an unshaken force in the chaos he had so effortlessly created. Haines was trembling now—his body stiff, his breath uneven—but Dante? He was completely at ease, his expression calm, almost bored.He took another sip of wine before exhaling a slow breath, as if this was nothing more than a casual inconvenience to him. As if he were merely settling a dispute, not deciding the fate of a man’s life.And then, with a quiet sigh, he spoke.“This is your moment, Haines.”Haines swallowed hard.Dante tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You said you were willing to do anything.”Haines hesitated.Dante smirked. “So, prove it.”I felt my pulse spike violently, panic crawling up my throat. My head shook before I could stop it, my heart slamming against my ribs.“No,” I breathed. “Dante, don’t—”
Last Updated : 2025-02-19Ruined By Mafia 38- Point of No Return
I stood there, rooted to the spot, as Dante’s words hung in the air like a heavy, suffocating fog. The prisoner... the one whose life had been taken so abruptly, was dead because of my choice. I had made a decision, thinking I was doing the right thing, but now, with the coldness of Dante's voice still echoing in my ears, the truth crashed down on me like a ton of bricks."He was killed because you chose to save Haines," Dante's voice was low, almost calm, but there was a sharpness in it that cut through my chest like a knife.The words made no sense at first. My mind was trying to wrap itself around them, to find a way to justify my actions, but there was no escaping it. The prisoner was dead. And it was my fault.I took a shaky breath, my eyes darting to the ground, then to the walls, as if searching for some kind of escape from the weight of this revelation. Haines. The man I had chosen to save. He hadn't hesitated. Not for a second. He ha
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The tears glistened on Haines' face like shattered glass, streaking down his cheeks in silent betrayal. His hands trembled as he lifted the gun, the weight of it too heavy—not because of the metal, but because of what it meant. What he was about to do.My breath caught in my throat as I watched him, frozen in place, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had pleaded. I had begged. I had told him he had a choice. But in the end, it didn’t matter.Nothing mattered in this world except survival.That was the brutal truth, the one I had spent so long denying. I had clung to the belief that something more existed, that honor and humanity still had a place here. That mercy meant something.But it didn’t.Not when you were staring down the barrel of a gun.My chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths as I locked eyes with him, searching for any sign—any indication—that there was still a shred of the man I had tried
Last Updated : 2025-02-20Ruined By Mafia 40- The Truth Buried in Blood
The gunshot still rang in my ears.It echoed, bouncing off the warehouse walls, swallowing me whole, until it was the only thing I could hear. The only thing that existed.For a moment, I thought time had stopped.Haines crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. His limbs sprawled awkwardly, like they didn’t belong to him anymore. His eyes—God, his eyes—stared upward, wide and empty, the life inside them snuffed out in an instant.A choked breath wrenched itself from my throat.The world tilted, and suddenly, I was on my knees.I didn’t even realize I had fallen.The gun was still in my hands, heavy—so much heavier than before. My fingers trembled around the grip, the weight of it sinking into my bones like lead.I had shot him.I had killed him.My stomach twisted violently, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The cold concrete pressed against my knees, grounding me, but I felt disconnected—as if I weren’t really here. As if my body belonged to someone else, someone capable o
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I wasn’t sure how long we had been standing like this—me with the gun, Marco frozen in place, watching me, and Dante...Dante, who looked as if this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.He hadn’t moved.Hadn’t flinched.Hadn’t so much as blinked at the fact that I had a loaded gun pointed inches from his second-in-command’s chest.Then, he moved.Not quickly.Not hesitantly.Just with the same slow, calculated ease he did everything else.And before I could process it, before I could even react, he stepped between us.I barely had time to suck in a sharp breath before he was right there, his frame blocking Marco entirely, his presence so overwhelming, so suffocatingly close that my body went rigid.And then—he did something that made my blood freeze.He grabbed the front of the gun.And pressed it directly against his own chest.A sick, twisted smile pulled at his lips, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, as if daring me.The air around u
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I woke up wrong.My body felt heavy, my limbs sluggish, like I was trapped in a fog I couldn’t quite escape. My head throbbed, each pulse sending a sharp, aching pressure through my skull.For a moment, I couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed. The darkness around me was so thick, so consuming, that it felt like I was still trapped in whatever nightmare had swallowed me whole.But I wasn’t dreaming.Something was off.I inhaled slowly, my breath shaky, unsteady. The air was different—familiar, yet wrong, like an old memory warped at the edges. There was no harsh scent of blood. No cold bite of the warehouse floor.No Dante.A faint sliver of light pressed against my closed eyelids, warm against my skin. I forced myself to blink, my vision hazy, struggling to adjust. The light above me flickered slightly, casting shifting shadows along the ceiling.I knew this place.My room.I sucked in a sharp breath, the realization slamming into me like a physical force.What the hell?How wa
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I wasn’t sure how long we had been standing like this—me with the gun, Marco frozen in place, watching me, and Dante...Dante, who looked as if this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week.He hadn’t moved.Hadn’t flinched.Hadn’t so much as blinked at the fact that I had a loaded gun pointed inches from his second-in-command’s chest.Then, he moved.Not quickly.Not hesitantly.Just with the same slow, calculated ease he did everything else.And before I could process it, before I could even react, he stepped between us.I barely had time to suck in a sharp breath before he was right there, his frame blocking Marco entirely, his presence so overwhelming, so suffocatingly close that my body went rigid.And then—he did something that made my blood freeze.He grabbed the front of the gun.And pressed it directly against his own chest.A sick, twisted smile pulled at his lips, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes as he tilted his head slightly, as if daring me.The air around u
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The room felt like it was closing in.Every breath I took felt heavier, thicker, as if the very air around me was laced with something poisonous.Dante watched me with that same infuriating smirk, his posture relaxed as if we were having a casual conversation rather than unraveling the fabric of my entire existence.I wanted to hit him.Wanted to rip the answers from his mouth, to shake him until the truth spilled free.But Dante never gave anything away so easily.No, he wanted me to bleed for it.His voice was smooth, slow, deliberately cruel as he spoke his next words.“Your parents weren’t innocent, little bird.”I froze.The words slammed into me like a physical force, stealing the breath from my lungs.My hands curled into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms so hard I was sure they’d leave marks.I shook my head, anger and disbelief colliding inside me.“No,” I snapped, my voice sharp, desperate. “That’s not true.”Dante simply tilted his head, amused. “Oh? And wha
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Ruined By Mafia 62- The Move
The conversation around the table continued, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. The voices of everyone blended into a meaningless hum as something else captured my awareness—a subtle shift in the atmosphere that prickled against my skin. I could feel him before I saw him. A new presence. A shift in the air that altered the energy of the entire room.It was subtle at first—the way the men at the table adjusted their posture, straightening almost imperceptibly in their seats. The way their laughter quieted just slightly, becoming more measured, more controlled. The way Dante's fingers, which had been idly tapping against his crystal glass, suddenly stilled. These minute changes spoke volumes. Whoever this man was, he mattered. He carried weight in this world I was still learning to navigate.I turned my head just as he approached, stepping into the warm glow cast by the ornate chandeliers overhead. The golden light seemed to accentuate everything about him—his height, his posture, t
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I continued before he could reply, knowing that maintaining momentum was crucial, that hesitation now would undermine the confidence I had projected. "Sometimes, it just means we're not what people expect." A careful answer, one that acknowledged the danger implied in his warning while suggesting that perhaps the danger applied more to others than to me. Not a claim of immunity or invulnerability, which would have been both false and foolish, but rather a subtle indication that I understood more than they might assume.A brief silence followed, heavy with assessment and consideration. The gray-eyed man's expression remained largely impassive, but there was something in his gaze now—a spark of interest, perhaps, or simply acknowledgment that this conversation had taken an unexpected turn. The others at the table watched with varying degrees of curiosity, their attention shifting between the gray-eyed man, Dante, and myself as they waited to see how this exchange would develop.Then—he
Ruined By Mafia 60- The First Test
I could feel the weight of their eyes on me, heavy and assessing, like physical pressure against my skin. Each gaze carried different intentions—some curious, others suspicious, a few openly hostile—but all shared the same underlying quality: calculation. Nothing and no one was viewed without first determining value, usefulness, or threat level. I was being cataloged, dissected, my worth measured in ways I couldn't fully comprehend. Their scrutiny raised goosebumps along my arms despite the warmth of the crowded room, a primitive response to predatory attention that no amount of composure could fully suppress.Watching. Calculating. Assessing my worth. These weren't casual observations born of idle curiosity. These were deliberate evaluations made by men who had built empires on their ability to read people, to identify weaknesses and strengths with a single glance. I could almost feel them stripping away layers of pretense, searching for the truth beneath the carefully constructed fa
Ruined By Mafia 59- Thrown into the Fire
We approached the entrance, where two men in dark suits stood with the perfect stillness of those trained to become part of the scenery until needed. Their eyes flicked to Dante, recognition immediate, respect or fear—perhaps both—evident in the subtle inclination of their heads. Then their gaze shifted to me, assessing, cataloging, memorizing. In their world, unknown elements were threats until proven otherwise, and I was very much an unknown.The doors opened before us, revealing a foyer of marble and crystal, of art worth more than most people would see in a lifetime. The space was designed to overwhelm, to remind visitors of their place in the hierarchy before they even reached the main gathering. It was psychological warfare disguised as decoration, and even knowing its purpose didn't diminish its effectiveness.The moment we entered, I felt it. The shift in the air. The subtle change in atmospheric pressure that came not from weather but from power—from the awareness of predator
Ruined By Mafia 58- Thrown into the Fire
The car rolled to a stop, the hum of the engine fading into silence. The transition from movement to stillness was jarring, marking the end of whatever sanctuary the journey had provided. Through the tinted windows, I could see the blurred outlines of other vehicles, sleek and black like ours, their polished surfaces reflecting the golden glow emanating from the mansion. Each one carried someone who could destroy lives with a single command, who navigated this world of shadows and power with the ease of those born to it.For a long moment, I didn't move. My fingers remained clasped tightly in my lap, the knuckles white with tension despite my attempts to appear composed. I drew in a slow, measured breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of my heart, to quiet the voice in my head screaming that I wasn't ready for this—that I would never be ready for this.Beyond the tinted glass, the world I wasn't ready for awaited me. A realm of predators and prey, of calculated moves and devastat
Ruined By Mafia 57- The Warning
Dante didn't move for a long moment after his last words, simply standing there, sipping his whiskey with a patience that was both calculated and unnerving. The amber liquid caught the light as he tilted the crystal tumbler, his dark eyes never leaving mine, gauging my reaction with that perpetual air of amusement that seemed permanently etched into his features. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken threats and promises, the weight of it pressing against my chest until I could barely breathe.Then—without a word—he extended his arm toward me. A silent command.I stared at it. At him. My heart hammered against my ribs with such force I was certain he could hear it, the pounding rhythm betraying the calm façade I fought desperately to maintain. But I kept my expression unreadable, years of practice allowing me to hide the storm building inside me behind a mask of indifference. My fingers trembled slightly at my sides, and I curled them into fists to still the motion bef
Ruined By Mafia 56- Dressing for Power
The moment I stepped into the hallway, I saw her. A maid stood just outside, waiting. Her eyes, when they met mine, held none of the pity or concern one might expect. There was only a cool assessment, an evaluation that seemed to penetrate beyond the expensive dress and careful makeup.Her posture was perfectly composed, hands folded neatly in front of her. She didn't look at me like a girl about to enter a world of wolves. There was no sympathy in her gaze, no silent communication of solidarity or concern. Instead, she regarded me with a detached respect that was somehow more unsettling than any pity could have been.She looked at me like I was already one of them. Like the transformation was complete, the metamorphosis from ordinary girl to Dante's creation already accomplished. Her eyes held the recognition of a fellow predator, not the wariness reserved for prey. I didn't know whether to feel flattered or horrified by what she saw in me.Without a word, she turned, beginning to wa
Ruined By Mafia 55- Dressing for Power
I ran my hands down the sides of my dress, smoothing out the material, feeling the weight of what it meant. The velvet was cool beneath my fingertips, luxurious and heavy—much like the burden I was about to bear. Every stitch, every fold of fabric represented another layer of the facade I was forced to wear. The dress hugged my figure perfectly, a testament to Dante's attention to detail, even in his methods of control. Nothing in his world was left to chance, especially not my appearance on a night like this.Marco's words from earlier echoed in my mind, cutting through the silence of the room like shards of glass. His warnings had been delivered in that clipped, matter-of-fact tone he always used—the voice of someone who had seen too much and survived only by learning the rules quickly."You're not going there to speak. You're going there to listen."His dark eyes had been intense, boring into mine with an urgency that made my skin prickle. There had been no kindness in his instruct
Ruined By Mafia 54- Preparing for the Event
My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as the maid escorted me back to my room. Each step felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, my exhaustion creeping through my veins like a slow poison. The training session had been particularly brutal today, leaving every muscle in my body screaming in protest. The marble floor beneath my feet seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, its polished surface reflecting the soft golden light from the crystal chandeliers hanging above.As the maid opened the door to my room, my gaze swept over the large space, my eyes immediately locking onto the elaborate display of dresses laid out on the bed. A selection of gowns—rich in color, fabric, and style—stretched across the fabric, each one seemingly more beautiful than the last. The intricate lacework, the velvet, and satin gleamed under the soft light coming from the crystal chandelier above me. A feeling of unease twisted in my stomach, an unsettling reminder of the event I was expected t
