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53- The Training
Last Updated:
2025-03-05 02:22:22
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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
Last Updated : 2025-03-06Ruined 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
Last Updated : 2025-03-07Ruined 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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
Last Updated : 2025-03-11
Latest chapter
Ruined By Mafia 61- The First Test
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
Ruined By Mafia 53- The Training
The sun climbed higher in the sky as we continued, casting shorter shadows across the training ground. Time seemed to stretch and contract, measured only by the count of bullets spent, the mechanical action of reloading when the magazine emptied.By the time Antonio finally lowered my arm, my muscles ached, my hands numb from the repeated recoil. My ears rang slightly despite the protection we wore. The wooden target was riddled with bullet holes, some closer to the center than others, a visual record of my progress over the hours we'd spent here.I had improved.But I didn't feel victorious. There was no satisfaction in becoming better at dealing death, even if it was only to a wooden board. The ease with which I now handled the weapon was disturbing—a reminder of how quickly one could adapt to violence, how the unthinkable could become routine with enough repetition.I lowered the gun, staring at it in my hands. The cold metal still felt foreign, unwelcome. No matter how many times
