{Mac Allister} The car moved along the winding roads. Abebi broke the silence, her voice filled with a sense of relief. "Meeting Clementine was easier than I expected," she remarked, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery. I glanced at her, a small smile playing on my lips. "Sometimes, things fall into place unexpectedly," I replied, my gaze focused on the road ahead.Abebi rested her head against the car window, her thoughts lost in the distance. I could sense a mix of emotions swirling within her. Clementine's demeanour had surprised her, perhaps challenging the preconceived notions she held about powerful mafia leaders."He's a good man and a valuable alliance," I said, breaking the silence. Abebi turned her attention towards me, her eyes reflecting curiosity. "His family has been loyal to mine for years," I continued, emphasizing the deep-rooted connection between our families. Loyalty and trust were rare commodities in our world, and the bond between our families carried immen
{Mac Allister}"Feel free to do anything,"" Tomorrow morning, we shall start business talks." Ermes led us to our room. He graciously offered us the freedom to explore and enjoy our surroundings. His words echoed in my mind, reminding me of the hospitality extended to us by the Ermes family. Tomorrow held the promise of important business talks that would solidify our alliance and set the stage for a prosperous future.The room we entered was a testament to the Ermes family's love for art. Sculptures adorned every corner, their intricate details capturing the essence of human emotions. I couldn't help but be captivated by the creativity and craft skills on display."The Ermes family truly appreciates the beauty of art," I remarked to Abebi, drawing the curtain aside to let the evening sun bathe the room in its warm glow. The interplay of light and shadow brought the sculptures to life, adding another layer of enchantment to the space.Abebi's question about the artworks brought me b
{Mac Allister}As the plane soared through the sky, I couldn't help but notice the contrasting attire between Abebi and myself. Her elegance in the black gown complemented my black coat, creating an intriguing visual juxtaposition. It was a moment of lightheartedness, and I teased her a little."Your girls are lucky," I playfully remarked, raising an eyebrow. Abebi's eyes widened, and a slight blush crept across her cheeks. I could sense her nervousness, causing me to chuckle softly."What girls?" she asked, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of anxiety. I grinned mischievously, enjoying her reaction."I mean your strippers," I clarified, emphasizing the word with a light-hearted tone. The mention of the word "strippers" seemed to catch her off guard, and I could see her mind racing to make sense of my words.Abebi let out a small laugh, realizing my playful banter. "Oh, those girls," she replied, her voice tinged with amusement. "They have been fortunate so far on this trip, un
{Mac Allister}I settled into my seat inside the plane, ready for departure. Fico's voice echoed through the air, reaching my ears. He stood on the tarmac, his hand raised in a farewell gesture, bidding me goodbye."We shall see again!" his voice carried across the distance, a mix of enthusiasm and anticipation. I watched through the window as he waved, his vibrant energy creating a lasting image in my mind.Fico's presence was both intriguing and influential during my time in Trapani. His unique personality and wisdom had left an indelible mark on me, reminding me of the complexities of this clandestine world we inhabited.As the plane prepared for takeoff, I reflected on the experiences I had gained and the connections I had forged during my visit. Trapani presented me with opportunities, challenges, and unexpected alliances.The memories of our conversations and encounters danced in my mind. Fico's guidance, cautionary words, and genuine interest in my endeavours left an impression
{ Mac Allister}The tension in the room escalated as my mother and I engaged in a heated exchange. Every word spoken carried the weight of our conflicting desires and the inherent danger that surrounded us. I paced the room, frustration fueling my movements, while Madame Beatrice maintained her composed demeanour, using a toothpick to punctuate her words."Why have you brought back the two women I rejected back into my life?" I questioned, my voice filled with a mix of anger and exasperation. The memories of past betrayals and the repercussions they had brought upon our family resurfaced, intensifying my emotions.Madame Beatrice, still calm and collected, responded matter-of-factly, "You know that the rejection of a girl from the Tommy family is a death trap for us." Her words hung in the air, a reminder of the dangerous game we played, where alliances and loyalties could determine life or death."I don't care," I retorted, my tone defiant. The weight of tradition and the fear of re
{ Abebi}I packed my belongings into the blue box. Chiara entered the room, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. I could sense the weight of her words before she even spoke them. "What have you done, Abebi?" she asked, her eyes searching mine for answers. I took a deep breath, knowing that my response would shape the perception she had of me."I would never betray Mac, Chiara. Believe me," I said, my voice filled with sincerity. I continued gathering my things, folding clothes and placing them neatly in the box, trying to maintain a sense of composure amidst the turmoil within.Chiara's gaze intensified, and she pressed further. "Then who was that guy you were talking to?" she inquired, her tone a mix of concern and confusion. I paused for a moment, meeting her eyes directly. "It was my brother," I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of sadness.The revelation seemed to catch Chiara off guard. "You never mentioned having a brother," she said, a note of surprise clear in h
{Abebi}I continued my journey, my steps growing weary with each passing kilometre, a voice suddenly called out to me from a nearby car. I glanced in the direction of the voice and saw a man with striking green eyes and a bony jaw gesturing for me to approach. Uncertain of his intentions, I initially ignored the call, my guard still up from my recent experiences.Undeterred, the man drove his car closer to me, persistent in his attempt to get my attention. "Hey, want a lift?" he offered, opening the door invitingly. A mix of caution and weariness filled my mind, but the thought of a respite from the long journey enticed me. I cautiously accepted his offer, stepping into the car with my trusty blue box.As I settled into the passenger seat, the man lowered the volume of the music that had been playing in his car. "Heading to where?" he inquired, his eyes flickering with curiosity."Cerami District," I replied, stating my destination. The man nodded in acknowledgement and closed the d
{Abebi}The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the dim moonlight streaming through the curtains. The heated exchange between Tony and me broke the silence of the late hour. Emotions ran high as we confronted the wounds of our past, our voices echoing in the night's stillness."How could you say such things?" I yelled, my voice filled with a mix of anger and hurt.."You left me," Tony replied, his words laced with bitterness. The weight of his own pain and resentment hung in the air, intensifying the tension between us."Don't talk to me like that," I fired back, my voice trembling with raw emotion. "You never knew what I went through."Tony's eyes locked with mine, and for a moment, a flicker of understanding passed between us. We both carried scars hidden beneath the surface, etched into our souls by the circumstances that tore us apart."But what about me?" Tony countered, his voice filled with frustration and longing. "You left without a trace."The hurt in his words struck a
{Mac Allister}{Thursday afternoon} _2pm I sat on the plush purple chair in my living room, relishing in the aftermath of my meticulously planned church explosion. The news reports were flooded with details of the incident, validating the success of my calculated moves. With each channel I switched to, the chaos and destruction fueled a sense of satisfaction deep within me.My faithful companion, the dog named Rogo, sat faithfully by my side, offering silent companionship in this moment of triumph. As the news continued to unfold, my phone suddenly rang, interrupting the serene atmosphere. Curiosity piqued, I picked up the phone and answered with a cool demeanor, "Hello, who is this?""It's Heretic," the familiar voice on the other end replied. "You did an exceptional job. You deserve a special reward. Come to my house."A smirk played on my lips as I weighed the options. While I didn't necessarily need any recognition or external validation, I understood the importance of cultiva
{Abebi}{ Thursday {morning }I sat on my bed, my head resting on the pillow, enjoying the peacefulness of my room. Suddenly, Tony burst into my room, his face filled with sadness and despair. My heart sank at the sight of his expression."What happened, Tony? Why are you so sad?" I asked, my voice trembling with worry. The cold air blew through the room, adding a chill to the already heavy atmosphere."There was an explosion at the cathedral," Tony said, his voice strained. "Everyone is dead, including Mateo."My breath caught in my throat, and a scream of anguish escaped my lips. The news hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me with overwhelming force. Mateo, my dear brother, was gone in an instant. The tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to process the magnitude of the tragedy.I reached out to hold Tony's hand, finding solace in our shared grief. The plastic chair creaked under his weight as he sat down, weariness etched across his face. We were both grappling with the
{Mac Allister}{Wednesday } 9 am"Hey, where are you going?" a church guard inquired, his eyes fixed on the substance concealed under the blue nylon in my hands. I maintained a composed demeanor, knowing that my every move and response were critical."Just want to see the father," I replied confidently, attempting to divert the guard's attention from the suspicious package.Curiosity getting the better of him, the guard insisted, "What is inside the bag?"I hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing my words. "Take a look. It's simply a gift for the father," I said, my voice calm and convincing.The guard cautiously reached out, his hand grasping the blue nylon as he pulled it open to inspect its contents. His eyes fell upon the innocuous sight of a neatly packaged bundle of bread, seemingly harmless and ordinary."Alright, move on," the guard permitted, satisfied with my response. I nodded in gratitude and continued my journey into the church.As I entered, the soft flickering glow
{Mac Allister}"Oh Rogo, don't you know it's night?" I gently pushed my loyal dog off the bed. Rogo obediently trotted away, his tail wagging with a hint of sadness. I drew my eyes to the parcel he had brought me, and I reached out to grab it. "Thank you, boy," I murmured, patting Rogo's head as he eagerly licked my hand.As I read the words on the card that emerged from the parcel, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. "Wow, Tommy's burial," I said to myself, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of my lips. This was an unexpected opportunity, a chance to finally settle the score with Tommy and the other Mafia Dons who had dared to disrespect me.I switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The soft glow of the moon peeked through the curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. I settled back into my bed; the warmth enveloping me, and Rogo nestled by my side, his loyal presence bringing me comfort.{Tuesday}The morning sunlight bathed the world in a
{Abebi}I sat behind my desk, the glass background offering a view of the bustling city streets below. The tiny artwork on the table depicted wine being poured into a cup, a poignant reminder of the business that had brought my family success and now seemed to slip away. Mateo and Camelia sat across from me, their presence a painful reminder of the betrayals I had recently discovered.My eyes scanned the paper in front of me, though my mind was consumed with a mixture of disappointment and concern. "Our market value has fallen," I said, my voice heavy with sadness. I looked up from the paper, locking my eyes with Mateo. "How long have you shut down the factory?" I asked, a sense of urgency creeping into my tone.Mateo hesitated, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words. I could see the weight of his actions weighed heavily on him. "Ah, hmm," he stammered, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. But I would not let him off the hook that easily. "I want nothing but the truth,"
{Abebi}I lay in my bed, my hands gently caressing my growing baby bump. It was seven months now, and I could feel the baby's movements, a comforting reminder of the life growing within me. My gaze shifted to the large painting hanging on the wall, depicting a crowned figure. It reminded me of the responsibilities that awaited me as the new leader.The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across my room. Books lined the shelves of my little library, and my reading desk beckoned me with unfinished manuscripts. The melodious chirping of birds reached my ears from the back of the house, adding a touch of serenity to the moment.Suddenly, the door swung open, breaking into my reverie. Mateo, my brother, barged into the room, his face filled with urgency. "Have you checked the news?" he exclaimed, tossing a newspaper towards me.I caught the newspaper, the crinkling sound echoing in the room. Unfolding it, I skimmed the headlines, my eyes scanning for any signif
{Mac Allister}{2 months later}Sitting alone in my bed with my rogo, memories of what transpired between me and Abebi came recalling always in my mind. I can remember about 4 mafia Dons voted for me in the Babylon Tower, but the problem is I don't know who they are. My stripper spies have failed to give me concrete information. I guess the mafia truly hold to their secrecy about who they vote for.As I gently tapped my dog on the head, the familiar ringtone pierced through the silence. I reached for my phone and answered, "Hello, Jane.""Hello, Don," Jane replied at the other end of the line."You failed. You were unable to eliminate Fico," I said with a hint of disappointment, my voice laced with frustration. My dog attempted to lick my face, and I instinctively pushed it away."I am sorry, Don. Fico proved to be a formidable target," Jane responded, her voice tinged with remorse."Well, I hope you have something more reliable this time," I said, eager to hear any information tha
{Abebi}I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as I stood before the assembled mafia Dons. The weight of their expectations and the responsibility that now rested upon my shoulders became palpable. Tommy's words reverberated in my ears as he emphasized the importance of protecting my business ventures and the need for consent before anyone dared to cross those boundaries. It was a powerful statement, setting the tone for my reign as the Mistress of Death and asserting my authority over the criminal underworld.As the lady distributed the blue-colored papers to each Don, I watched their expressions closely, knowing that the contents of those documents held the blueprint for our future operations. It was a pivotal moment, as we collectively embraced a new mode of operation—one that would define our path forward.At that moment, my gaze met Mac Allister's disappointed eyes. I could sense the conflict within him, torn between loyalty to his family name and the changing tides of our o
{Mac Allister }{Twenty minutes earlier}I parked my G-Wagon in the designated spot at the Babylon Tower. The full moon illuminated the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the surroundings. Its radiant light seemed to bless this pivotal moment, as if bearing witness to the events that were about to unfold.Approaching the entrance of the hall, a man stationed there acknowledged my presence with a respectful nod. "The great Allister," he said, his voice carrying a hint of awe. I acknowledged his greeting with a brief nod of my own, maintaining an air of confidence and authority.Reaching into the depths of my pocket, I retrieved a golden coin, a symbol of my status and power within the underworld. With a deft flick of my wrist, I tossed the coin into the waiting bucket suspended by a chain, signifying my acceptance and participation in the proceedings.The hall was bathed in a soft, moonlit glow, creating an ambience that seemed both ominous and captivating. The air crackled wit