{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}{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 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
{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,"
{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
{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
{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}{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
{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