{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}I sat on the porch, the warm breeze gently brushing against my face. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness. The street was quiet, as it usually was, but today it seemed even more deserted than usual. The only person I had in this whole neighborhood was my dear friend Ada, and I cherished every moment we spent together.Ada, with her beautiful chocolate skin, had been my rock through thick and thin. We had shared countless secrets, dreams, and aspirations, making our bond unbreakable. I could always count on her to brighten my day, even in the darkest of times."Did she call you again?" Ada asked, her voice filled with concern. I looked up at her, my eyes betraying the weariness I felt. "Yes, I only got two days left out of the three weeks she gave me," I replied, my voice tinged with exhaustion.Ada's face softened, and her eyes mirrored the sympathy she felt for me. "I am so sorry," she said, her voice filled with genuine empathy. I appreciated her words, knowing tha
{Abebi}The morning sun cast its warm glow through the kitchen windows as I hurriedly prepared yam and egg sauce for Tony and myself. The aroma of the sizzling eggs filled the air, mingling with a sense of unease that weighed heavily on my heart.As I set the plates on the table, Tony's observant eyes caught the sadness etched across my face. He voiced his concern, his voice filled with genuine care. "Why are you sad?" he asked, his words cutting through the air.I forced a smile, hoping to mask my true emotions. "It's nothing," I replied, my voice laced with an attempt at reassurance. I didn't want to burden Tony with the weight of my worries. He was already carrying so much on his young shoulders.With a subtle change of subject, I urged him to hurry and catch the school bus. "You should hurry, or you're going to miss the school bus," I gently reminded him, my tone filled with a touch of distraction. I didn't want him dwelling on the looming debts my father had accumulated.Tony'
{Abebi} I stepped inside the bus and found myself among a group of girls who mirrored my own anticipation and excitement. Their animated chatter filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere.Leaning against the side of the bus, I couldn't help but contemplate Tony and how he would cope with my absence. The thought of him being alone tugged at my heart, and a wave of sadness washed over me. But I reassured myself that this journey was necessary, both for my growth and to help alleviate the burdens weighing on our family.Suddenly, a friendly voice broke through my reverie. "Hey, beautiful," the voice called out, drawing my attention. I turned to face a red-headed girl with captivating green eyes. A warm smile played upon her lips as she introduced herself. "I'm Chiara," she said, extending her hand toward me. I reciprocated the gesture, feeling an instant connection with her.Chiara proceeded to introduce me to the other girls on the bus, their names dancing in my ears as she spoke
{Abebi}I sighed heavily, my voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and frustration. I thought about how Tony was going to cope in my absence. He must have known everything, he must have been receiving threatening calls from Mrs. Beatrice, since I left my phone with him, only $4000 I have been able to race since these two weeks. "For the past two weeks, I have been dancing for men old enough to be my father," I confessed, my eyes fixed on the ceiling above. The weight of my experiences seemed to hang in the air.Chiara, busy combing her hair in front of the mirror, turned her attention to my words. "Did anybody touch you while you danced?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern."No, nobody touched me," I replied, my voice filled with a mix of relief and sadness. "But that doesn't make it any less degrading. I've been treated worse than animals. Dancing in skimpy dresses inside a metallic bar—it's dehumanizing."Chiara's reflection in the mirror showed a hint of understanding. She
{Mac Allister}This is my new world, this is my new environment. Ever since my dad passed out, my mum has pressured me to take the mantle of the dirty business. I had to adjust my life to fly in this game of do or die. The mafia families were not at war at the moment, but I sensed a terrible conflict would soon arise. My mother (the unmovable force in the mafia's game) was getting old, and our secret enemies sensed it. They know she will be gone in a few years.I knew they had planned their secret plan to take everything from us. Mama gave me a spacious room as my office as soon as I arrived from America after I completed my degree program in economics, The spacious room was meticulously arranged, the atmosphere chilled by an efficient air conditioning system. The shelves lined with books spoke of knowledge and intellect, while a portrait of an old man adorned the wall, a silent reminder of the legacy that had been passed down."Sir, you summoned me," Angelica spoke with deference as
"Why are you crying?" Chiara's voice broke through the heaviness in the room, her concern palpable as she gently patted my back. I sniffled, using a blue handkerchief to wipe away the tears streaming down my face and the traces of sorrow on my nose."He did it with me, he forced me," I uttered between sobs. My voice cracked with the weight of my confession, my anguish pouring out like a torrential storm. The room fell silent, each word hanging in the air, raw and vulnerable."Hey, lower your pathetic voice," Isabella's harsh interruption sliced through the stillness, her lack of empathy clear in her tone. It felt like a slap across my face, adding further pain to my already wounded soul. I looked at her, a mix of disappointment and disbelief etched on my tear-stained face."We are trying to get some sleep," Bianca yelled, her frustration evident as she forcefully buried her face in a pillow. Her words felt like a dagger to my heart, the sense of isolation intensifying with each passin
I was abruptly jolted awake by the jarring sound of the train rumbling on the tracks. Disoriented,The journey from Enna to Palermo could have been approximately 2 hours, but it took us almost 3 hours. We boarded an ancient slow train. I glanced around the compartment and noticed Angelica seated in a grand chair, exuding an air of authority. Bella, Isabella, Elena, and Chiara were also present, each engaged in their activities.Angelica's gaze met mine, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was an intensity in her eyes as if she held secrets and power that surpassed my understanding. As I took in the scene, I noticed Bruno and several other guards with pistols, diligently patrolling the train. The sight sent a shiver down my spine, a stark reminder of the dangerous world they embroiled us in.The confined space of the train compartment seemed to magnify the tension in the air. The low hum of conversation mixed with the occasional click of Isabella's gum, created a dis
{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