DEVASTATING TRUTH

BELLA’S POV

I tried my best to hold in the tears that were threatening to drop from my eyes, while I lay on the bed thinking of everything that had been going on in my life.

I was grown and beginning to understand some things. I knew my parents were doing the best they could do for me as their only child, they wanted to give me only the best in everything, I wasn't even allowed to get a job when I insisted that I wanted to help them, they believed they should be the ones providing for me.

I’ll be starting college next month and I found out that my dad told Uncle Noah to help him borrow some money from the bank for my college tuition, my uncle was the only sibling my dad had and my dad trusted him with his life. I overheard their discussion in Dad’s study room, but I pretended that I didn’t know anything about it.

We were a middle-class family living in the city of San Francisco but my parents made me go to an elite school for the rich. And my dad insisted that I study business education in college, which they believed would be best for me because my dad was planning to open his own company and he was going to hand it over to me once I graduate from College. My dream was to be an engineer, but Dad said it was for men. I complained to my mom once but she said dad was trying to do his best for me so I wouldn’t suffer in the future. I know they had my best interest at heart so I never questioned any of their decisions.

My dad worked in a small hospital as a manager and my mom was a baker, she owned a bakery just across the street from where we lived.

I was closer to my mom than my dad because she was always cheerful and carefree, and always ready to listen to whatever I had to say.

Even when she was very busy, she was still able to make time for me. Dad on the other hand was a bit distant, he was a man of few words and only talked when necessary, like during a meal or when he needed to ask me a question. He always provided for me, that was his way of showing he cared.

I was in my room, sprawled out on my bed, I couldn't seem to focus on anything. Just then, I heard a soft knock on my door. "Bella?" my mother called. "Dinner's ready. Come on down." I took a deep breath, trying to push away my worries. I got up and went to the door. As I opened it, I gave my mother a weak smile. "I'll be down in a minute," I said. She nodded and walked away, but I could tell she was worried about me.

As I took my seat at the dinner table, I could feel my heart racing. My father sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. My mother looked at me, but I just shrugged, trying to pretend that everything was fine. My father cleared his throat and said, "So, Bella, how was your day?" I tried to sound casual as I replied, "It was okay, nothing too exciting." I knew I was being evasive, but I didn't want to give anything away.

As we sat down to eat, my mother began to talk about her day at the bakery. She was always excited to share her stories about the customers and the cakes she made. I could barely focus on what she was saying, but I could tell she was happy.

I kept an eye on my father as we ate. He barely spoke, only grunting in response to my mother's stories as usual. His face was unreadable, and I couldn't tell if he was angry or sad.

My mother had been talking animatedly about her day, but suddenly, she stopped mid-sentence. A deep, hacking cough erupted from her throat, and she reached for her water glass, her face turning red. I jumped up from my chair, my heart racing. "Mom, are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling. She managed to take a few sips of water, but the coughing continued. "I'm okay, I just swallowed wrong," she said, but her voice sounded strained.

My mother coughed again, and I saw a small splatter of red on her hand. My blood ran cold, and I felt panic rising in my chest. "Mom, you're bleeding!" I cried. "We need to call a doctor!" She waved me off, still coughing. "I'm sure it's nothing," she said, her voice weak. But I could tell she was in pain, and I was terrified.

Dad helped mother to her feet, supporting her as she leaned against him. He looked at her, his eyes full of regret and fear. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I should have gotten you help sooner." What was he talking about? But Mom waved him off, her breathing labored. "It's not your fault," she said, her voice barely audible.

“Hannah dear, it's okay, you’re going to be fine we’re taking you to the hospital okay,” he said to Mom with regret and pain visible in his eyes as he picked her up and carried her in a bridal style to the car.

Mom managed to touch my face with difficulty “I love you, my angel, just know that anything we do for you is for the best, Listen to your dad and be a good girl” She said forcing a smile. “Mom, don’t say that, We’re almost at the hospital, the doctors are going to take care of you, you’ll be fine,” I said hugging her.

My father was driving as fast as he could without breaking the speed limit. We pulled up to the emergency room entrance, and he threw the car into the parking lot. He raced around to the passenger side, opening the door for my mother. "Come on," he said, his voice tense. "We need to get you inside." He helped her out of the car, supporting her as she took a few wobbly steps toward the entrance.

We sat in the waiting room, the minutes stretching on like hours. My mother was struggling to breathe, and my father kept asking the nurses when the doctor would be there. They kept assuring him that they were doing everything they could, but it didn't feel like enough. I felt like I was in a nightmare, and I just wanted to wake up. Finally, a doctor in scrubs appeared, his face grim. "Is she your mother?" he asked, his voice businesslike.

The doctor's words hit me like a punch to the gut. "I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes filled with compassion. "We did everything we could, but the cancer had already progressed too far." My father's face crumpled, and he let out a sob. I felt like the world was ending like I was never going to be happy again. The doctor gently placed a hand on my father's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for your loss," he said.

I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I couldn't believe that my mother had been sick, and I had no idea. How could they have kept something like this from me? I felt betrayed and confused like the ground had been pulled out from under me. I looked at my father, who was staring at the floor, his eyes red and puffy. I wasn't sure what to say or do. I felt numb like I was in a dream.

“Dad, what does he mean? Mom was okay this whole time, wasn’t she? She was always smiling and happy, she can’t just leave me like that” He didn’t give me a response

I took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on my emotions. I looked at my father again, and I felt my anger boiling over. "Why did you lie to me?" I asked, my voice shaking. "You should have told me. I deserved to know." My father looked up at me, his eyes filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I just didn't want to worry you. I thought I was protecting you." I felt a wave of resentment wash over me. "How could you think that?" I asked, my voice rising.

My father's voice was soft, his words carefully chosen. "Your mother was very private about her illness," he said. "She didn't want you to worry about her. She thought you had enough on your plate already." I felt conflicted. I understood what he was saying, but I still felt betrayed. "I still should have known," I said, my voice breaking. "I'm your daughter. I deserved to know." He reached out and took my hand, his eyes full of sorrow. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

As my father spoke, I felt my resolve break. Tears started to flow down my cheeks, and I felt a sob rising in my chest. I leaned into my father, and he wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his shoulder, and I let myself cry. I felt like I had been holding everything in for so long, and it was finally breaking through. I cried until I had no more tears left, and my father held me the entire time.

MORENO’S POV

I was not shocked by the betrayal, even though it was my cousin who had betrayed me. This was the reality of the mafia life - trust was not a given, and everyone was out for themselves. I had known this from the beginning, and I had learned to expect the unexpected. Still, it was hard not to feel a sense of bitterness, even as I masked it with a cool, calculating demeanor. My cousin had crossed a line, and there would be consequences.

I walked up to him like a Predator sizing his prey, I was thinking of the best suitable punishment to give him, “You dare betray me, Diaz? To my rival of all people,” I said laughing. “What did he offer to give you? Money, power, or more merchandise? Did he promise to make you greater than me? I can’t believe you were such a fool, You know I don’t forgive betrayers, family or not.

Fuck off he said and I punched him several times in his face. The bastard still had the guts to cuss at me.

I took the first weapon I could get my hands on and I stabbed his leg with a knife. I picked up a bottle of alcohol from the table and poured every single drop of it on the place I stabbed him. He grimaced in pain and it got me excited but I didn’t want to kill him so easily, I wanted to break him before I killed him off. “Mateo, tie him upside down in the dark room, beat him up but, don’t let him die just yet. I’ll get back to him in a few days” I told Mateo, my right-hand man.

I walked out of the warehouse where I tortured my traitors. As I strode to my car, I barked orders to my driver, Antonio. "Take me to the office," I said, my tone curt and authoritative. "I have work to do." I climbed into the backseat, and my mind was already racing. I would have to reassess my plans, and I would have to consider my next move. But first, I needed to compose myself. I would not let my emotions rule me, not even in the face of such a great betrayal.

As the car glided through the city streets, I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me. I was running on empty, having spent countless hours working on business deals and other matters. And even when I was not working, my mind was still racing, unable to find rest. My insomnia had been getting worse lately, and it was taking its toll on me. But I would not let it show. I would push through, no matter what.

I’ll have to one of my clubs to get a whore to relieve my stress as usual.

My life might have looked glamorous from the outside, but the reality was far different. I was constantly under pressure, and I had to make difficult decisions daily. There was little time for relaxation, and my personal life was nonexistent. But I had built up a reputation as a successful and powerful figure, and I could not let that image slip. I would have to continue to play the role, no matter how much it took out of me.

I had a reputation in the underworld, and people knew not to cross me. I was feared and respected, and those who knew me knew that I was not to be taken lightly. But even with all of my power, I felt a sense of loneliness. I had few true friends and even fewer people that I could trust. But I could not let myself be distracted by such thoughts. I had a job to do, and I would do it well.

To the public eye, I was a pillar of the community. I was known for my charitable work, and I was often photographed at galas and events, surrounded by celebrities and other influential people. I had built a successful business empire, with various clubs, restaurants, and a construction company under my name. People admired me, and I was considered a success story. But few knew the truth behind the façade.

I had established strong connections in Spain, and I had several powerful allies. I had worked hard to build these relationships, and they had proven to be valuable in my business dealings. But even with these connections, I always felt like an outsider, a man who did not quite fit in. I had never really felt at home, even though I had achieved great success.

All this power and money couldn’t give me happiness, the only thing that gets me excited is killing and torturing people, most people call me a sadist but I don’t give a shit. I was okay being someone they were scared of.