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Chapter 24: Unforgiven
Last Updated:
2025-01-07 18:28:46
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The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 25: The Weight of Forgiveness.
My father didn’t flinch, only pressed his lips tight. A sharp exhale followed, frustration clear—as I couldn’t see the logic in his betrayal.“Why are you acting like you don’t get it?" he snapped. "The pressure, the stakes. The Blades aren't just anyone. They demand loyalty. A child would've sealed that. I agreed because it made sense—it’ll strengthen our bond with them. It’s not as monstrous as you think."His words slammed into me like a physical blow. ‘Not as monstrous as I think?’ He was justifying the expectation that I’d produce an heir like some broodmare. Fury swelled in my chest, threatening to explode.And then it did.Without thinking, I closed the distance between us in two strides. My hand rose, and before I could stop myself, a loud slap echoed through the room. The force of it reverberated through my hand. My father’s head snapped to the side, his cheek reddening as he stumbled slightly, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.But then the room shifted. The walls
Last Updated : 2025-01-07The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 26: Mercy or Destruction: A Deadly Standoff.
“You’ve got guts thinking you can touch her while I’m standing here.” Dontrell’s voice was razor-sharp, slicing through the room with a quiet menace.“Move." The masked man's voice sliced through the tension, cold and unrelenting.I couldn’t see—Dontrell’s frame was a fortress, and I dared not peek around it.“Tell my father if he wants something, he can come here himself. She’s not going anywhere.” Dontrell’s voice was a low growl, thick with authority.The room held its breath.The room held its breath as footsteps echoed, heavy and deliberate. I heard the intruder advancing closer. My pulse thundered.Nadeem, who had been standing by my side, moved forward, ready to intercept. But before he could take another step, Dontrell’s arm shot out like a steel barrier, halting him."This isn’t your fight, Nadeem," Dontrell said, his voice low and commanding. "I’ll handle this." The authority in his tone left no room for argument. Nadeem froze, his muscles taut, then reluctantly stepped bac
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The incessant beep of the heart monitor was the first thing I noticed. It pierced the thick fog in my mind, pulling me from the abyss. I blinked, slowly opening my eyes, only to shut them again at the bright, harsh white light above me. I couldn’t tell if it was real or a trick of my mind, but it was relentless, like the sterile smell of disinfectant that hung in the air—clean, but far from comforting.I tried again. This time, I kept my eyes open, the white paint of the room filling my vision. The softness of the sheets beneath me. A cold, uncomfortable weight in my head—like a fog I couldn’t push away.Then, the first face came into focus—Dontrell. He stood over me, towering like a shadow, his face a mask of worry and concern. My breath hitched, and I tried to speak, but my throat felt like sandpaper."Where... where am I?" My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper."Shh..." His hand was warm as it gently cupped mine, rubbing my fingers softly. "You're in the hospital, Dove."He placed a
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Dontrell sprang up and sat beside me, his weight shifting the mattress slightly on my left. His presence was comforting as I leaned into him. The weight of everything still pressed on my chest, but for now, his presence was soothing.“Hey, it’s okay," he said, his voice steady. "I know things feel off right now, but you don’t have to carry this alone."His words eased the weight on my chest. His hand on mine was a steady comfort, grounding me in the moment. “You’ve got me, always. I’m not going anywhere,” he added, the sincerity in his words leaving no room for doubt. I turned my head to meet his eyes, my chest swelling with emotion. Andrew stepped away from where he had been standing behind us and moved to my right side. He stood close enough to offer support. His hand lightly rested on my shoulder."We’re both here for you," Andrew said, his voice soft but filled with the same genuine care. “You’ve been through a lot, but you're not facing it alone.”I nodded, grateful, but my hea
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I swerved into the compound, the hum of my engine echoing through the quiet night. I parked my car, the lights flickering out, and reached under the seat for my gun. I didn’t have time to waste. I stepped out, eyes scanning the area. The guards nodded, keeping their distance.The building above ground was nothing special—a quiet, unremarkable café with vintage décor. But beneath that, hidden away by a locked door and accessed through a narrow staircase, was a whole other world. I made my way downstairs to the cellar, where the low, pulsing beat of music greeted me. The place was a nightclub for criminals—polished obsidian bar, dim lighting, arched brick walls, leather booths for privacy, and a dance floor full of bodies lost in the rhythm. Security screens flashed with live footage of the café upstairs, keeping everything clean. Private rooms were scattered throughout for the high-stakes meetings and deals that went down.I sighted Fang, seated at a leather booth in the far corner. H
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The night was unnervingly quiet. I paced the bedroom, my mind tangled in unease. Dontrell hadn’t returned till now, and though I knew better than to ask him or worry, the nagging feeling in my chest wouldn’t subside.He kept his world closed off from mine, a barrier I couldn’t cross. But the distance didn’t stop my worry. What was he doing? Who was he meeting? Why did danger always seem to follow him?I wrapped my arms around myself and stepped onto the balcony, the cool breeze doing nothing to ease my racing thoughts. The city’s lights sparkled below, but I knew better—beneath the beauty was a world of danger and secrets, the kind Dontrell lived in every day."I stepped into the bedroom and into the bathroom to ease myself. Moments later, the front door creaked, and footsteps followed. I stayed calm but cautious, peeking through the bathroom door to see who it was.It was him.“Alison?” Dontrell’s voice broke the silence. His footsteps moved toward the balcony, his concern palpable.
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Dontrell’s gaze locked onto mine as he pulled me closer, kissing me deeply, his hands claiming my body with a possessiveness that made my heart race.I couldn’t deny the pull, even if my mind tried to fight it. My body betrayed me, leaning closer, wanting more.“Why are you always so damn beautiful?” He muttered, his rough voice sending a shiver down my spine.His lips burned a trail down my neck, pulling me closer as I moaned against his mouth, lost in the feeling of him.“God, you drive me insane,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot against my skin. “I can’t stop wanting you.”His kiss was slow at first, teasing, but quickly turned desperate. The cool metal of my necklace brushed against his fingertips as he trailed my skin.His hands slid down my ass, pressing me into him. His chest firm against mine, he moved me toward the bed, lips never leaving my skin, every touch burning into me.My hands roamed his chest, the muscles beneath his singlet driving me wild. I wanted to fe
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I heard her scream before I even had a chance to react, the sound piercing through the sexual tension we’d been caught in. The shock of it sent my body into full alert, my muscles tight, adrenaline flooding my veins as I sat up on the bed, my eyes darting to the balcony she pointed frantically toward.“What is it?” I asked, my voice sharp with concern. My desire still burned, but her fear cut through it.""Someone's on the balcony," she shouted, her voice trembling, grabbing the duvet and wrapping it around herself. Her chest heaved, face pale with terror.I shot up from the bed, the rage I’d felt a second ago gone in an instant, replaced by instinct. I rushed to the balcony, sliding the glass door open with force and stepping onto the cool, concrete floor.I scanned the darkness outside, my eyes darting, searching for any sign of movement. “Who’s there?” I called out, my voice cutting through the silence.Nothing. Just the faint rustle of the wind, the quiet of the night. I stretched
Last Updated : 2025-01-11
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The grand hall glowed under golden chandeliers, its walls awash in soft pink and blue. Balloon arches swayed near the high ceilings, their colours blending in baby-friendly charm. Floral arrangements lined silk-draped tables, candlelight flickering against crystal glassware.Grilled meats, aged whisky, and cigars laced the air, mingling with laughter and clinking glasses.Dontrell pulled this off in under eight hours, yet nothing felt rushed—only extravagant. He had done the impossible. Business moguls, high-ranking mafia associates—even his impish father, smug and satisfied—were all here. Soft, slow instrumentals hummed in the background.I wasn’t surprised. Dontrell moved mountains when he wanted something, and tonight, he wanted to celebrate me carrying his child.I sat at the left back corner of the hall, away from the crowd. I had been seated at the front with the Blades, but the weight of too many eyes had pressed in on me, making me nauseous.So I slipped away to this quieter s
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The ground beneath me swayed like I stood on the edge of an abyss. My pulse thundered in my ears, muffling the voices around me.Mr Blade’s stare held me captive—cold, unreadable. Clayton’s gaze was no softer, sharp as a knife. Doris stood frozen, barely breathing.I was trapped.I let go of her hand, but the weight of the moment didn’t lessen.“Go on.” Mr Blade’s calm voice masked steel. “Tell her what you want to tell her. Nobody else has to hear.”I scoffed, my lips curling in defiance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”His face hardened. “Speak.” The command cracked like a whip.A presence shifted beside him. Dontrell. He had been at the burial front, yet somehow, he stood here, appearing as if from thin air.“Is there a problem here?” Dontrell asked his father. His voice was calm, but his stance bristled with power. “I heard your voice from a distance.”Mr Blade’s lips curled in displeasure. “No problem… unless your wife wants one.”Dontrell’s posture stiffened, his eyes
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 140: One. Two. Pull the Trigger.
Rocco’s entire body shook. "What?"His eyes darted between his dying son and Dontrell’s cold, unyielding gaze. The room held its breath. A father’s impossible choice—yet here he was. His son twitched, drowning in his blood. No saving him. No stopping this. Mr Blade didn’t blink. The walls closed in.Dontrell’s voice was merciless. “She’s locked in a container on my dock. If I have to pull the trigger, I’ll have my men drop her in the ocean —ALIVE.”Rocco’s grip wavered as he took the gun. His fingers trembled, nearly dropping it.Mr Blade stepped toward Rocco, gripping his cane. He pulled off the rubber tip at the bottom—revealing a sharp blade. With a brutal thrust, he stabbed Rocco’s foot.Rocco screamed.Mr Blade twisted the blade deeper. "I pull it out; it goes in your back next. Stop wasting my time."Rocco sobbed.Dontrell’s voice cut through, counting. "One. Two—"Rocco murmured to his son, “I’m sorry.”He pulled the trigger. The bullet punched through his son's forehead, blood
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 139: Allison’s POV: an eye for an eye.
I hadn’t left the living room, just shifted—hitting Dontrell, striking Clayton, demanding answers they didn’t have. How did they let this happen? Why didn’t they save him?At some point, a guard tried holding me back. I slapped him too. But none of it mattered. Andrew was still gone.Now, It was nearly four a.m., and I was still here. Neither Dontrell nor Clayton had left. They had told me to go to bed, but how could I close my eyes after what had happened?The phone calls never stopped all night. Different numbers, different voices, different updates. The Blade men were already hunting a name—Rocco Valeri. The bastard who killed Andrew. I sometimes forgot how ruthless and skilled the Blades were—especially with their own enemies.I prayed they found him. But I also knew something. When the Blade family hunts a foe, they don't seek revenge, they seek annihilation.I hadn't even realized I had dozed off until the sound of heavy boots storming into the living room jolted me awake. I s
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 138: Everything Faded to Black.
Tires screeched on the rough pavement as I swerved, forcing the car to its limits. Dust choked the air as I sped toward the warehouse. The engine roared—a battle cry."Hold on!" I barked, gripping the wheel. My heart pounded with the engine's growl.Clayton and Dontrell braced behind me, jaws tight, fingers twitching on their guns. The eight men left in their convoy followed closely behind us. No turning back now.I pushed harder. VRRROOOMMM—swerved past a wrecked truck.The warehouse loomed, rusted doors towering like hell’s gates. I hit the brakes. Tires screamed as the car skidded into position.The moment I cut the engine, the doors flew open."Move! Move! Move!" I bellowed, shoving my door open.Everyone jumped out, weapons drawn. The air was thick with tension, the promise of war looming over us like a storm ready to break."Where the hell are our troops?" I barked at Dontell. “We need the damn backup now!" I stepped out, both guns in hand.He barely looked up from his phone. "
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The moment I stepped out of the airport, the first thing I saw was Dontrell—he leaned against the bulletproof SUV, arms crossed, unreadable. Clayton sat in the front, scanning the surroundings.Immediately I got in, Clayton fired up the engine, jaw tight, steering through the busy street.Five armored cars flanked us—two ahead, three behind, like an iron wall. But inside our bulletproof ride, it was just us.Dontrell sat beside me, loading his gun with practiced ease. I did the same, checked my rounds, cocked my weapon, tightened my vest. The car smelled of gun oil and adrenaline."Trust’s a luxury I can’t afford," Dontrell muttered, reloading. "That’s why Clayton’s driving." He tossed me a gun. "This conversation stays between us."I nodded, my fingers tightening around the cold steel in my hands, fully loaded. No safety. No bullshit. “Talk to me.” Clayton pulled onto the road, leading the convoy as we sped out of the city. The silence was heavy. The kind before war.Dontrell unzip
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 136: Allison pov - Twisted Fate.
Alone in the mansion, I curled up on the velvet couch, flipping through a book I wasn’t even reading. The television murmured in the background, its flickering images failing to distract me. Security was everywhere. They had been in here with me before, but I had asked them to stay outside —their presence was suffocating.In the past twenty-four hours, my life has been a whirlwind. Mr Blade had called, demanding to speak to me, but Dontrell refused to hand me the phone. Then my father called—cold as ever. He boasted about his bank’s new investor, thanks to me and our ties to the Blades. As if that wasn’t enough, he reminded me I was taking too long to have a child, asking, ‘What was my problem?’ I hung up without a word. I wouldn’t let his voice poison my thoughts.Despite the chaos, Dontrell had been genuinely worried about me. He continuously asked if my father’s call or Mr Blade’s demand had upset me. "I’m fine," I lied, and he also didn’t believe me.Paranoid, more than usual. He
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 135: Pulled Back.
I ran into her arms, breath hitching as I crushed myself against her. I buried my head in her lap. Her scent—warm. Familiar. Home.She yanked my hair. Pain flared, but I didn’t pull away. I let her. I deserved it. I buried my head in her lap, a boy again, clinging to comfort long lost.“Andrew.” Her voice wavered. “A son after my own heart.” Her grip loosened. Trembling, she wiped the tears I hadn’t noticed.My name left her lips like a ghost.My throat was thick, my voice hoarse. "Mom—"She slapped me.It didn’t hurt. What hurt was the look in her eyes.“Sixteen years.” Her voice cracked.I clenched my jaw, her words pressing down on me. “I had no choice.”Her breath shook. Her gaze was desperate. Accusing.She laughed, brittle. “That’s where you’re wrong, Andrew.” She turned away, whispering. “You always had a choice.”Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.I exhaled slowly, the words I had never been able to say finally escaping.I tensed. Years. Silence. Distance. Cr
The Mafia’s Angel Ordeal. Chapter 134: Andrew’s POV – 2010.
The house was much smaller, its wooden planks warped by time. Each breeze made the walls groan, and beyond the backyard, only dry grass clung to life. Inside, the air held the scent of aged wood—and faint traces of my father, though he was gone.We had only the large soil he once dreamed would make him a wealthy farmer and gardener.I lay beside my mother, her body trembling as she clutched my six-year-old siblings, Elijah and Elsie, who tried to comfort her in their childish ways.“Don’t cry, Mama,” Elsie said, her little voice serious. “Maybe Papa will come back.”Elijah nodded, puffing out his small chest. “Big Brother, why did God take Daddy? When will he come back?”I exhaled shakily, pressing my forehead against my mother’s shoulder. I wanted to tell them the truth, that Dad wasn’t coming back, but instead, I found myself whispering, “Heaven needed him because the workers in the sky are very busy now. God asked him to help make more clouds so kids like you could be happy. He’ll
