The Mafia's Pawn

But it wasn’t my mother. A man’s voice came through the line, calm but with an edge that made my heart sink. “Hello, is this Cleo Benson?”“Yes, who is this?” I asked, my breath catching.“This is Dr. Stevens from St. Mary’s Hospital. Your family has been involved in an accident. You need to come to the hospital immediately.”For a moment, I couldn’t speak, my throat tightening as the world around me seemed to spin. “What do you mean?” I finally managed to say, my voice cracking. “Why would they be involved in an accident, mother clearly said there was traffic?”There was a pause on the other end, one that felt like an eternity. “Please, Miss Benson, you need to come here right away.”I didn’t wait for further explanation. Panic surged through me, and I bolted from the venue, leaving a trail of stunned onlookers in my wake. My heart pounded as I raced through the hallways, out the doors where I hailed a taxi. As the taxi sped towards the hospital, my thoughts were a chaotic whirl of

"A visitor?" I echoed, my voice laced with confusion as I stood drenched in the entryway. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not now that I had just lost my family.Who could it be?My coursemates?Friends or… A sudden thought flashed through my mind, and I glanced down at the ring on my finger. Could it be Miley? I gasped in shock as my heart fluttered at the thought of him. We hadn't spoke since my graduation, I was too weak to talk to anyone or pick calls. To be frank, I hadn't even touched my phone or eaten.Quickening my pace, I hurriedly squeezed the rainwater out of my hair, wiping my face as I made my way into the house. I pushed past the unsettling feeling that something wasn’t right, focusing instead on the possibility of seeing my fiancé.But as I entered the living room, I froze in confusion. The back frame of the man standing by the window was vaguely familiar, but wasn't Mileys’, I couldn’t immediately place where I had seen him before. "She’s here," Aunt Lydia

Russo's point of viewThe moment I uttered the words, “Kill her,” I watched Cleopatra closely, waiting for the inevitable reaction. Fear? Yes, she had every reason to be afraid. But what I was truly interested in was how she would respond when her world was ripped away from her. Would she crumble, beg, or perhaps fight back? I was damn curious.To my satisfaction, she didn’t disappoint. Her initial shock, the disbelief that flickered in her wide, tear-filled eyes, was quickly overtaken by defiance. A defiance that, had it come from anyone else, would have been amusingly naive. But from Cleopatra, it was something far more intriguing.When she laughed in my face, mocking the very idea that she could be forced into such a situation, I felt a sliver of respect for her. It takes a certain kind of person to laugh in the face of danger, to try and reclaim some sense of control when it’s being ripped away from them. That was something I could admire, even if only a little.But then again,

Russo's point of viewI sat in my room, the weight of the day pressing down on me like an invisible shroud. The confrontation with Cleopatra had been intense, and while I had maintained control, her words had dug deeper than I cared to admit. The word “pathetic” echoed in my mind like an unwelcome guest.But as I leaned back in my chair, letting the silence and warmth of the room envelop me, my thoughts were interrupted by the sudden buzz of my phone. The number on the screen made me sigh, it was my grandfather, the Don of our family, the man whose legacy I was meant to carry forward.I knew why he was calling. The pressure had been mounting for months, and I had done everything to keep the inevitable at bay. But there was only so much I could do before the old man’s patience wore thin.With a resigned breath, I answered the call. "Nonno," I greeted him, keeping my voice respectful.“Enzo,” his voice came through the receiver, strong despite his age. There was no warmth in it, only th

Cleo's POV“Cleopatra,” Russo said, his voice cold and measured. “The sooner you accept the reality of your situation, the better it will be for both of us. Remember, you’re here to pay the huge debt of your late father.”His words struck me like a physical blow, leaving me momentarily breathless. The reminder of the man who had always been my protector, my guide felt like a knife twisting in my chest. How could Russo speak of him so callously, reducing his memory to nothing more than a financial transaction? My father was gone, and now Russo was using his death as a weapon against me. For a moment, I could do nothing but stare at Russo, the anger and pain swirling inside me like a storm. The weariness that had settled into my bones since the accident seemed to deepen, dragging me down into a dark pit of despair. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was feeling, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t care.Russo’s eyes flickered as he to