All Chapters of THE APPLE'S OF HIS EYE: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

{Abebi}Alvar and Mac Allister strolled off to explore the town, leaving Chiara and me behind with the antiques. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. There was something about Chiara's mask that intrigued me, and I couldn't let go of my curiosity."It's been two days, and I had seen you with the mask," I remarked, my voice tinged with concern.Chiara shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "I like it on my face like that."But her response didn't sit right with me. There was an air of sadness in her voice, a hidden pain that she was trying to conceal. I couldn't let it go any longer, so I gently touched her mask and urged, "Is there something you aren't telling me, Chiara?"Chiara's eyes flickered with a mix of fear and hesitation before she sighed as if resigning herself to the truth. Reluctantly, she allowed me to remove the mask, revealing a face that was swollen and reddish, bearing the marks of abuse."Oh my gosh," I gasped, my heart sinking as I took in the sight before me.

{Mac Allister} I felt a strange sensation in my chest as Abebi buttoned up my black suit. Today is a day that would be etched in my memory forever, a day that demanded strength and composure. I looked into Abebi's eyes, their green depths reflecting a mixture of concern and support."I need you to be strong today," Abebi said,her voice filled with quiet resolve. She adjusted my tie with care, her touch a reassuring anchor amid emotional turmoil."I've decided to cremate her," I finally voiced my decision, my voice tinged with sadness. "I want to hold her ashes with me until I leave this world, too."Abebi's expression mirrored the weight of my decision, yet they remained steadfast in their support. We walked outside, the weight of the moment palpable in the air. A black limousine awaited us, a symbol of sombre dignity. Madame Beatrice's body was already inside, accompanied by Isabella, Jane, and our private security team.Inside the sombre confines of the limousine, my phone ran

{ Abebi}The room exuded an air of secrecy, its circular shape enclosing us in an atmosphere filled with anticipation. A large round table dominated the centre, cluttered with stacks of cardboard and papers. A single bulb dangled from above, casting a dim light that added to the clandestine ambience.I sat on a slightly sloping chair, my eyes fixed on Mac Allister as he immersed himself in a call with his spy strippers. He uses it as a source to gather information about their husbands, the formidable Mafia Dons. It had been an excruciating wait of over forty minutes, with Mac barely acknowledging my presence. But finally, he turned his face towards me, breaking his focus on the call."Sorry for my lack of responsiveness," Mac Allister said, finally acknowledging my presence. His voice was tinged with a touch of indifference. I couldn't help but feel a slight pang of annoyance, but I maintained my composure."What's going on?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued.Mac Allister leaned back i

{Mac Allister}I sat on a deckchair in my garden, enjoying the gentle warmth of the sun on my bare legs. My loyal dog, Rogo, approached me, carrying a package in his mouth. I reached down to pat him on the head, appreciating his unwavering loyalty. Taking the package from him, I eagerly tore it open, revealing a newspaper inside.Glancing at the front-page headline, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. "Wow," I muttered to myself, "The legendary son of Don Tommy found dead in Soserggio Club," the headline declared."What a bad ass killer must the twin be."Placing the newspaper on the deck chair beside me, I stood up and walked into the mansion. As I entered the grand halls of my mansion, my phone abruptly shattered the tranquil atmosphere with its insistent ringing. My instincts kicked in, propelling me toward the sound that held potential information crucial to my ambitions. Swiftly, I traced the source and hurried to my room, where I retrieved my phone."Hello, Chiara," I gre

{Mac Allister}"How many times have I told you to stop bringing things to me in the middle of the night, Rogo?" I grumbled as my loyal dog jumped onto my bed, carrying a package wrapped in red and black. I couldn't help but wonder what it contained.I sat up, swinging my legs off the bed, and reached for a small locker next to me. Unlocking it, I retrieved a knife, using it to carefully cut through the wrapping. My curiosity peaked as I unveiled the contents—a card indicating another dark room meeting scheduled for tomorrow at midnight.I pondered the significance of this meeting. The dark room held a certain mystique, drawing in all the mafia dons who sought to exert their influence and establish alliances. It was a place where power dynamics were shaped and deals were struck under the cloak of darkness.With the card in hand, I placed it on the table and decided it was time to prepare for the occasion. I retrieved my late father's distinguished silver-colored suit, which held a pro