All Chapters of Ruined By Mafia: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

I swallowed hard, forcing down the nausea rising in my throat. The room seemed to spin slightly, reality shifting and reforming around me once more. Just when I thought I had reached the bottom of this nightmare, the floor gave way again, sending me tumbling into new depths of horror.Antonio. The name itself sent a cold shiver down my spine. I had seen him before—silent, calculating, ruthless. He moved through the mansion like a shadow, appearing and disappearing without warning. The few times I had glimpsed him, he had been watching, assessing, his gaze clinical and detached.He wasn't like Marco. He didn't pretend to care, didn't soften his edges with false kindness or gentle touches. There was no warmth in him, no humanity that I could detect. He was a machine, programmed for one purpose only.He wasn't like Dante either. Dante, for all his cruelty and calculation, at least possessed a certain charm, a polished veneer that made his ruthlessness all the more chilling. Antonio had no

The cold concrete floor sent a chill up my spine as I shifted my stance, barely managing to stay upright. My breath came in ragged gasps, my muscles screaming in protest, but Antonio didn’t relent. He never did.“Again,” he commanded, his voice sharp, unwavering.I swallowed hard, adjusting my footing. The bruises littering my body throbbed with every movement, a painful reminder of how many times I had already been knocked down. My arms felt like lead, my legs unsteady, but I wasn’t about to give up. Not in front of him.Antonio circled me like a predator assessing its prey. His dark eyes were calculating, unwavering in their scrutiny. “You’re too slow,” he remarked. “Too predictable.”I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay focused. I had to block. I had to react faster. I had to stop ending up on the ground. He lunged, his fist cutting through the air, aimed straight for my face. Instinctively, I raised my arms in a weak attempt to shield myself, but he was faster. His

My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as the maid escorted me back to my room. Each step felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, my exhaustion creeping through my veins like a slow poison. The training session had been particularly brutal today, leaving every muscle in my body screaming in protest. The marble floor beneath my feet seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, its polished surface reflecting the soft golden light from the crystal chandeliers hanging above.As the maid opened the door to my room, my gaze swept over the large space, my eyes immediately locking onto the elaborate display of dresses laid out on the bed. A selection of gowns—rich in color, fabric, and style—stretched across the fabric, each one seemingly more beautiful than the last. The intricate lacework, the velvet, and satin gleamed under the soft light coming from the crystal chandelier above me. A feeling of unease twisted in my stomach, an unsettling reminder of the event I was expected t

The moment I stepped into the hallway, I saw her. A maid stood just outside, waiting. Her eyes, when they met mine, held none of the pity or concern one might expect. There was only a cool assessment, an evaluation that seemed to penetrate beyond the expensive dress and careful makeup.Her posture was perfectly composed, hands folded neatly in front of her. She didn't look at me like a girl about to enter a world of wolves. There was no sympathy in her gaze, no silent communication of solidarity or concern. Instead, she regarded me with a detached respect that was somehow more unsettling than any pity could have been.She looked at me like I was already one of them. Like the transformation was complete, the metamorphosis from ordinary girl to Dante's creation already accomplished. Her eyes held the recognition of a fellow predator, not the wariness reserved for prey. I didn't know whether to feel flattered or horrified by what she saw in me.Without a word, she turned, beginning to wa

The car rolled to a stop, the hum of the engine fading into silence. The transition from movement to stillness was jarring, marking the end of whatever sanctuary the journey had provided. Through the tinted windows, I could see the blurred outlines of other vehicles, sleek and black like ours, their polished surfaces reflecting the golden glow emanating from the mansion. Each one carried someone who could destroy lives with a single command, who navigated this world of shadows and power with the ease of those born to it.For a long moment, I didn't move. My fingers remained clasped tightly in my lap, the knuckles white with tension despite my attempts to appear composed. I drew in a slow, measured breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of my heart, to quiet the voice in my head screaming that I wasn't ready for this—that I would never be ready for this.Beyond the tinted glass, the world I wasn't ready for awaited me. A realm of predators and prey, of calculated moves and devastat