𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 | ✓

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈 - 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤

(edited)

I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief as the world seemed to halt around me. For a few surreal seconds, time froze.

Me, Nefeli Agostino... a part of the Mafia?

"What?!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the walls. Their expressions paled instantly, the kind of white I'd never seen on a human face before. I could almost smell the tension, taste their fear of what I might say next.

Then I smiled.

"This... Is... wow!" I squealed, clapping my hands with childlike excitement.

It felt like a dream come true... until it didn't. For years, I had devoured every Mafia story on any bookstore, wide-eyed and hungry, obsessing over those thrilling tales where long-lost sisters were swept into the dark, glittering world of crime families. I craved it. The mystery, the power, the cold, unreadable stares that could silence a room. I wanted older brothers who could crush a man with a glance. I wanted to be feared, revered, untouchable. But now, standing in the eye of the storm, I realized the truth. This wasn't a fantasy. It was bloodstained. Real. People screamed here. People died. And I was part of it. I didn't really know how to feel...

We had enemies. My family tortured people. Killed people. Not always guilty people either... sometimes innocents. Sometimes people just caught in the wrong place, making the wrong choice, forced into guilt by desperation.

This wasn't what I wanted. I had dreamed of safety. Of prestige. Of being part of something bigger. Not... this.

I admired the Mafia from afar. Their icy stares. The weight of their presence. The hush that followed them into a room. I was drawn to the mystery and the power like a moth to a flame. But I had never wished to become a flame myself.

I may have been scrappy, sure, I'd punched a few boys where the sun doesn't shine, but I had never hurt anyone in cold blood. And I never intended to.

My brothers, though... they looked at me with such warmth and love, I could barely reconcile it with the truth of what they were...

Noah was the first to speak, his smile soft and full of relief. "I'm so glad you're okay with this, sorellina" he said gently. "This... this job, it's been in our family for generations!" (Little sister)

Family. The word echoed through my mind. I had a family now. Α big, messy, dangerous one. I couldn't change that. But I could still decide who I would be within it.

"Yes! I am!" I said quickly, then paused. My voice lowered, suddenly serious. "But I need something in return. I don't want to be involved in... torturing people. Or spying. Or killing. I don't want revenge or blood on my hands. I just want to be your sister. Not a soldier."

My hands fidgeted in front of me as I spoke. I didn't dare meet Noah's eyes. I was surrounded by my brothers, Noah in front of me, the others behind, but for once, I didn't care what they were thinking. I only knew what I felt.

Noah didn't answer right away. He stared at me, the same unreadable smile lingering on his lips. Then he sighed, chuckling softly, and glanced at the others.

Chris raised a brow at him, and Noah gave a subtle nod back. I wished I could speak with my eyes like that... like I used to with Valeria. But she was far away now, and I was here.

Suddenly, Dylan stepped forward and grabbed my arm, pulling me to the couch. His grip was tight, tighter than necessary, but I knew he didn't mean to hurt me. He just didn't know his own strength.