ᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴀꜰᴀᴇʟ: ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ✓

⭒60⭒

Trust is a dangerous game
{Google}
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(A/N) This chapter will mention a lot of violence and blood. Be aware!

Seven hours.

It had been seven hours since I'd been captured. Imprisoned. Whatever the fuck you want to call it. I could sense my downfall the moment I presented myself from the underground. The police had been after us ever since their beady eyes spotted my men leaving Mafia territory. How they knew where this was, was beyond me. It was a top secret location and of course, someone must have ratted this out.

It was a huge shit show. From the helicopters flying above my head and forces on the ground to the lasers pointing directly at my chest. All covered in shields and embezzled in assault rifles and AK-47's.

My lips twisted into a snarl as a scoff sounded it's way into the tense silence. The choppers were eager to witness a bad move on my end, and I would be a dead man.

I'd been cornered.

"Baja tus armas!" Yelled a leader of the CNI, his eyes looking at me from the gun's eyepiece. These fuckers were terrified of me. They assumed I was just a member of the great Spanish Mafia. If they knew who I really was, I can bet my entire stash of premium Gurkha Royal Courtesan Cigars that these men would rather shoot a bullet down their own throat, before even thinking of pointing it towards me.

Even with this much fear, they would be wise to show me respect. There was a reason my Mafia was the most notorious in all of Europe.

I found it humorous, however, after all these years, they finally were able to capture someone from my family. Me. Albeit they didn't know who I was, yet, I had to give it to them, they really worked their asses off for this. Something I found myself lacking doing these past few days. They wouldn't kill me, not when their decade long search finally lead to this moment, so why not have a little fun with them.

Mess with their brains before they welcome me with shielded arms and safety-lock's off.

"Bien" just as those words left my mouth, one of the cowards tasered me. My entire body tensed and fell down onto the muddy floor in pain. But I didn't make a sound. They wouldn't get a sound out of me that easily. I'd been through much worse, and this was just a walk in the park.

Once the momentary paralysis was over, I could feel my jaw relax as a dull ache took precedence in my mouth. Finding relief in my inability to even flex a muscle, one of the CNI members immediately handcuffed me. A scoff released itself from my mouth for the hundredth time at their pathetic nature. I could feel the guys rattled breathing play across my neck and the way his hands shook uselessly when restraining me.

Pussy. Had to drag his balls across the floor just to fucking restrain me at my weakest, the sorry excuse of a man.

I paid no attention when he started reading out the Miranda rights in Spanish, each quiver of his voice not going unnoticed by me. It was because of my fuck-up that all this happened.

But that was fine, there was a first for everything. This day would be my first and last. Being part of the Mafia meant always being prepared to face death, or in this case the police, hence why I carried around a fake Identity card alongside many other forged documents that would deter them from my real identity.

I could see my future now, detained in jail. For four years exactly. For Mafia men, it was much more than that, a lifetime, but since they'd find no such proof of me or my doings, my sentence would be reduced. I'm sure of it.

Now, bringing back my thoughts to Fernando. He must be real happy about this. A crackdown in the Mafia means ten steps behind from his activities being disclosed. From the world to see. Little did he know that after just a few months since I'd been captured, Lorenzo, my man, released all of his secret escapades under an anonymous account to the public.