"You're saying Asher was the only one who remained alive for a time after the attack?" I ask, my voice tinged with disbelief.
Dr. Mallard nods solemnly. "Yes, precisely," he confirms, his expression grave.
"Benjamin and Dante suffered fatal gunshot wounds to the head and heart. Edoardo was killed with a knife through the eye," he explains, his gaze steady. "Their deaths were relatively clean. However, Asher's situation was different."
He pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "He sustained a severe knife wound to his abdomen. It caused significant blood loss, and although he fought to stay alive, he ultimately succumbed to his injuries."
The gravity of the situation is palpable as he describes the injuries sustained by all four men. Their broken ribs and bruises indicate a fierce struggle against their attackers, amplifying the sense of tragedy that hangs over the room.
Antonio, ever vigilant, seizes upon a crucial detail, his question laced with a sense of urgency. "What caliber was used to shoot?"
Dr. Mallard's brows furrow in confusion as he scrutinizes the document in his hands.
"The bullets used to shoot Benjamin and Dante.. they were from their own guns," he murmurs, his voice tinged with disbelief.
The revelation lands like a bombshell, the weight of it settling heavily in the room. Antonio's expression darkens, a simmering anger bubbling beneath the surface.
"You're saying their own guns were used to shoot them?" I interject, my voice laced with disbelief and frustration. "Why the fuck am I just hearing about that now?! It's been days since their bodies came here for an autopsy!"
Dr. Mallard visibly shrinks under the force of my fury, his discomfort palpable. He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here, caught in the crossfire of my anger.
"I- I- I'm sorry, Don," he stammers, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I, uh, after you returned, you were busy with the girl, and I only checked the most important results about how they were killed. I didn't think to check what kind of weapons killed them."
He fumbles nervously with the papers in his hands, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape.
"It slipped my mind to look at the results. I'm very sorry, Don," he adds hastily, his voice trembling with remorse.
Frantically flipping to another page, his eyes widen in shock, a new revelation awaiting our attention.
"What's going on?" I demand, my voice strained with urgency.
"T- the knife," he stammers, his horror evident in his wide-eyed expression.
"I can't fucking mind read. Spit it out already!" I snap, my frustration boiling over.
"The knife that killed Edoardo was Asher's." His words hang heavy in the air.
No. It can't be true. There must be some mistake. He was one of my most trusted men, a loyal soldier in my ranks. The four of them were a tight-knit team.
What did I miss? What the fuck is going on in my mafia?
"Doc, what are you saying?" Antonio's voice cuts through the tension, his tone cold and demanding, mirroring my own disbelief and confusion.
"At first I thought it must have been a coincidence. That the assailants somehow gained access to their weapons and used them against them," he begins, his voice trembling slightly. "But the way each of them was injured indicates that they fought each other, killed each other."
The realization hits like a sucker punch, leaving us reeling. How could this have happened? Who could have orchestrated such a calculated betrayal?
The only thought in my head is the girl whose traces I've been tracking. She knows something, more than she lets on. But I don't think she'll ever help me willingly.
"To be more exact, Benjamin, Dante, and Edoardo were killed by Asher. Asher's blood was found on Benjamin's knife, so I assume he was the one who inflicted the deadly injury on him," the doctor explains further, his words heavy with the weight of the truth.
"But there is something off. There had to be a fifth person. Someone who tried to save Asher. There were compressing dressings on his abdomen. Something he wouldn't have been able to do himself. They looked rather professional to that," he adds, his expression troubled as he shares the unsettling details.
"Something doesn't add up, though. How would Asher be able to shoot Benjamin clean in the head, when he's suffered such a severe knife wound before?" Antonio questions, his tone filled with doubt.
"Probably the adrenaline," I interject, trying to make sense of the chaos, while Dr. Mallard nods tentatively in agreement.
"But why turn on each other? Why betray everything they once stood for?" I continue, my voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and confusion, as the weight of betrayal settles heavily upon me.
Antonio's eyes narrow thoughtfully as he ponders the question. "Perhaps they were manipulated. Blackmailed. Or maybe there's a larger game at play here," he suggests, his tone heavy with suspicion.
"Thank you for sharing all this information, Doc," I say, my voice steady but laced with a subtle warning.
"But let me make one thing clear: next time, you check those results right away. We can't afford any slip-ups, understand?"
He nods nervously, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.
"Y-yes, of course, Don. I'll make sure to inform you immediately of any developments," he stammers, his words faltering under the weight of my gaze.
A dangerous smile plays at the corners of my lips as I lean in closer, my eyes locking onto his with unwavering intensity.
"Good," I say, my tone low and menacing. "Because I won't be so forgiving next time."
Rising from our seats, Antonio and I share a subtle nod, a silent agreement passing between us as we prepare to leave the doctor's office. The room, though modest in its furnishings, holds an air of gravity, the weight of our conversation still lingering in the space.
With a final glance around the sterile walls, adorned with medical charts and cabinets, we make our way to the door.
Stepping into the hallway of the hospital wing, the hushed atmosphere envelops us, the soft hum of fluorescent lights providing a somber backdrop to our departure.
The corridor stretches out before us, its length punctuated by closed doors and the occasional passing figure, each offering a respectful nod as we pass.
Breaking the silence, Antonio speaks up, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "Something dangerous is happening in our own ranks."
He watches me closely, his gaze thoughtful, before continuing, "Do you think she knows the answers?"
"Honestly, I don't know."
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Hello friends,
This is going to be my first story, and I'm open to critique and feedback! I really hope you can help me make this story better.
All the language translations have been done with Google Translate. Please feel free to provide the correct translations in the comments!
Thank you!
Your votes are greatly appreciated and will let me know if you enjoyed my story!
TW: This story contains:
abuse,
blood,
death,
rape,
sex,
sexual assault,
violence,
If you still want to read it but prefer to skip chapters with certain topics, feel free to DM me, and I'll let you know which ones are safe to read.
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YOU ARE READING
Bloodlines and Bullets
ActionWhat happens when you're in the wrong place at the wrong time? She is just at the beginning of her year-long world travels when she falls into the hands of him - an Italian mafia Don driven by the thirst for answers and revenge. When there is someth...
