Eddie Munson Oneshots and Imagines.

Bring Her Back (3)

Mafia Eddie Munson x Reader

On a private plane, Eddie Munson looks over the photos sent to him. You are still as beautiful as the day he met you in high school, married you, and the last morning he saw you and his daughter.

An ache creeps into his heart as he picks up a photo of what appears to be all three of you at a picnic. Your smile is the biggest of the three. Wade, sitting in your lap, clapping at something outside the image. Pippen is behind you, her arms wrapped around your neck, laughing and pointing ahead.

The ache is quickly replaced with anger. These were his children! His children that you stole from him. You were a family. HIS FAMILY! How dare you take them from him. How dare you leave him after everything he had given you. He apologized for hitting you—and bought you flowers, jewellery, clothes, and a car. The car you supposedly died in.

Eddie crumples the photo in his hand, his knuckles turning white. He had spent years building his empire, clawing his way up from nothing, and you had taken the one thing that mattered most. He had thought you dead, mourned you in his own way, and now to find out it was all a lie? It was too much to bear.

He forces himself to calm down, unclenching his fist and smoothing out the photo as best he can. This isn't the time to lose control. He needs a clear head if he is going to get his family back. He has already made contact with his man on the ground, and everything is set in motion. It is just a matter of time.

Eddie leans back, looking out the window at the darkened landscape below. He had always known you were special, that you had a fire in you that matched his own. It was part of what had drawn him to you in the first place. But that same fire had driven you to do something he hadn't thought possible: deceive him and escape.

"She thinks she can outsmart me," he mutters to himself, a sinister smile creeping onto his face. "She has no idea who she's dealing with."

The plane begins its descent, and Eddie feels a thrill of anticipation. This town, this new life you had built, is about to come crashing down. He will make sure of it. He had given you everything, and you had repaid him with betrayal. Now, it is his turn to show you the true meaning of regret.

Eddie's resolve hardens as the plane touches down and taxis to a stop. He will draw out your paranoia, make you question every shadow and every sound. He will make you feel the fear that he had felt when he thought he had lost you forever. And when the time is right, he will take back what is his.

Eddie steps off the plane, the cool night air hitting his face. His man waits for him, a silent nod passing between them as they enter the waiting car. The drive to your house is tense, the air thick with unspoken plans and simmering rage.

Eddie's eyes lock on the familiar house as they approach the neighbourhood. He can see the lights on inside, shadows moving behind the curtains. His family is right there, so close he can almost reach out and touch them. But not yet. He has to be patient. He has to make you understand what you have done.

The car comes to a stop a few houses down, hidden from view. Eddie sits back, watching, waiting. Tonight is just the beginning. He will take his time and savour every moment of your descent into madness. And when you are at your breaking point, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

Eddie lights a cigarette, the ember's glow illuminating his face in the darkness. "Enjoy your last moments of peace," he whispers, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Because I'm here now, and I'm not leaving without my family."

Have you ever felt something wasn't right when you entered your home? Everything is still in its correct place, but something in the air gives you the feeling that someone has been in your home while you've been out. You go through the house, checking your and the kids' rooms. It isn't until you reach the living room that you notice a faint, almost imperceptible difference. The curtains, usually drawn back slightly to let in the afternoon sun, are now perfectly aligned, half covering the windows entirely.

A shiver runs down your spine as you cautiously move forward, your eyes darting to every corner of the room. The air feels heavy, charged with an unfamiliar tension. You tell yourself it's just your imagination, but the feeling persists, gnawing at the edges of your sanity.

You walk to the kitchen again, and there it is: a subtle change. The fruit bowl on the counter, which you distinctly remember arranging this morning, now has the apples on top instead of the bananas. You pick one up, examining it as if it might hold some clue, but it's just an apple.

Heart pounding, you head upstairs, your steps careful and quiet. The hallway stretches before you, dimly lit by the evening light filtering through the windows. You open the door to your bedroom, the familiar scent of lavender greeting you, but there's a strange undercurrent, a very faint scent of cigarettes that doesn't belong to you.

The kids' rooms are next. You find them undisturbed, toys and books exactly where they should be. But as you stand in the doorway, watching your youngest's teddy bear with its button eyes staring back at you, a realisation dawns. It's not what's out of place that's bothering you; it's what's been moved back into place meticulously, almost obsessively.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. You tell yourself you're being paranoid, that you've had a long day, and your mind is playing tricks on you. But deep down, you know. Someone has been here. Someone who doesn't want you to know they were here. And that thought, more than anything else, sends a chill down your spine.

Later that evening, after putting the kids to bed, you sit in your bedroom, trying to shake off the unease. The faint scent of cigarettes still lingers, tugging at a memory of Eddie. It hits you like a punch to the gut. Could Eddie have been in your house?

You remembered your conversation with your contact a few days ago, telling them that you believed you were being followed and that Eddie had found you. They reassured you that they had heard nothing on their side, and as far as they knew, Eddie was planning on taking his latest plaything on a trip away. There was nothing to worry about Eddie still believed you and Pippen dead.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the landline phone and dial your closest friend, hours away. The conversation is brief and panicked, your friend promising to get there as soon as possible, but it won't be tonight. As you hang up, the isolation of your situation crashes down on you. There's no one nearby to help. You're on your own.

The evening drags on, every creak and groan of the house amplified by your heightened senses. You try to distract yourself with a book, but the words blur together. The clock ticks loudly, each second a reminder of the impending confrontation.

Your thoughts race as you sit in the dim light of the living room. Eddie must be playing with you, drawing out your paranoia. It's his way of breaking you down before making his move. The idea of facing him alone is terrifying, but the thought of him finding Pippen and Wade is unbearable.

Just past midnight, you hear a noise outside - a car door shutting. Your heart leaps into your throat as you rush to the window. A dark figure stands by the gate, the red ember of a cigarette glowing in the night. It's him. Eddie.

You force yourself to stay calm and think. You can't let him in, and you won't let him take you back into that life. You quickly check the locks on all the doors and windows, making sure everything is secure. Then, you grab the phone again, dialing the police. Your voice shakes as you explain that someone is outside your house and that you need help.

Minutes feel like hours as you wait, watching Eddie's silhouette through the curtain. He makes no move to approach; he just stands there, watching. You can feel his gaze, the same gaze that once held you captive.

Finally, the sound of sirens pierces the night. Eddie's figure disappears into the shadows just as the police car pulls up. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. The officers searched the area but find no sign of him. They take your statement and promise to keep an eye on your house.

As the police leave, the sense of relief is fleeting. You know Eddie won't give up that easily. He'll be back. And next time, you might not be so lucky. But for now, you hold your children close, vowing to protect them no matter what. Eddie may be playing a dangerous game, but you're ready to fight back.