Veil of Deception: The Replacement wife

Paid in blood

Alexander's point of view: when he was with Emily

Before Scarlet

The pain fell heavy, blurring the lights of the street. The heavy rain hit the ground heavy and hard again, the worn-down ground.
The ground was slightly darker as the ground was soaked by the current torrential downpour.

Tony stood off in the distance, as did Harry. To meet up with Moreto. As men, they were once all considered family. The mafia is a dangerous place for money. With money comes thievery.

Toney leans again on the Ferrari. The light ember lit up the dark scene as his hand covered the small ember. The smell of cigarettes is almost completely covered by the smell of rain.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. If he were smart, he wouldn't come here. Nope. He'd get a quick death out of mercy, and since the time I've known him,

The rain was slightly cold as we stood in the rain watching the single car come down the dark alleyway.

This particular night wasn't something I had wanted or expected, but here we are.

The line care rumbles off in the distance, an eerie
reminder of what's about to happen. A debt is paid in blood. The sound was reminiscent of a growl, making the mood even more unsettling.

Instinctively, I reach into my pocket, feeling the steel of my cold pistol in my pocket, just to make sure it is there.
Not that I hadn't checked multiple times before.
I was wondering if this should even happen; I knew it needed to. I just hoped it could've been avoided.

For a moment, there was only the sound of the rain, and the hum of the engine was heard.

However, if you listen closely, my calm demeanor can be easily seen as a façade when you hear my rational breathing.

Then, the door opened.

The sharp shadow of his leg stepped out first. Each of his limbs cut through the downpour.

Moreto. Who are we used to calling my right-hand man? A man I would take a bullet for.
Hey man, that I had taken a bullet for said before me a thief.
He didn't know I knew.

His face remained neutral.
Thank you for a brief moment if this is an awesome sort of mistake and I haven't gotten my facts wrong, but I know I hadn't.

His eyes were sharp and calculated as he tried to gauge my next move. Maybe he did know.
He'd be outmatched and make a foolish mistake if he didn't know.

Harry and Tony were here as well. Looking at me for a signal for our next move.

"You, my friend, are hard to find; if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me," I say with a laugh to see his reaction, my voice remaining neutral.
As though he were still someone I'd consider my friend.

Casual is trying not to bring attention to the growing tension.
He wasn't anymore; you don't steal from me and get anything from it.

My wife knows where lever that stupid bitch Emily is lying and cheating whore.

"I've been busy, not avoiding you, Alexander." He tells me his eyes flickering with lies for a moment; you could see it. He's always been a terrible liar.

I chuckled unamused.
"Must have been busy then, huh." I lock eyes with him.

I bring the fresh cigarette to my lips, lighting it, creating a small amount of heat on my face.

To ease the nerves I was feeling for the events I knew needed to take place,
"You know I don't like waiting, especially with it raining like this? What's going on with you so busy anyway?" I ask him to slide my box of cigarettes into my jacket pocket.

My comment humored Moretto.
"Oh, Alexander, you've always been impatient, haven't you?"

His comment filled me with a little rage for a brief moment. I didn't expect him to say something like that.

Was it baiting my emotions? I wasn't sure.

I glanced around the alleyway yet again to make sure nobody was there.
Maybe I was secretly praying someone would be there.

Moretto's expression remains readable to me.

"Do you know why you are here?" Tony asked quietly. It was strange to the ears. Tony, being calm, collected, and quiet, this was affecting all of us.

Moreno nodded.
My eyes hardened at him, squinting my eyes slightly. He knew?
He knew?
Had that been why he hadn't answered the call?
How did you know the whole time that we knew he was guilty?

The thievery and backstabbing were serious in our world.
So serious, and the fact that the consequences were paid in blood

"It doesn't have to go down like this, Alexander," said Moretto.
He played his voice, cracking slightly as it got softer. He was afraid.
One might say petrified.
Good.

"I can make things right. Alexander, just give me some time." He told me, pleading even more, and his voice began to sound pathetic as I remembered why exactly we were here to begin with.
"Forgive me."

His statement or plea, whatever you could call it,
It wasn't possible, and he knew it. He was desperate; it was reeking off of him. Almost foil to my nose.

"Forgiveness? Don't you think it's a little late for that? You must be joking," Harry replied coldly, his laughter amplifying the darkness of the situation.


Moretto's eyes narrowed, fear flicking in them instantaneously. Stepping back to try and maintain distance to escape to his car.

"You know how it is, Moreto. You don't steal it and get away with it. If you were anyone else, you'd have your hand cut off by now." I tell him

I step forward knowing what needs to be done.
The rain was beginning to make my clothes feel wet.
I slide my hand inside my jacket once again, filling the cold steel with my pistol and grasping it firmly with my fingers.


Moreto's jaw tightened. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or sorrow. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the hard, unyielding gaze of a man who had made his choice long ago.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this," Moreto said, barely above a whisper.

Before Moreto could react, I retracted my hand out of my coat with a firm grasp on the handle of my gun. The flash of metal glinted in the dim light, followed by the deafening crack of a gunshot. The force of the bullet drove Moreto back.

He staggered for a brief moment before he crumpled to the ground. The rain mingled with the blood that spread across my shirt, staining the night with crimson.

Dead. The man I once thought of as a brother was lifeless before my eyes.