The Mafia Queen's Obsession

Part 10

And the mysterious figure before her seemed like the key to understanding it all.

Finally, breaking the silence, Ayla spoke, her voice steady despite the nerves twisting in her gut.

"Who is targeting me?" she asked, her words coming out more like an accusation than a question.

 She needed answers, and she needed them now.

The woman didn't turn to face her immediately. Instead, she stood there for a moment, as if weighing her response. 

When she finally spoke, her voice was cool and detached, yet carried a weight that made Ayla's skin prickle with unease.

"I guess you already know," she replied, her tone almost conversational. "It's the task force."

Ayla's stomach churned. The task force. The shadows that had been lurking behind her investigation now had a name, a face. The weight of it hit her like a ton of bricks, but she couldn't let herself falter.

"What am I gonna do?" she asked, her voice a little sharper now. 

The panic rising inside her was hard to swallow, but she kept it in check. She couldn't afford to let fear control her. Not now. Not when she was so close.

The woman tilted her head slightly, as if considering Ayla's question. Then she turned just enough for Ayla to catch a glimpse of her mask, a subtle curve of mockery in the way it seemed to smile at her. It was unnerving.

"You should've known that before you decided to speak with" she said, a dark, almost amused edge creeping into her voice. "Selene Moretti."

Ayla's breath caught in her throat. 

The name hit her like a jolt of electricity. 

She had suspected, even feared it, but hearing it out loud was something else entirely. Selene Moretti. The woman who had haunted her thoughts, the one who had drawn her deeper into the abyss. 

And now it seemed she was the reason for everything—the reason the task force was targeting her, the reason her life was spiraling into chaos.

Her mind raced. 

She had never expected this. Selene—the Moretti heir, the woman who ruled the underworld with a ruthless grip—was connected to the very forces that were now after her. 

And in that moment, Ayla realized that the stakes were even higher than she had ever imagined. This wasn't just about the mafia anymore. This was about power, corruption, and a deadly game that Ayla was now an unwilling player in.

"What does she want from me?" Ayla's voice was barely a whisper, the weight of the question settling heavily in the air between them.

The woman in the mask didn't answer right away. She simply stared out over the city, as if lost in thought. When she finally spoke again, her words were cryptic, laden with warning.

"You should ask her yourself."

The woman in the mask slowly stepped forward, her movements deliberate and confident. For a moment, the world seemed to pause around Ayla as she stood there, watching. She had thought the figure in front of her might remain a mystery, just another piece of the puzzle. But then, with a fluid motion, the woman reached up and removed the mask.

Ayla's breath caught in her throat.

Selene Moretti stood before her, her presence undeniable. The woman she had been chasing, the one who had captured her attention with every whispered rumor and every glimpse in the shadows, was now standing inches away.

Selene's eyes—dark and sharp—locked onto Ayla's. She looked different now, no longer hiding behind a mask. She was even more imposing, more striking. Her face, beautifully sculpted with sharp angles and fierce intensity, held an expression that was both apologetic and strangely amused.

Ayla's pulse quickened, the realization hitting her like a wave. 

This wasn't just some random encounter; this was the epicenter of everything.

Selene took a step closer, her heels clicking on the stone as she closed the distance between them. Her voice was low, smooth, and dripping with an almost playful tension as she spoke.

"Little fox, you should've never spoken to me, darling. Neither should I."

She paused, a glint of something dark dancing in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I never thought it'd land you in trouble."

Ayla swallowed hard, her throat dry as she tried to process Selene's words. 

The apology felt almost hollow, but there was something in the way Selene spoke it—like she was acknowledging something deeper, a shared understanding of the dangerous game they were both tangled in.

Ayla managed to steady herself, but her voice was laced with both anger and disbelief. "You knew, didn't you? This whole thing—this—it's your doing."

Selene's lips curled into a slight smile, a dangerous and knowing one, as if she had anticipated Ayla's response.

"Knew? Oh, darling, I had a feeling, but I never wanted you to get this tangled up in my world." Her eyes flicked over Ayla, a predatory gleam in them. "I didn't expect you to be so... determined. So reckless."

Ayla's jaw clenched. The words stung, but she wasn't about to back down now.

"So, what now? What do you want from me?"

Selene's expression shifted slightly, a hint of amusement crossing her face. She walked a few paces, her heels clicking against the stone as she circled Ayla, her gaze never leaving her.

"You think I want something from you? I'm not some villain in a cheap thriller, little fox. You've already given me what I wanted: your curiosity." She tilted her head, as though weighing her next words carefully. 

"But now? Now, you've got the task force on your tail, and that makes you an interesting piece in this little game."

Ayla's heart raced, the gravity of the situation pressing down on her. Selene was right. She was now more than just a journalist in over her head. She was a pawn—caught in a web between the Moretti family and the deadly, hidden forces that worked to keep their empire intact.

"What do I do now, then?" Ayla asked, her voice growing more urgent. "What am I supposed to do with this mess you've dragged me into?"

Selene stopped walking and turned to face her, her eyes flickering with some-thing almost sympathetic, though it was buried deep beneath the layers of control and calculation.

"You can walk away, if you're quick enough. Or you can stay and let the pieces fall where they may." She stepped closer again, so close Ayla could feel the heat from her body. "But know this, darling—you're no longer just a spectator. This game has already started. And there's no turning back."

Ayla was silent for a moment, the weight of Selene's words settling on her shoulders. She could feel her chest tightening, the uncertainty gnawing at her. There were no easy answers. No safe escape.

"Why are you telling me this?" Ayla finally asked, her voice quieter, almost pleading for clarity.

Selene's lips twitched into another half-smile, her eyes glinting with dark amusement.

"Because, little fox," she purred, stepping back with a deliberate grace, "I'm not your enemy. Not yet, anyway. But if you keep pushing... I might just have to make you one."

The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to cut through the cold night air.