Mafia Madness (Rewritten version)

Mafia Madness (Rewritten version)

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    Chapitres 9
WpMetadataReadContenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture38m
WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication lun., juil. 26, 2021
This is a rewritten version, it is different from the original. Aria: My rich, self obsessed great aunt sold me to a mafia leader. Me, a twenty-two year old woman who's a cop. Not to mention the case I'm working on is to bring down said mafia leader. This world ain't all sunshine and rainbows, anything can happen. I'm an undercover cop and I'm in deep, too deep and now it's biting me in the ass. He's apparently 'claimed' me, says I'm 'his' but if he wants me, he's gonna have to drag me whilst I'm kicking and screaming because I sure as hell won't come easy. Cops who are found working undercover in the mafia normally end up sleeping with the fishes, instead I'm in a much worse situation; I'm in a fucking nightmare and I'm not waking up anytime soon. Slade: The most important thing you have to remember in the mafia is don't trust anyone, be persistent and never have a weakness. Be strong, vile and numb. I go by three rules and three rules only. One: You betray me, you die. Two: You disrespect me, you die. Three: You mess with my gang, you die. Anybody who breaks these rules will be six feet under. Then I laid eyes on her. She broke all the rules, she should be dead, gutted like a fish, just like all the other mooks who've tried to take my gang down, yet she's still here. I was captivated. I craved her. I became addicted. Now I own her, and shit went to hell from there.
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Pyro

Let me tell you my story, the one about how I died. Don't worry, though. I came back. They say when someone shares their story, they're sharing their burden. Seeking someone to help carry the weight that bends their shoulders, hoping their troubles will float away like helium balloons into the endless sky. Your silence becomes their sanctuary, a vacuum they fill with dust-covered memories. If you speak, do it gently - a nod, a smile, the ghost of a touch on their shoulder. But my story? It's different. It carved its path because trust becomes a luxury I could no longer afford. How could it not, when the one person who swore to never betray me did exactly that? The one who promised never to hurt me, broke me. The one who vowed to stay, walked away. So tell me, why trust anyone else when the person I trusted the most killed me in every way but physical? Until they managed that too. They say the most dangerous predators are the ones who look like prey. I learned this truth through split knuckles and shattered promises, through blood on my tongue and threats whispered against skin. Through playing weak while gathering my strength in darkness. Now I watch him, this self-proclaimed hunter in his own game. He doesn't see he's just another piece being moved across someone else's board. The mafia's golden prince, they whisper. If only they knew what lurks beneath that polished veneer. What dances behind those eyes that mirror the shadows I know so well. But shadows? They're born from fire. And somewhere out there, someone's striking matches, leaving black roses on cooling ashes, drawing closer with every corpse that falls. They call him Pyro. And when that name drops in a room. Well, let's just say I'm not the only one with secrets worth killing for. Some demons wear designer suits. Some victims wear crowns. And some fires are worth burning for. Welcome to the game. Trust no one. Not even me.

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