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CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride
CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride
Author: Hewrite

Chapter 1

Author: Hewrite
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-08 02:21:22

~ANYA POV~

“Yaya!”

The shout cut through the bass-heavy music pounding inside CÉRRO Nightclub. I didn’t need to look up from the drink I was mixing to know it was Athena.

Only she called me that.

I glanced anyway. There she was, strutting across the bar like she owned it—blonde hair glowing under the neon lights, lips glossed to perfection, and that mischievous grin plastered across her face. The grin that meant trouble.

“No,” I said flatly, sliding the cocktail across to the waiting customer.

He didn’t take the drink right away. His eyes were too busy glued to my chest. Typical.

“Would you like anything else, sir?” I asked, forcing my voice into customer-service-sweetness.

“Yeah,” he yelled over the music, leaning way too close. “Your number.” I clenched my jaw. Great. Another drunk who thought spitting on me while shouting counted as flirting.

He wasn’t ugly—late twenties, maybe, with dirty-blonde hair and a smirk that screamed “I’ve watched Wolf of Wall Street too many times.” But still. Not my type.

“You know…” he dragged out the words, breath smelling like cheap whiskey, “I could take you outta here. No more slinging drinks. No more shitty customers. Just me. You. Shiny things.”

I almost laughed. His order was the cheapest drink on the menu. Shiny things? The only shiny thing he could probably afford was a discount keychain from the gift shop across the street.

Behind me, Athena was trying not to burst into giggles. My annoyance must’ve been written all over my face.

“Why so quiet, baby girl?” he asked, raising his brows like he’d just dropped the line of the century.

I gave him the fakest smile in my arsenal. “Not interested. Thank you.”

Then I spun on my heel and walked away before he could argue. Rule number one of bartending: never let them think they’re winning.

Athena was waiting, leaning against the counter with a piece of paper in her hand. She fluttered her lashes at me.

“What now?” I asked, wiping down the sticky counter with a rag.

She slapped the paper against my chest. “Another love note. From Mr. Tall, Dark, and Probably Toxic.”

I sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re my best friend, not my girlfriend.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. “Tragic. Rejected again.” Then she tossed her blonde hair and sauntered off like the stage queen she was.

I shook my head, grabbed the next set of orders, and let my hands do the work. Mojito. Sidecar. Californication. Quick, smooth, automatic. Bartending was muscle memory now.

When I pushed the tray back to Athena, she shoved it right back.

“Not me. I need the ladies’ room. Or maybe the men’s.” She winked, then disappeared into the crowd, leaving me stuck with delivery duty.

“Of course you do,” I muttered.

***********************

“Mattie, cover me for two minutes,” I told our co-worker, balancing the tray.

“What’s in it for me, sweet cheeks?” Mattie smirked, adjusting his perfectly tailored vest. He was hot enough to make the straight girls swoon and just gay enough to never let them forget it.

I winked badly. “A back-alley makeout.”

He recoiled, fanning himself dramatically. “As if. Standards, babe.”

“Fine, fine,” I laughed, weaving into the crowd with the tray.

The drinks were for a table shoved into the corner—teenagers, barely legal, all pretending they weren’t. I dropped the tray onto the sticky surface, plastered on my fake smile, and bailed before one of them tried to ask if I knew where to score pills.

“Fuck my life,” I muttered under my breath, heading back to the bar.

Here’s the thing: I really do love my job. Loud music, flashing lights, endless chaos—London nightlife is its own beast, and I thrive in it. Wild. Free. Untouchable.

That’s me.

But sometimes….just sometimes….the loneliness hit. Being thousands of miles away from Mijas, from family, from the warm sun and sea breeze… it stung in the quiet moments.

Not that there were many quiet moments at CÉRRO.

At least I had Athena. She wasn’t just my co-worker. She was my childhood best friend, my roommate, my partner in crime. Tall, legs for days, and curves that made men trip over themselves. Compared to her, I was the shorter, curvier, redheaded best friend with a resting-bitch-face.

But hey…..I had my looks. I knew I was beautiful. I didn’t need anyone else to tell me that.

“Yaya!” Athena’s voice yanked me out of my little daydream again. She snapped her fingers in my face.

“Hello? Earth to main character?”

I blinked. “Sorry. Zoned out.”

She rolled her eyes, then leaned closer like she was about to spill a secret. Before she could, Mattie’s voice cut through: “Closing time countdown, babies. Two more hours!”

Two more hours. I could make it. Then home, bed, peace.

Still…

Abuela’s old words echoed in my head: “Cuando el alma se inquieta, algo viene detrás.” (When the soul feels restless, something is on its way.)

And tonight? My soul was restless.

I just didn’t know why.

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  • CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride    Chapter 43

    ~ANYA POV~When I open my eyes again, everything is quiet. Too quiet.I blink slowly, my vision hazy. I'm in César's room. I recognize the scent of him, the faint smell of his cologne mixed with smoke and something darker. The sheets are soft beneath me, warm, almost comforting. For a second, I forget.But then I see him.A man. Standing with his back to me. He's dressed in a guard's uniform, the same black and black uniform César's men wear.My heart starts to pound fast.What is a guard doing in here? César never allows anyone in his room except me and the maids who clean. I sit up slowly, my legs shaky as I swing them off the bed. "Hey..." I whisper, my voice hoarse. "What are you doing here?"He doesn't answer. He doesn't even move. His shoulders are stiff.I frown. "Hello?"He makes a sound, a whisper, maybe. I held my breath, listening."Monster... monster... killer... killer..." The words come out broken, muttered over and over. My throat goes dry."W-what did you say?" He tur

  • CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride    Chapter 42

    ~ANYA POV~My hand is trembling so badly that the gun keeps shaking in it. I can barely breathe as I stare at the man lying on the ground, bleeding, whimpering. My eyes burn from the tears that won't stop falling. I turn to look at César, silently begging him not to make me do this."Please..." I whisper through my sobs. "Please, don't make me...."But his eyes are cold. There's no softness there, no pity, nothing human, "Traitors," he says slowly, his voice low but sharp, "Deserves to die, mi amor. And you are going to kill him."I stumble back, shaking my head. "No-...no, I can't. I can't!" My voice cracks. "I'm not like you!"I bump into his chest, and his arms close around me like steel. I struggle, pounding my fists weakly on him, but he doesn't move an inch. His breath is hot against my ear when he whispers, "You can. You will."I cry harder, shaking my head again and again. "You're a monster!" I scream, the words tearing from my throat like glass. "¡Eres un monstruo! ¡El infier

  • CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride    Chapter 41

    ~ANYA POV~César's hand is warm and steady around mine as he leads me to the dining room. My own hand is cold, limp, and trembling. I want to pull away, but I don't. I know better than to try.The maids move quickly when they see him enter. Their faces are blank, their eyes lowered. The air feels thick like the house itself is holding its breath.The long table is already set. Silver plates, clean napkins, sparkling glasses. Two seats only. For him and me.No one talks. No one even dares to breathe too loudly.The maids bring in pancakes, sausages, and eggs, the smell of butter and syrup mixing with the faint, metallic scent that still hangs in the air from earlier, from the blood. I stare at the table, but the image of the man César shot won't leave my head. His blood. His eyes. The sound.I feel sick.Tears blur my sight before I can stop them. My body starts to shake, and before I know it, I'm crying. Not loud, not screaming, just quiet, broken sobs.César doesn't speak. He only wa

  • CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride    Chapter 40

    ~ANYA POV~I don't answer the call.My thumb hovers over the green icon for a long time, shaking, my heart screaming for me to pick up. But then my mind flashes back to the blood, to the screams, to the faces of the people César killed the last time I tried to run.The way their eyes went blank. The way he had watched as they were mercilessly slaughtered, calm and unbothered.I can still smell the gunpowder. I can still see the red stains that wouldn't wash off my hands, and I can still feel the bottle digging into my feet.If I talk to my brother now, if he even hears my voice, he'll come for me.And César will kill him.He'll kill all of them. So I press the button and turn the phone off. Just like that.The screen goes black.My chest feels hollow, like something inside me broke all over again. But it's better this way. Emilio is headstrong, stubborn, and brave in all the wrong ways. He won't stop if he knows I'm alive. He'll keep searching, keep digging, until he finds me or until

  • CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride    Chapter 39

    ~ANYA POV~Sleep refuses to come. I lie still on the soft bed, eyes wide open, watching the shadows dance across the ceiling. The silence of the room feels heavy, like it's pressing against my chest. I can still smell César's cologne on the pillow beside me, strong, expensive, suffocating.My heart beats too loudly. I can hear it echoing in my ears, matching the faint ticking of the clock. I can't stop thinking about the phone lying quietly beside me. The phone that César gave me.Why? Why now?He never gives without a reason. He never allows anything without a hidden meaning.Maybe this is a test. Perhaps he wants to see what I'll do with it. Maybe he's watching me right now, waiting for me to mess up so he'll have another reason to punish me.The thought makes my body go cold. I stare at the phone but don't dare touch it. It looks harmless just a small black device in an insanely bright pink pouch sitting on the blanket, but I know better. Nothing César gives is harmless. Nothing ev

  • CALAVERA: The Mafia’s Caged Bride    Chapter 38

    ~CESAR POV~The night is quiet. The city lights fade behind me as I drive through the long stretch of road that leads home.The car hums under my hands like a beast tamed only by me. My right hand rests on her thigh, warm, soft, fragile. My Little Siren is still unconscious, her head turned slightly to the side, her lips parted. She looks peaceful. Too peaceful for someone who just escaped death.I glance at her again.Her eyelashes flutter every now and then. She's dreaming I guessed. Maybe of me. Maybe of freedom. Either way, she's mine, and that's all that matters.The phone beside me rings. The name flashing on the screen is Iñigo. My second in command. I pick up the call."Talk," I say, my voice low, calm, dangerous."We found one of the cars, they were back-ups that were coming to kill you but the others disappeared. They were dressed like soldiers, but they weren't military," Iñigo says, his voice sharp and clipped. "We're checking the plates."My hand tightens around the steer

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