Chapter 12: You Shouldn’t Have Chosen A Total Stranger Over Your Own.

Mafia's Nemesis

**‿Lucas' Ship‿**

Afternoon heat pressed through the ships half-closed blinds, casting harsh stripes across the polished floor.

Lucas stood in the middle of his room, still in his white bathrobe from the morning.

His jaw was clenched tightly, while he paced like he was ready to snap someone’s neck.

His Knuckles’ had been gone for close to three days now, and still—there was no call or clues. And worst of all? He couldn’t involve the cops. This had to stay in-house.

His men, knowing that Blade was Lucas' backbone—stood at a safe distance while making calls to their trusted allies.

“Carlos! Put Los Sangrientos on the line.” He ordered sharply. “There should be a damn trace.”

Carlos nodded and fumbled through their contact list for the Los Sangrientos Mafia Group number.

“Mi realeza se inclina ante su poder, Don.{My royalty bows before your might, Don.}”, A voice acknowledged behind him.

“Grinch?” Lucas barked. He spun around— facing submissive Grinch with murder intent.

“Cane Bastardo – {bastard dog}” He menaced closer, pointing a shaking finger.

“You had one fucking job Bastard—Watch Knuckles' back. Always. And what did you do?” Lucas’ voice dropped low and dangerous. “The exact fucking opposite!”

“Con todo respeto, señor… disculpe. {With all due respect, Sir… sorry.}”, Grinch mumbled after a moment of static.

“But he forbade me from going with him. Don!—he swore me off.” Grinch completed, his eyes low.

“Shut the hell up, Il Guasto –{Failure}” Lucas exploded, stepping in close. Real close.

“Did I ask what he said?”. His voice dropped to a growl. Unapologetically, he clicked open the nearest person's holster–Carlos'— taking the gun and pressing it to Grinch's throat.

“Obedience is better than sacrifice—you let him go alone—Así que aguanta las consecuencias {So deal with the consequences}.”

The air roared with unbridled fury as Lucas used the nozzle of the handgun and lifted Grinch’s face to see him.

“Lamentablemente, este es tu primer error desde que te integraste.{Regrettably, this is your first mistake since you became part of this.}—But you tampered with my Knuckles'—Grinch! It's hard for me to let go”.

Grinch's adam apple moved as he heard a slight squeak of the trigger.

He knew Lucas had been on a warpath because of Blade's disappearance—he’d heard his fair share of death threats over the last two days, and it was only visualizing now.

Lucas was hesitant in pulling the trigger, because Grinch has been nothing but loyal in the past—but then Blade Knuckles’ disappearance was overwhelming him.

Through his moment of hesitancy—Grinch’s voice crackled through.

“At your service, Don.”

Everyone held their collective breath as Lucas' fingers curled tightly against the weapon.

Was he really going to kill Blade's Consigliere?

In a split second, Grinch's phone buzzed, stopping Lucas.

With an eye command—Carlos crouched and fumbled it out of Grinch's pocket, flashing the display screen at Lucas.

“Put it on speaker”. He groaned, momentarily putting the gun away.

Carlos adhered to instruction—his thumb brushing over the answer and speaker button simultaneously.

The phone clicked and a velour-draped voice—smooth with a plush undertone crackled on the other end.

“Boss—I gotta update you”.

Grinch didn't utter a word, rather he fixed his gaze at Lucas for permission.

With a sneer Lucas steeled back to his chair—waving at Carlos to allow him.

“Speak!”, Grinch replied.

Lucas lighted a cigarette, staring out the window—uninterested.

“Blade has been sniffed out at Sombra Azul,” the man rasped out.

“A villager reported just now, about a woman housing a shot gang man with scorpion tattoo”.

“Knuckles?” Lucas muttered under his breath, diverting his gaze at the phone in Grinch's hand.

“Moreover, footage of him leaving the alley—barely five minutes after the murder had surfaced—to top it off, the tourist woman identified the Jobbie{man} that abducted her—and also Antonio, as her saviour”.

“What the hell are you saying—What Woman is that?” Lucas timbrous voice echoed as he snatched the phone.

“My loyalty Don”, the man acknowledged Lucas.

“Talk!” Lucas barked.

“HQ are sniffin’ around Blade’s case again—and the Shamus {Detective} has a fine ace with the Tourist and Villager's revelation.”

Lucas’ eyes narrowed. “Tourist—Shamus, Villager, huh?” He laughed once, bitter. “These f**kin’ vultures never stay dead.”

There was silence on the line—suddenly Lucas’ voice rasped out.

“Silence everyone.”

“Pardon!”, the man brittled.

“You heard me—silence the gal{Woman} and the gumshoe{Detective}”. He repeated without missing a beat.

“Loud and clear, Don…”

“Knuckles won't pass the verdict” Grinch rasped out, just before Lucas hung up.

Lucas paused mid-click, turning to Grinch. “Why is that—is she his—?”

“The tourist is under his protection—and the gumshoe{Detective} is Breanna...Breanna Stewart”.

“Is she the same Breanna?”. Lucas asked coldly, and Grinch affirmed with a nod.

“Wait for my orders”, Lucas' monotone reverberated back to the phone before he hung up.

The tension in the room dropped after the call. Everyone waited for Lucas to complete Grinch's execution but he didn't.

“Why didn't you inform me about the Gumshoe {Detective} earlier ?”. Lucas muttered, holding the phone out to Grinch.

“I—I was gonna tell you when I arrived, but you have the gat{gun} on my throat the whole time”.

Lucas made a rough, guttural sound down his throat before settling back in his seat.

“Grinch! If you want to keep breathing, you better come back with news, most importantly—Knuckles.” Lucas laid him off.

“I won't disappoint you this time”, Grinch swore before exiting.

༎ THE POLICE HQ—TOWARDS EVENING༎

Breanna Stewart secured her thigh holster as Sophia dropped the phone, having just relayed the coordinates for immediate backup.

As always, Breanna pulled her signature mask over the lower half of her face. She gave Sophia a curt nod, and together, they marched out.

Meanwhile, across town, Grinch and his crew were suiting up.

They had one goal: reach the village before Breanna’s team.

With tactical precision, Grinch ordered everyone to disguise themselves as police officers. Their van was loaded with heavy artillery in advance.

They weren’t just going in for reconnaissance—Grinch wanted Blade, and he intended to bring him out, in peace or war.

As their vehicle turned onto the main road, Grinch’s phone buzzed.

A frown curled up on his lip as he picked it. “What's the situation?”.

“Ma'am is en route to the village—make your operation snappy”. said the informant inside Headquarters, who had just leaked Breanna’s location.

“Okay,” Grinch growled, ending the call. He turned to the man at the wheel.

“Get off,” he said, gravel in his tone.

Without hesitation, the driver killed the engine, standing aside.

Grinch instinctively stepped out, circled the van, and took the wheel himself.

With a roar, he veered the Highlander van into the bush. The tires screeched, tearing into the soil as they plunged deeper into the thicket.

Branches whipped against the windows. Grinch hunched forward, knuckles tight on the wheel, steering with purpose.

---

‿SOMBRA AZUL‿

Back at the peak of the village hill, Liza crouched low behind a crumbling stone wall, picking herbs.

The sun had dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the fields ahead.

“Maya! Did you see it?” she murmured.

“Coming, Mother,” Maya’s voice crackled back. She emerged from the low, dense bush behind the hill, holding a root.

“It’s quite hard to find these days,” she exhaled energetically.

“Pack up, dear. It's time to go,” Liza motioned to her daughter.

They were still gathering their things when the sharp wail of a police siren tore through the stillness.

Liza stopped what she was doing, turning to the direction of the sound. Her sight picked up a police van speeding through the southeast brush.

“Police?” she panicked. Willows had threatened to call them if she didn’t kick the wounded man out—and he just did.

“They’re heading to our village,” Maya remarked, perching on a rise where she could see more clearly.

Without a second thought, Liza bolted, taking the bush path.

“Where are you going, Mother?” Maya called out in disbelief. But Liza didn’t answer.

In the comfort of Liza's hut, Antonio groaned, gripping his side as fresh pain bloomed from the reopened wound. The door suddenly creaked open.

He turned sharply, expecting Maya—only to see Liza’s panic-stricken face.

“Did something hap—?”

“Come with me,” she cut in, loud and urgent.

~~

Grinch’s van tore through the undergrowth, mud splattering across the headlights.

Inside, his crew clung to the handrails, adrenaline pumping.

“Sombra Azul up ahead!” one of them barked.

Grinch didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on the path, his jaw clenched.

The village emerged ahead in eerie silence—weather-worn buildings scattered like forgotten relics, fences broken and boarded windows .

He slammed the brakes.

Dust billowed around them as the van screeched to a halt. He stepped out slowly, scanning the surroundings.

Doors were slammed shut, curtains drawn hastily. The village, colonized by illiteracy, recoiled in fear.

“Positions,” Grinch ordered.

His men fanned out, rifles ready. One of them gestured toward a water tower.

“High ground—best place for monitoring.”

Grinch nodded. “Set it. And find Blade before they get here.”

With determined expressions they bulldozed through the old huts, one after the other.

Children were pulled from sleep by the clatter of rifles against walls.

From a wooden door, a pair of frightened eyes peered out—an old woman, her hands trembling as she clutched a shawl to her chest. A little boy clung to her legs, fear in his eyes.

Grinch spotted them and motioned. “Clear that side,” he barked at one of his men.

“Please,” the woman pleaded, as the men barged into her hut.

The village head—a thin, wiry man with a mustache—tried to intercept the men.

“You can't just barge in like this! This is our home!”

He was slammed aside with the butt of a rifle, before he could say more. He slid down, coughing.

Grinch's men had the villagers assemble at the square

“Move,” one of them barked, leading the last set of people to the square.

As the villagers turned hostages dropped to their knees, a man had his arms shielding a clay pot—not because it was valuable, but because it was the last thing his late wife had made before the fever took her.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, don’t take anything else.”

But no one heard him. Or maybe they did—and just didn’t care.

Grinch walked through the wailing villagers like a man used to death, his boots leaving prints on ground where children once played.

He didn’t speak to the villagers. He didn’t have to. His presence said enough.

One of the elders, bent and brittle, holding a lantern. His mouth trembled as he raised it toward the approaching Grinch.

“Have mercy,” he said. “We don’t want trouble.”

Grinch looked at him. Then he walked past—pulling out his gun , he fired a shot and immediately the wailing voices muffled.

MEANWHILE DEEP into the wood, brush clawed at Liza’s figure as she pushed through with one arm, the other arm pulling Antonio along.

His shirt was soaked in blood from the reopened wound.

With every few steps on the uneven trail, he staggered, one hand pressed to his side, the other catching branches to keep from falling.

He stumbled again with a heavy grunt, making Liza turn.

“Are you okay?”

Antonio replied with a nod. Though he didn’t complain, his eyes and silence worried Liza more than words ever could.

“Just a little more, Son,” she encouraged, voice cracking. “I will get you across the ridge.”

“Yeah” Blade closed his eyes, breathing shallowly.

They only walked a few more steps and Antonio stumbled again. This time, he fell to his knees.

“No,” she murmured, her finger brushing over his face. “Come on.”

“Mother Liza—” Antonio gasped, a name he started calling her after staying with her for three days. “Leave me here.”

She dropped beside him, before the words even settled.

“Don’t say that.” She cautioned, her fingers hovering over the wound soaking his side, trying to press against it, stop something, do anything.

Her eyes searched the darkness until they settled on a leaf. She plucked it, crushing and squeezing out the liquid. Then, she pressed it against the open wound.

Antonio felt a burning sensation, the kind that spoke of pain too deep to curse, but Liza had her palm on his face the whole, which was non less than a remedy.

She adjusted her grip and pulled him back to his feet.

They continued moving. In the distance, the sound of gunshot crackled out, followed by the faint echo of shouting and barked orders.

“Maya?” Liza gasped, turning her gaze back. Her eyes were glassy, her face streaked with guilt, fear and love.

Antonio looked at her then—really looked. The way she trembled, without knowing what to do.

“You shouldn’t have chosen a total stranger over your own,” he whispered. "Go back now— Maya must be alone."

Her palm slapped across his face—not hard, but enough to make his head jolt forward.

“Don’t you dare say that." She snapped, leading him away. "Who said you're a stranger....?”.

He blinked slowly, trying to focus. “But why are you doing this, Mother Liza—when it's obvious that my presence cursed you?”