My Sweet Revenge Against The Mafia Boss

“Carrie, no! stay back!”

The ceiling moved. A second later, it came crashing down on top of them.

Dad and Carl were both dead.

“No!” I screamed, tears running down my cheeks. I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen in fear.

“Carrie!”

I turned around.

It was mum.

She was here, blood on her face.

“Mommy!” I tried to run to her, but stopped as I saw him.

A man stood behind her, holding her hair tight in one hand and a gun in the other. His eyes were cold as ice.

“Run!” Mum screamed.

BANG!

Her body dropped right in front of me. She lay there in a pool of her own blood.

So much blood.

“M-Mommy?” I whispered, crawling to her side.

She looked at me one last time. “Be strong Carrie,” she said, voice shaking. “I... Love...”

Then her eyes closed.

“No…” I sobbed, hugging her.

Another man ran up to the scene “Reaper! We gotta go now!”

So that was his name? The Reaper.

The Reaper got in his car and they both drove off, leaving me traumatized.

Just then, a tall man in a black coat appeared.

“It’s okay,” he said gently, holding out his hand. “I’ve got you now.”

“W-who are you?” I sniffled.

“My name is Mr. Grayson. From now on I’m going to take care of you.”

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

20 years later...

“Caroline… I see you every day push yourself beyond your limit,” Mr Grayson said as he watched me train. His thick Russian accent echoed all over the room.

I wiped the sweat from my brow. "Limits are in the mind, sir. They're only real if you believe in them."

He slowly walked closer, hands clasped behind his back, “You know Caroline…” he started, “My people often say; Месть — это огонь, который сжигает душу, поглощая всё тепло, пока не останется любви. Do you know what it means?”

“No sir”. Of course not, do I look like I speak Russian?

“It simply means, Revenge is a fire that burns the soul, consuming all warmth until no love remains.” He was trying to dissuade me, but I wasn’t buying it. His words were just noise— Love? Warmth? Those things didn’t matter to me. Not anymore.

I didn't care about what Mr Grayson or anyone else said to me; what I wanted was vengeance, and I wasn't going to stop until I had The head of The Reaper in my hands.

I swear this on my family's grave!

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

It was just another busy day in the ER. The steady beep of heart monitors and the sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air. The sound of ambulance sirens grew louder, and I could see through the windows as they rushed someone in.

Then I saw her—Camilla Estella, the famed model, Barely alive. She had bruises all over, bruises that didn't look like the kind you'd get from your usual accident.

"Something must’ve happened," I muttered, not realizing I’d spoken loud enough for others to hear.

"Yeah, no kidding," Dr. Jordan, the head surgeon, snapped. "Now get your ass in there!"

Being a nurse wasn't the easiest part-time job.

Three hours. That’s how long it took. And still, we couldn’t save her. She died at 11:59 AM. Jordan handed me the paperwork and gestured for me to break the news to her loved ones. Typical. He loved sending me to the war front, watching me deliver bad news while he hid behind his office door.

I went into the waiting room and met a young man standing by the windows. The breeze from the open window rustled the curtains, revealing his face in the dim light. I knew that face. How could I forget it? It was none other than Victor, the only son of the Reaper, the man I swore to kill.

I quickly adjusted my face mask, concealing more of my already hidden face. My pulse quickened, every instinct telling me to strike, but I couldn’t—not here.

How is she?” His voice was ice-cold and devoid of emotion. He didn’t even look at me as he spoke.

“Your friend is...” I started but was cut off.

“I think you mean fiancée.”

Fiancée? Oh shit! How could I not have known? I'd heard on the news that Victor was marrying a famous model, but I had no idea it was Camila.

Suddenly, a plan began to form in my mind. A dangerous plan. One that could get me closer to The Reaper than I ever thought possible. I was going to use the lion's cub to lure it out for the kill. I was going to use Victor. I would take Camilla’s place.

I would become the fiancée of the Reaper’s son.

“She’s fine,” I lied smoothly. “But the accident did some damage. We had to take her in for plastic surgery. Her face was severely damaged. But don't worry, you can hardly see the stitches”

Victor’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t flinch. “What else?”

What else?

“She has anemia. It might cause some changes in her behavior and we doubt she'll recover from it.” I swallowed hard, wondering if he’d buy my lie.

“Okay. When can I take her home?”

“An hour,” I quickly replied, my mind already racing with the next steps of my plan. “We just need to give her a quick look.”

“Make it quick,” Victor snapped, answering his phone before storming out of the room, his dark presence vanishing behind the doors.

He really was the son of The Reaper.

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

I went back to Jordan's office to report a mission well done. Medical records for each patient were kept in that office, including the death report of Camilla. I had to erase those files, But how?

“Caroline” Jordan called out, “I want you to call Paula to come pick up the patient's corpse”

There was no way I was going to let that happen; if word got out that Camilla was dead, my plan would be ruined. I had to use the only weapon God bestowed upon women that could take out any man… Breasts.

“Sir, could you please check my heartbeat? I don't feel so good,” I stated while unbuttoning the two upper buttons of my shirt.

I slowly grabbed his stethoscope whilst maintaining eye contact; I positioned the stethoscope on his ears and ran my fingers from his ear to his thigh; I could feel the vibration in him, he eyed my breasts with such awe, and I could see his dick bulging through his pants.

I went in for the kill by leaning towards him and whispering in his ear, “Be a good boy and go get us some condoms, mama wanna feel you”

Like a dog going to fetch a stick, Jordan rushed out of the room.

I checked the time and saw I had just 30 minutes before Victor arrived to take his alive fiancee with amnesia home. I went for the drawer and took Camilla's death records and erased her history from the computer. Then I made my way to where Camilla's belongings were and I wore her clothes.

Next, I went to dispose of Camilla's body by dropping it over a small cliff that was steps away from the hospital. I rushed to the entrance, barely making it in time. I could see Victor already stepping down from his luxury car.

“Shit!” I whined, looking at a nearby mirror in disdain as I noticed I had forgotten about my hair. I had short brown curly hair but Camila had long and luxurious black straight hair, typical amongst models. I had to do something and fast.

Just then, two ladies walked past me, having on What looked like wigs matching the type of Camilla's hair. I had no choice, I quickly took the wig off the first lady's head without her noticing. The skills of an assassin tend to come in handy from time to time.

“Camilla?” Victor’s voice cut through the air as he approached me. “Do you remember me?”

I turned slowly, slipping into my new role with ease.

From that moment on, I wasn’t Caroline Slane. I was Camilla Estella. Victor Reaper’s fiancée.

And one wrong move would get me killed